It was only as he plodded along the Tavistock Road, limping in the
regulation shoes, that the American remembered that he had quite
omitted to ask the convict any questions. He had parted with his
mackintosh, and it was pouring. Tavistock was two miles off, and he
had no notion what trains there were to Plymouth. Yet he regretted
nothing, and at times a queer smile flitted over his countenance.
He was a man holding very decided views of his own upon most
subjects, and no one suspected him of it, because he never sought to
force them upon others. What he loved above all in men was that
species of audacious and gentlemanly coolness which is found in
greater perfection in the ranks of the British aristocracy than
anywhere else in the world.

He was not the sort of man to be afraid of any one, or two, or three
men--he had never, for a moment, thought of fearing the fellow who
had gone off with his mackintosh, his waders, and his two five-pound
notes. We all try to be our ideal, and Caleb S. Harkness prided
himself on being the coolest man in the two hemispheres. He had met
a cooler, and rather than acknowledge his inferiority he had parted
with the valuables above mentioned, with no other guarantee of their
safe return than a gentlemanly inflection of voice.

Two days later he received his waders, mackintosh, and brogues; also
a new fishing-rod of the very best quality made in England, and two
five-pound notes.



America loves to show her appreciation of her great sons, but she
does not always do it wisely when she begins to cast honours about.