'We're blenders and do a very high-class business, mostly foreign.
The war's hit us wi' our export trade, of course, but we're no as
bad as some. What's your line, Mr McCaskie?'

When he heard he was keenly interested.

'D'ye say so? Ye're from Todd's! Man, I was in the book business
mysel', till I changed it for something a wee bit more lucrative. I
was on the road for three years for Andrew Matheson. Ye ken the
name - Paternoster Row - I've forgotten the number. I had a kind
of ambition to start a book-sellin' shop of my own and to make
Linklater o' Paisley a big name in the trade. But I got the offer from
Hatherwick's, and I was wantin' to get married, so filthy lucre won
the day. And I'm no sorry I changed. If it hadna been for this war, I
would have been makin' four figures with my salary and
commissions ... My pipe's out. Have you one of those rare and valuable
curiosities called a spunk, Mr McCaskie?'
He was a merry little grig of a man, and he babbled on, till I
announced my intention of going to bed. If this was Amos's
bagman, who had been seen in company with Gresson, I understood
how idle may be the suspicions of a clever man. He had probably
foregathered with Gresson on the Skye boat, and wearied that
saturnine soul with his cackle.

I was up betimes, paid my bill, ate a breakfast of porridge and
fresh haddock, and walked the few hundred yards to the station. It
was a warm, thick morning, with no sun visible, and the Skye hills
misty to their base. The three coaches on the little train were nearly
filled when I had bought my ticket, and I selected a third-class