"To the best of my knowledge he has never sacrificed a meal of victuals or a night's rest. But these are the men who talk most glibly of self-sacrifice. As for hardships, I think the greatest he has ever known has been to ride down to the office in a Toronto street car."
"That's bad enough," laughed Sinclair, whose good-humour was returning as the absurdity of this office-hand's high and mighty attitude towards the veteran missionary grew upon him. "But tell me, Dr. MacKay," he continued, "what would they do with me if I did go home and appear before the Committee?"
"They would ask you a number of harmless questions about your disposition and temper, and your submissiveness to authority, your religious experience, devotional practices, and habits of study—the whole lasting perhaps fifteen minutes."
"And do they imagine that they would learn more of me by that than you could testify of me after having seen me among the natives for the last nine months?"
"Evidently! Especially as my judgment is not to be trusted since some recent events."
"And for that fifteen-minute interview they would expect me to travel ten thousand miles?"
"Yes."
"Then I'm not going. I shall not submit myself to the inquisition of Thaddaeus Cornelius McGuffin."
"I am very glad."
Sinclair looked at MacKay with surprise and question in his eyes.