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Connor, Ralph, Pseudonym, 1860-1937

"Corporal Cameron of the North West Mounted Police; a tale of the Macleod trail"

"
"Oh, I say, Dunn," exclaimed Martin, "it can't really be as bad as all
that?"
Dunn laughed. "I apologise, old chap. That was rather a bad break,
wasn't it? But all the same, to a Scotchman, and especially to a
Highlander, to leave home and friends and all that sort of thing, you
know--"
"No, he doesn't know," cried Linklater. "The barbarian! How could he?"
"No, thank God," replied Martin fervently, "I don't know! To my mind any
man that has a chance to go to Canada on a good job ought to call in his
friends and neighbours to rejoice with him."
"But I say, that reminds me," said Dunn. "Mr. Rae is coming to have a
talk with my governor and me about this very thing to-morrow night. I'd
like awfully if you could drop in, Martin; and you, too, Linklater."
Linklater declined. "My folks have something on, I fear."
Martin hesitated, protesting that there was "altogether too much of this
coddling business" in the matter of Cameron's future. "Besides, my work
is rather crowding me."
"Oh, my pious ancestors! Work!" exclaimed Linklater in disgust. "At this
season of the year! Come, Martin, this pose is unworthy of you."
"If you could, old man," said Dunn earnestly, "we won't keep you long.
It would be a great help to us all."
"All right, I'll come," said Martin.


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