h violence.

The company waited, expecting to hear an order summarily evicting the
tramp from his refuge by the Drowned Lands. But the mill-owner made no
comment. "Huh!" he remarked, an enigmatic ejaculation that left all in
doubt as to his feelings. But the next night the village knew how deep
was the elder's resentment against the minister, for early in the
evening Sandy repaired to the Cameron milkstand, and, to the
philosopher's joyful amazement, announced that he had decided, after
all, to hire John McIntyre as night watchman.

CHAPTER VI

A FAMOUS PRACTITIONER

But dere's wan man got hees han' full t'roo ev'ry kin' of wedder,
An' he's never sure of not'ing but work an' work alway--
Dat's de man dey call de doctor, when you ketch heem on de contree,
An' he's only man I know--me, don't get no holiday.
--WILLIAM HENRY DRUMMOND.

When the new doctor's horse arrived, and he began to drive about the
country, even the outrageous conduct of Sandy McQuarry's new watchman,
and the antics of the orphans, became matters of secondary interest to
the village. When he drove away of a morning, every one ran across to
every one else's house to debate the question as to whether he had gone
to see a patient or only to exercise his horse. Of course, when some
one came for him the problem was solved; but sometimes he went off on
an independent excursion, and that was always puzzling. Miss Weir had
once known a doctor who used to drive like mad all over the country,
with his satchel set up on the seat, where every one could see it, and
never go to see one solitary patient for weeks at a time. Ella Anne
Long was sure the new doctor wasn't that kind; and anyway, Davy Munn
had told Jean Cameron that the doctor often told him, when he drove
away, that he was just going to give his horse some exercise.

Of course, it was no use asking Mrs. Munn. As usual, she "didn't
know." Even when some one called for the doctor, in his absence, and
had every legitimate right to be apprised of his whereabouts, it was
with the greatest difficulty that any hint of it could be extracted
from his housekeeper. She always spoke in broad generalities. Yes, he
was gone away. To see a patient? Well, likely. Mrs. Munn couldn't
tell. Where? Oh, out in the country. It might be up Glenoro way, or
down by Lake Simcoe. She was not sure, now, but that she had seen him
drive out east, or was it west? She hadn't remembere