Mr. James Ritchie, manager of the Bank of Montreal, glanced from the letter in his hand to the young man who had just given it to him. "Ah! you have just arrived from the old land," he said, a smile of genial welcome illuminating his handsome face. "I am pleased to hear from my old friend, Sir Archibald Brodie, and pleased to welcome any friend of his to Canada."
So saying, with fine old-time courtesy, the banker rose to his splendid height of six feet two, and shook his visitor warmly by the hand.
"Your name is--?"
"Cameron, Sir," said the young man.
"Yes, I see! Mr. Allan Cameron--um, um," with his eyes on the letter. "Old and distinguished family--exactly so! Now, then, Mr. Cameron, I hope we shall be able to do something for you, both for the sake of my old friend, Sir Archibald, and, indeed, for your own sake," said the banker, with a glance of approval at Cameron's upright form.
"Sit down, Sir! Sit down! Now, business first is my motto. What can I do for you?"
"Well, first of all," said Cameron with a laugh, "I wish to make a deposit. I have a draft of one hundred pounds here which I should like to place in your care."
"Very well, Sir," said the banker, touching a button, "my young man will attend to that."
"Now, then," when the business had been transacted, "what are your plans, Mr. Cameron? Thirty-five years ago I came to Montreal a young man, from Scotland, like yourself, and it was a lonely day for me when I reached this city, the loneliest in my life, and so my heart warms to the stranger from the old land. Yes," continued Mr. Ritchie, in a reminiscent tone, "I remember well! I hired as errand boy and general factotum to a small grocer down near the market. Montreal was a small city then, with wretched streets--they're bad enough yet--and poor buildings; everything was slow and backward; there have been mighty changes since. But here we are!
Now, what are your plans?"
"I am afraid they are of the vaguest kind," said Cameron. "I want something to do."
"What sort of thing? I mean, what has been the line of your training?"
"I am afraid my training has been defective. I have passed through Edinburgh Academy, also the University, with the exception of my last year. But I am willing to take anything."
"Ah!" said the banker thoughtfully. "No office training, eh?"
"No, Sir. That is, if you except a brief period of three or four months in the law office of our family solicitor."
"Law, eh?--I have it! Denman's your man! I shall give you a letter to Mr. Denman--a lawyer friend of mine. I shall see him personally to-day, and if you call to-morrow at ten I hope to have news for you. Meantime, I shall be pleased to have you lunch with me to-day at the club. One o'clock is the hour. If you would kindly call at the bank, we shall go down together."
Cameron expressed his gratitude.
"By the way!" said Mr. Ritchie, "where have you put up?"
"At the Royal," said Cameron.
"Ah! That will do for the present," said Mr. Ritchie. "I am sorry our circumstances do not permit of my inviting you to our home.
The truth is, Mrs. Ritchie is at present out of the city. But we shall find some suitable lodging for you. The Royal is far too expensive a place for a young man with his fortune to make."
Cameron spent the day making the acquaintance of the beautiful, quaint, if somewhat squalid, old city of Montreal; and next morning, with a letter of introduction from Mr. Ritchie, presented himself at Mr. Denman's office. Mr. Denman was a man in young middle life, athletic of frame, keen of eye, and energetic of manner; his voice was loud and sharp. He welcomed Cameron with brisk heartiness, and immediately proceeded to business.
"Let me see," he began, "what is your idea? What kind of a job are you after?"
"Indeed," replied Cameron, "that is just what I hardly know."
"Well, what has been your experience? You are a University man, I believe? But have you had any practical training? Do you know office work?"
"No, I've had little training for an office. I was in a law office for part of a year."
"Ah! Familiar with bookkeeping, or accounting? I suppose you can't run one of these typewriting machines?"
In regard to each of these lines of effort Cameron was forced to confess ignorance.
"I say!" cried Mr. Denman, "those old country people seriously annoy me with their inadequate system of education!"
"I am afraid," replied Cameron, "the fault is more mine than the system's."
"Don't know about that! Don't know about that!" replied Mr. Denman quickly; "I have had scores of young men, fine young men, too, come to me; public school men, university men, but quite unfit for any practical line of work."
Mr. Denman considered for some moments. "Let us see. You have done some work in a law office. Now," Mr. Denman spoke with some hesitation; "I have a place in my own office here--not much in it for the present, but--"
"To tell the truth," interrupted Cameron, "I did not make much of the law; in fact, I do not think I am suited for office work. I would prefer something in the open. I had thought of the land."
"Farming," exclaimed Mr. Denman. "Ah!--you would, I suppose, be able to invest something?"
"No," said Cameron, "nothing."
Denman shook his head. "Nothing in it! You would not earn enough to buy a farm about here in fifteen years."
"But I understood," replied Cameron, "that further west was cheaper land."
"Oh! In the far west, yes! But it is a God-forsaken country! I don't know much about it, I confess. I know they are booming town lots all over the land. I believe they have gone quite mad in the business, but from what I hear, the main work in the west just now is jaw work; the only thing they raise is corner lots."
On Cameron's face there fell the gloom of discouragement. One of his fondest dreams was being dispelled--his vision of himself as a wealthy rancher, ranging over square miles of his estate upon a "bucking broncho," garbed in the picturesque cowboy dress, began to fade.
"But there is ranching, I believe?" he ventured.
