Mazarine, concerning whom he had heard things which stimulated his
imagination. To him a woman was the supreme interest of existence, apart
from making a necessary living. He was the primitive and pernicious
hunter. He had been discreet enough not to question people too closely
where Mazarine's wife was concerned, but there was, however, one gossip
whom Burlingame questioned with some freedom. This was Patsy Kernaghan.
Before the Young Doctor arrived at his office this particular morning,
Patsy, who had followed him from the Court-house, was put under a light
and skillful cross-examination. He had been of service to Burlingame more
than once; and he was regarded as a useful man to do odd jobs for his
office, as for other offices in Askatoon.
"Aw, him--that murderin' moloch at Tralee!" exclaimed Patsy when the
button was pressed. "That Methodys' fella with the face of a pirate! If
there wasn't a better Protistan' than him in the world, the Meeting
Houses'd be used for kindlin'-wood. Joel, they call him--a dacint
prophet's name misused!
"I h'ard him praying once, as I stood outside the Meetin' House windys.
To hear that holy hyena lift up his voice to the skies! Shure, I've never
been the same man since, for the voice of him says wan thing, and the
look of him another. Sez I to meself, Mr. Burlingame, y'r anner, the
minute I first saw him, sez I, 'Askatoon's no safe place for me.
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