and put it on.

"Now," he added, "I think you had better go; but I leave that to the
citizens of Viking."

What they thought is easily explained. Phil Boldrick, speaking for all,
said: "Yes, you had better go--quick; but on the hop like a cur, mind
you: on your hands and knees, jumping all the way."

And, with weapons menacing him, this visitor to Viking departed,
swallowing as he went the red dust disturbed by his hands and feet.

This established Roscoe's position finally. Yet, with all his popularity
and the solid success of his work, he showed no vanity or egotism, nor
ever traded on the position he held in Viking and Sunburst. He seemed to
have no ambition further than to do good work; no desire to be known
beyond his own district; no fancy, indeed, for the communications of his
labours to mission papers and benevolent ladies in England--so much the
habit of his order. He was free from professional mannerisms.

One evening we were sitting in the accustomed spot--that is, the coping.
We had been silent for a long time. At last Roscoe rose, and walked up
and down the verandah nervously.

"Marmion," said he, "I am disturbed to-day, I cannot tell you how:
a sense of impending evil, an anxiety."

I looked up at him inquiringly, and, of purpose, a little sceptically.

He smiled something sadly and continued: "Oh, I know you think it