be infused. But what happened? No, don't begin telling me till you get
yourself ready. But hurry, your meeting hour will be on in no time."

"Right-o, dad! Shame to make a slavey of you in this way. I'll be out in
a jiffy."

He threw off his coat and vest, shirt and collar, took a pail of water
to a big block in the little shed at the back, soused his head and
shoulders in it with loud snorting and puffing, and emerged in a few
minutes looking refreshed, clean and wholesome, his handsome face
shining with vigorous health.

Together they stood at the table while the son said a few words of
reverent grace.

"I'm ravenous, dad. What! Fried potatoes! Oh, you are a brick."

"Tired, boy?"

"No. That reminds me of my thrilling tale, which I shall begin after
my third slice of toast, and not before. You can occupy the precious
minutes, dad, in telling me of your excitements in the office this
afternoon."

"Don't sniff at me. I had a few, though apparently you think it
impossible in my humdrum grey life."

"Good!" said Barry, his mouth full of toast. "Go on."

"Young Neil Fraser is buying, or has just bought, the S.Q.R. ranch.