"Who said it? What does it matter if M'sieu' Marchand said it--it's true.
If I said it, it's true. All of us in this room say it, and it's true.
Young Marchand says what Manitou says."
The old man's eyes grew brighter--they were exceedingly sharp for one so
old, and he said quite gently now:
"M. Marchand said it first, and you all say it afterwards--ah, bah! But
listen to me; I know Max Ingolby that you think is such a villain; I know
him well. I knew him when he was a little boy and--"
"You was his nurse, I suppose!" cried the Englishman's voice amid a roar
of laughter.
"Taught him his A-B-C-was his dear, kind teacher, eh?" hilariously cried
another.
The old man appeared not to hear. "I have known him all the years since.
He has only been in the West a few years, but he has lived in the world
exactly thirty-three years. He never willingly did anybody harm--never.
Since he came West, since he came to the Sagalac, he's brought work to
Lebanon and to Manitou. There are hundreds more workmen in both the towns
than there were when he came. It was he made others come with much money
and build the factories and the mills. Work means money, money means
bread, bread means life--so."
The big river-driver, seeing the effect of the old man's words upon the
crowd, turned to them with an angry gesture and a sneer.
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