“Indian evidence will be a poor dependence in Cruickshank’s hands,” Mr Murchison told them, with a chuckle. “They say this Chief Joseph Fry is going about complaining that he always got three dollars for one vote before, and this time he expected six for two, and got nothing!”
“Chief Joseph Fry!” exclaimed Alec. “They make me tired with their Chief Josephs and Chief Henrys! White Clam Shell—that was the name he got when he wasn’t christened.”
“That’s the name,” remarked Advena, “that he probably votes under.”
“Well,” said Mrs Murchison, “it was very kind of Squire Ormiston to give Lorne his support, but it seems to me that as far as Moneida is concerned he would have done better alone.”
“No, I guess he wouldn’t, Mother,” said Alec. “Moneida came right round with the Squire, outside the Reserve. If it hadn’t been for the majority there we would have lost the election. The old man worked hard, and Lorne is grateful to him, and so he ought to be.”
“If they carry the case against Lorne,” said Stella, “he’ll be disqualified for seven years.”
“Only if they prove him personally mixed up in it,” said the father. “And that,” he added with a concentration of family sentiment in the emphasis of it, “they’ll not do.”
CHAPTER XXXII
It was late afternoon when the train from the West deposited Hugh Finlay upon the Elgin platform, the close of one of those wide, wet, uncertain February days when the call of spring is on the wind though spring is weeks away. The lights of the town flashed and glimmered down the streets under the bare swaying maple branches. The early evening was full of soft bluster; the air was conscious with an appeal of nature, vague yet poignant. The young man caught at the strange sympathy that seemed to be abroad for his spirit. He walked to his house, courting it, troubled by it. They were expecting him that evening at Dr Drummond’s, and there it was his intention to go. But on his way he would call for a moment to see Advena Murchison. He had something to tell her. It would be news of interest at Dr Drummond’s also; but it was of no consequence, within an hour or so, when they should receive it there, while it was of great consequence that Advena should hear it at the earliest opportunity, and from him. There is no weighing or analysing the burden of such a necessity as this. It simply is important: it makes its own weight; and those whom it concerns must put aside other matters until it has been accomplished. He would tell her: they would accept it for a moment together, a moment during which he would also ascertain whether she was well and strong, with a good chance of happiness—God protect her—in the future that he should not know. Then he would go on to Dr Drummond’s.