"Ah," said James Lauder, "now you're talking. What part of Scotland is
'home' to you?"

"A place they call Priorsford. I was born there."

"I know it. I've fished all round there. A fine countryside."

Interest lit for a moment the dull grey eyes of Peter Reid.

"I haven't fished," he said, "since I was a boy. Did you ever try the
Caddon Burn? There are some fine pools in it. I once lost a big fellow
in it and came over the hills a disappointed laddie.... I remember what
a fine tea my mother had for me." He reached for his hat and gave a
half-ashamed laugh.

"How one remembers things! Well, I'll go. What do you say the other
man's name is? Yes--yes. Life's a short drag; it's hardly worth
beginning. I wish, though, I'd never come near you, and I would have
gone on happily till I dropped. But I won't leave my money to any
charity, mind that!"

He walked towards the door and turned.

"I'll leave it to the first person who does something for me without
expecting any return.... By the way, what do I owe you?"

And Peter Reid went away exceeding sorrowful, for he had great
possessions.