The old schoolmaster was easily duped by this trick, and on an
appointed day the two set off. The first obstacle arose at the
station, when Farquharson had taken the tickets, for which the "friend"
had provided the necessary money.

"I should like to have my own ticket," the older man remarked with an
air of dignity. "I'm not a bairn to be likely to lose it."

Here was a slight difficulty! Farquharson had taken a single ticket
for the other and a return for himself. It would never do to allow
this to be known. On the other hand, McConnachie must be kept in good
humor or he would give trouble to his guardian, who began now to see
the weak points in the plot. So trusting to the certainty of being
able to get back the remaining half-ticket when the old man was safely
lodged in the Asylum, he retained the single ticket and gave
McConnachie the other.

They reached the end of their railway journey successfully, and
Farquharson managed to explain their destination to a porter privately,
and asked him to get a cab for them. The man was either stupid or was
disappointed at receiving an insignificant tip, since Farquharson was
not one to waste money unnecessarily; for he gave the direction
"Asylum" to the driver in a voice that McConnachie must have been deaf
not to have heard distinctly. Farquharson glanced at once at his
companion, but the old man's face was expressionless, and he persuaded
himself, almost against his will, that McConnachie was too much taken
up with the novelty of the situation to catch the words spoken. The
eagerness with which the old man took notice of every feature of their
progress tended to confirm the idea, and by the time the Asylum was
reached Farquharson felt more at ease.