"far-awa'" cousin in New York, who, report said, had done well in the
plastering business, and Sandy never doubted but that one Morrison would
help another Morrison the wide world over. With this faith in their
hearts and a few shillings in their pockets, the two lads landed. The
American Morrison had not degenerated. He took kindly to his kith and
kin, and offered to teach them his own craft.

For some time the brothers were well content; but Sandy was of an
ambitious, adventurous temper, and was really only waiting until he felt
sure that wee Davie could take care of himself. Nothing but the Great
West could satisfy Sandy's hopes; but he never dreamt of exposing his
brother to its dangers and privations.

"You're nothing stronger than a bit lassie, Davie," he said, "and you're
no to fret if I don't take you wi' me. I'm going to make a big fortune,
and when I have gotten the gold safe, I'se come back to you, and we'll
spend it thegither dollar for dollar, my wee lad."

"Sure as death! You'll come back to me?"

"Sure as death, I'll come back to you, Davie!" and Sandy thought it no
shame to cry on his little brother's neck, and to look back, with a
loving, hopeful smile at Davie's sad, wistful face, just as long as he
could see it.

It was Davie's nature to believe and to trust. With a pitiful confidence
and constancy he looked for the redemption of his brother's promise.
After twenty years of absolute silence, he used to sit in the evenings
after his work was over, and wonder "how Sandy and he had lost each
other." For the possibility of Sandy forgetting him never once entered