When the doctor placed the precious bag beside Sir George in our
solitary first next morning, he laid a cheque beside it and was about to
leave.

"No, no," said the great man. "Mrs. Macfayden and I were on the gossip
last night, and I know the whole story about you and your friend.

"You have some right to call me a coward, but I'll never let you count
me a mean, miserly rascal," and the cheque with Drumsheugh's painful
writing fell in fifty pieces on the floor.

[Illustration: "I'M PROUD TO HAVE MET YOU"]

As the train began to move, a voice from the first called so that all
the station heard. "Give's another shake of your hand, MacLure; I'm
proud to have met you; you are an honor to our profession. Mind the
antiseptic dressings."

It was market day, but only Jamie Soutar and Hillocks had ventured down.

"Did ye hear yon, Hillocks? hoo dae ye feel? A'll no deny a'm lifted."

Halfway to the Junction Hillocks had recovered, and began to grasp the
situation.

"Tell's what he said. A' wud like to hae it exact for Drumsheugh."

"Thae's the eedentical words, an' they're true; there's no a man in
Drumtochty disna ken that, except ane."