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Connor, Ralph, Pseudonym, 1860-1937

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

Fleming is in?" said Cameron in a voice
that had grown quite steady; "I wish to see him personally."
"Mr. Fleming cannot see you, I tell you!" almost shouted the man, rising
from his desk and revealing himself a short, pudgy figure, with flabby
face and shining bald head. "Can't you understand English?--I can't be
bothered--!"
"What is it, Bates? Someone to see me?"
Cameron turned quickly towards the speaker, who had come from the inner
room.
"I have brought you a letter, Sir, from Mr. Denman," he said quietly;
"it is there," pointing to Bates' desk.
"A letter? Let me have it! Why was not this brought to me at once, Mr.
Bates?"
"It was an open letter, Sir," replied Bates, "and I thought there was
no need of troubling you, Sir. I told the young man we had no vacancy at
present."
"This is a personal letter, Mr. Bates, and should have been brought to
me at once. Why was Mr.--ah--Mr. Cameron not brought in to me?"
Mr. Bates murmured something about not wishing to disturb the manager on
trivial business.
"I am the judge of that, Mr. Bates. In future, when any man asks to see
me, I desire him to be shown in at once."
Mr. Bates began to apologise.
"That is all that is necessary, Mr. Bates," said the manager, in a voice
at once quiet and decisive.
"Come in, Mr.


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