Murchison shook his head. "'Twill not be so easy as ye think. Askin'
foolish questions here an' there, forgettin' to do things ye're told to
do, ponderin' deep over simple matters, an' above all ye're to neither
laugh nor take offense when I berate ye for a dullard. Ye get the
idea--your knowledge of fur is your only excuse for livin'?"
"I get it," smiled Hedin.
Murchison studied the younger man intently. "This Wentworth--how well
did ye know him? Or, rather, how well did he know you?"
"You are wondering whether he will recognize me?"
The factor nodded. "Yes, I would not have known ye, for as I remember
ye wore a mustache, an' were smooth of chin an' jaw, an' of course, ye
wore city clothes. But one who had known ye well wouldn't be so easy
fooled."
"He won't recognize me. We have met only a few times. But even if he
had known me much better I wouldn't be afraid, because when I left
Terrace City dressed in these togs, and carrying a lumberjacks' turkey
on my back, I stopped into a cigar store and inquired the way to the
station. The clerk who has seen me every day for years pointed out the
way without a flicker of recognition in his eyes--and I didn't have
this stubby beard then either."
Murchison seemed satisfied, and after showing his new clerk to his bed,
he returned to the stove and knocked the ash from his pipe. "John is
canny," he grinned. "As canny in the handlin' of women, as of men.
He'll have the son-in-law he wants, an' careful he'll be that he's the
man of the lass's own choosin'."