gun, as I was pretty certain he had, it must be because he wanted it
for himself and not that he might disarm me. Every way I argued
it I reached the same conclusion. In Gresson's eyes I must seem
as harmless as a child.

We spent the better part of a day at Colonsay, and Gresson, so
far as his duties allowed, stuck to me like a limpet. Before I went
ashore I wrote out a telegram for Amos. I devoted a hectic hour to
the _Pilgrim's _Progress, but I could not compose any kind of
intelligible message with reference to its text. We had all the same
edition - the one in the _Golden _Treasury series - so I could have
made up a sort of cipher by referring to lines and pages, but that
would have taken up a dozen telegraph forms and seemed to me
too elaborate for the purpose. So I sent this message:

__Ochterlony, Post Office, Kyle,
I hope to spend part of holiday near you and to see you if boat's
programme permits. Are any good cargoes waiting in your
neighbourhood? Reply Post Office, _Oban.

It was highly important that Gresson should not see this, but it
was the deuce of a business to shake him off. I went for a walk in
the afternoon along the shore and passed the telegraph office, but
the confounded fellow was with me all the time. My only chance
was just before we sailed, when he had to go on board to check
some cargo. As the telegraph office stood full in view of the ship's
deck I did not go near it. But in the back end of the clachan I found
the schoolmaster, and got him to promise to send the wire. I also
bought off him a couple of well-worn sevenpenny novels.