"It's a daft-like thing for an auld man like you to be traivellin'
the roads. Ye maun be ill-off for a job." Questioned as to
himself, he became, as the newspapers say, "reticent," and having
reached his bing of stones, turned rudely to his duties. "Awa' hame
wi' ye," were his parting words. "It's idle scoondrels like you
that maks wark for honest folk like me."

The morning was not a success, but the strong air had given Dickson
such an appetite that he resolved to break his rule, and, on
reaching the little town of Kilchrist, he sought luncheon at the
chief hotel. There he found that which revived his spirits.
A solitary bagman shared the meal, who revealed the fact that he was
in the grocery line. There followed a well-informed and most
technical conversation. He was drawn to speak of the United Supply
Stores, Limited, of their prospects and of their predecessor,
Mr. McCunn, whom he knew well by repute but had never met.
"Yon's the clever one." he observed. "I've always said there's no
longer head in the city of Glasgow than McCunn. An old-fashioned
firm, but it has aye managed to keep up with the times. He's just
retired, they tell me, and in my opinion it's a big loss to the
provision trade...." Dickson's heart glowed within him. Here was
Romance; to be praised incognito; to enter a casual inn and find
that fame had preceded him. He warmed to the bagman, insisted on
giving him a liqueur and a cigar, and finally revealed himself.
"I'm Dickson McCunn," he said, "taking a bit holiday. If there's
anything I can do for you when I get back, just let me know." With
mutual esteem they parted.

He had need of all his good spirits, for he emerged into an
unrelenting drizzle. The environs of Kilchrist are at the best