carefully taken down, and amid much enthusiastic confusion
the ranchers and their gang carried Bill off to Old Latour's to "licker
up," while Robbie, in deep wrath but in dour silence, went off through
the dark with his little wife following some paces behind him. His
chief grievance, however, was against the chairman for "allooin' sic a
disorderly pack o' loons tae disturb respectable fowk," for he could
not hide the fact that he had been made to break through his accustomed
defence line of immovable silence. I suggested, conversing with him next
day upon the matter, that Bill was probably only chaffing.

"Ay," said Robbie, in great disgust, "the daft eejut, he wad mak a fule
o' onything or onybuddie."

That was the sorest point with poor Robbie. Bill had not only cast
doubts upon his religious sincerity, which the little man could not
endure, but he had also held him up to the ridicule of the community,
which was painful to his pride. But when he understood, some days later,
that Bill was taking steps to back up his offer and had been heard to
declare that "he'd make them pious ducks take water if he had to put up
a year's pay," Robbie went quietly to work to make good his part of the
bargain. For his Scotch pride would not suffer him to refuse a challenge
from such a quarter.

CHAPTER XV

BILL'S PARTNER

The next day everyone was talking of Bill's bluffing the church people,
and there was much quiet chuckling over the discomfiture of Robbie Muir
and his party.

The Pilot was equally distressed and bewildered, for Bill's conduct, so
very unusual, had only one explanation--the usual one for any folly in
that country.

"I wish he had waited till after the meeting to go to Latour's. He
spoiled the last chance I had. There's no use now," he said, sadly.

"But he may do something," I suggested.

"Oh, fiddle!" said The Pilot, contemptuously. "He was only giving Muir
'a song and dance,' as he would say. The whole thing is off."

But when I told Gwen the story of the night's proceedings, she went into
raptures over Bill's grave speech and his success in drawing the canny
Scotchman.

"Oh, lovely! dear old Bill and his 'cherished opinion.' Isn't he just
lovely? Now he'll do something."

"Who, Bill?"

"No, that stupid Scottie." This was her name for the immovable Robbie.

"Not he, I'm afraid. Of course Bill was just bluffing him. But it was
good sport."

"Oh, lovely! I knew he'd do something."

"Who?