THE MAN FROM GLENGARRY
out here for five minutes.' Nobody moved. 'Step up, ye baste,' says an Irishman, 'or it's mesilf will kick ye out of the camp.' And out the feller comes. It was the same duck that the Boss scared out of the door the first night. 'Sthand up till 'im Billie,' says the Irishman; 'we'll see fair play. Sthand up to the gintleman.' 'Billie,' says the Boss, and his eyes was blazin' like candles; 'yer goin' to leave this camp to-morrow mornin'. You can take your choice; will you get onto your knees now or later?' With that Billie whipped out a knife and rushes at him; but the Boss grabs his wrist and gives it a twist, and the knife fell onto the floor. The Boss holds him like a baby, and picks up the knife and throws it into the fire. 'Now,' says he, 'get onto your knees. Quick!' And the feller drops on his knees, and bellered like a calf.
"'Let 's pray,' says some one, and the crowd howls. 'Give us yer hand, Boss,' says the Irishman. 'Yer the top o' this gang.' The Irishman shoves out his clipper, and the Boss takes it in an easy kind of a way. My you o't to seen that Irishman squirm. 'Howly Mither!' he yells, and dances round, 'what do ye think yer got?' and he goes off lookin' at his fingers, and the Boss stands lookin' at 'em, and says, 'You'r a nice lot of fellers, you don't deserve it; but I 'm goin' to treat you fair. I know you feel Sunday pretty slow, and I 'll try to make it better for you; but I want you to know that I won't have any more row in this camp, and I won't have any man here that can't behave himself. To-morrow morning, you,' pointin' at the foreman, 'and you, Billie,' and you, pointin' at another chap, leave the camp, and they did too, though they begged and prayed to let 'em stay, and by next Sunday we had a lot of papers and books, with pictures in 'em, and a bang-up dinner, and everything went nice. I am likin' it fine. I 'm time-keeper, and look after the store; but I drive the team too every chance I get, and I 'd ruther do that a long way. But many a night I tell you when the Boss and me is alone we talk about you and the Institute fellers, and the Boss—"
"Well, that's all," said Kate, "but isn't it terrible? Aren't they dreadful?"
"Poor fellows," said Mrs. Murray; "it's a very hard life for them."
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