squared his shoulders and threw up his head with an air that might
have been defiance at the fact of his being more than an hour late
for his day's work. His face, however, betrayed a certain
spiritual emotion not suggestive of anticipated trouble with
employer or foreman. As a matter of fact, the familiar everyday
duty had ceased to exist for him, and if his new exaltation wavered
a little as he neared the warehouse, fifteen minutes later, it was
only because he would have to explain things to the uncle who
employed him, and to other people; and he was ever shy of speaking
about himself.

So he hurried through the warehouse without replying to the
chaffing inquiries of his mates, and ran upstairs to his uncle's
office. He was not afraid of his uncle; on the other hand, he had
never received or expected special favour on account of the
relationship.

Mr. Purdie was now a big man in the grocery trade. He had a cosy
private room with a handsome desk, a rather gorgeous carpet and an
easy-chair. He no longer attended at the counter or tied up
parcels--except when, alone on the premises late in the evening, he
would sometimes furtively serve imaginary customers, just for auld
lang syne, as he excused to himself his absurd proceeding.

'But what kep' ye late, Macgreegor?' he inquired, with a futile
effort to make his good-humoured, whiskered visage assume a stern
expression. 'Come, come, oot wi' it! An 'unce o' guid reasons is
worth a pun' o' fair apologies.'

'The recruitin' office,' said Macgregor, blushing, 'wasna open till