hostility.

A group of women stood in front of the door waiting for it to be
opened. They were looking longingly at the window display of lace
blouses, which were going to be sold, according to a staring sign,
at half the regular price. They were the typical bargain-hunters,
sharp-eyed and distrustful, and not particularly amiable. Early
rising on a cold winter morning is at the best no aid to amiability,
even if by the effort a ten-dollar blouse is bought for five.

The waiting group were discussing sales in general, and one woman was
disposed to think that all sales were snares and delusions--she lived
on Eighteenth Street, and had had to get up very early. Another woman
exonerated herself from complicity in the matter of sales by saying
that her sister-in-law had telephoned her to come down and get her a
waist; she would never have come for herself, never! There was only
one real optimist in the crowd--of course, optimism does not usually
flourish before breakfast. She declared that Smeaton's sales were all
right. If Smeaton advertised a sale it was a sale. People could say
what they liked about Jack Smeaton, but she had always found him
straight as a string.

Arthur hurried away--the woman's crude words of praise for the man he
hated struck him like a blow between the eyes.

Arthur went first to a Church of England clergyman whom he knew
slightly, and made inquiries. The clergyman was unable to give any
information about the young man. He knew him well by sight, he said,
but he had never spoken to him. He directed Arthur to go to one of
the wardens of his church, a Mr. Bevan, who was one of the old-timers
in Brandon and knew everybody.

To Mr. Bevan's office Arthur went, and waited there an hour, for the
senior member of the firm of Bevan & Wallace, real estate brokers,
did not begin the day very early. However, he did come at last, and
looked sharply at Arthur's eager face as he made known his business.

"Smeaton?" Mr. Bevan cried, when Arthur was through speaking. "What
do I know about young Jack Smeaton? What do you know about him? If
you can tell me anything that he has been up to that is very bad,
I'll be glad to hear it, the cheeky young beggar. Think of it! Last
fall he went out making political speeches--I heard him! He's a rabid
Grit, too, will stop at nothing to get a vote. Oh, yes, I know Jack
Smeaton."

"Would you call him a man of honour?" Arthur asked.

"Man of honour?" the old man cried exci