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Doyle, Arthur Conan, Sir, 1859-1930

"The Valley of Fear"

He
passed the sign, and then seating himself opposite to the young
man he looked at him steadily for some time, a look which was as
steadily returned.
"I'm not much of a visitor, Brother McMurdo," he said at last.
"I guess I am too busy over the folk that visit me. But I
thought I'd stretch a point and drop down to see you in your own
house."
"I'm proud to see you here, Councillor," McMurdo answered
heartily, bringing his whisky bottle out of the cupboard. "It's
an honour that I had not expected."
"How's the arm?" asked the Boss.
McMurdo made a wry face. "Well, I'm not forgetting it," he said;
"but it's worth it."
"Yes, it's worth it," the other answered, "to those that are
loyal and go through with it and are a help to the lodge. What
were you speaking to Brother Morris about on Miller Hill this
morning?"
The question came so suddenly that it was well that he had his
answer prepared. He burst into a hearty laugh. "Morris didn't
know I could earn a living here at home. He shan't know either;
for he has got too much conscience for the likes of me. But he's
a good-hearted old chap.


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