He said nowt of what had come aboot the day before. But, just as he was aboot to go, he turned to Jamie.

"Oh, aye, Jamie, man, yell no haw been to the toon the day?" he asked.

"I heard, as I was comin' up, that the strike was over and all the men were to go back to work the morn. Ye'll no be sorry to be earnin'

money again, I'm thinkin'."

Jamie dropped to his knees again, beside his wife and bairn, when the doctor had left them alone. And this time it was to thank G.o.d, not to pray for favors, that he knelt.

Do ye ken why I hae set doon this tale for you to read? Is it no plain? The way we do--all of us! We think we may live our ain lives, and that what we do affects no one but ourselves? Was ever a falswer lee than that? Here was this strike, that was so quickly called because a few men quarreled among themselves. And yet it was only by a miracle that it did not bring death to Annie and her bairn and ruin to Jamie Lowden's whole life--a decent laddie that asked nowt but to work for his wife and his wean and be a good and useful citizen.

Canna men think twice before they bring such grief and trouble into the world? Canna they learn to get together and talk things over before the trouble, instead of afterward? Must we act amang ourselves as the Hun acted in the wide world? I'm thinking we need not, and shall not, much longer.

CHAPTER VII

The folks we met were awfu' good to Mackenzie Murdoch and me while we were on tour in yon old days. I've always liked to sit me doon, after a show, and talk to some of those in the audience, and then it was even easier than it is the noo. I mind the things we did! There was the time when we must be fishermen!

It was at Castle Douglas, in the Galloway district, that the landlord of our hotel asked us if we were fishermen. He said we should be, since, if we were, there was a loch nearby where the sport was grand.

"Eh, Mac?" I asked him. "Are ye as good a fisherman as ye are a gowfer?"

"Scarcely so good, Harry," he said, smiling.

"Aweel, ne'er mind that," I said. "We'll catch fish enough for our supper, for I'm a don with a rod, as you'll see."

Noo, I believed that I was strictly veracious when I said that, even though I think I had never held a rod in my hand. But I had seen many a man fishing, and it had always seemed to me the easiest thing in the world a man could do. So forth we fared together, and found the boat the landlord had promised us, and the tackle, and the bait. I'll no say whether we took ought else--'tis none of your affair, you'll ken!

Nor am I making confession to the wife, syne she reads all I write, whether abody else does so or nicht.

The loch was verra beautiful. So were the fish, I'm never doubting, but for that yell hae to do e'en as did Mac and I--tak' the landlord's word for 't. For ne'er a one did we see, nor did we get a bite, all that day. But it was comfortable in the air, on the bonny blue water of the loch, and we were no sair grieved that the fish should play us false.

Mac sat there, dreamily.

"I mind a time when I was fishing, once," he said, and named a spot he knew I'd never seen. "Ah, man, Harry, but it was the grand day's sport we had that day! There was an old, great trout that every fisherman in those parts had been after for twa summers. Many had hooked him, but he'd got clean awa'. I had no thocht of seeing him, even. But by and by I felt a great pull on my line--and, sure enow, it was he, the big fellow!"

"That was rare luck, Mac," I said, wondering a little. Had Mac been overmodest, before, when he had said he was no great angler? Or was he----? Aweel, no matter. I'll let him tell his tale.

"Man, Harry," he went on, "can ye no see the ithers? They were excited. All offered me advice. But they never thocht that I could land him. I didna mysel'--he was a rare fish, that yin! Three hours I fought wi' him, Harry! But I brocht him ash.o.r.e at last. And, Harry, wad ye guess what he weighed?"

I couldna, and said so. But I was verra thochtfu'.

"Thirty-one pounds," said Mac, impressively.

"Thirty-one pounds? Did he so?" I said, duly impressed. But I was still thochtfu', and Mac looked at me.

"Wasna he a whopper, Harry?" he asked. I think he was a wee bit disappointed, but he had no cause--I was just thinking.

"Aye," I said. "Deed an' he was, Mac. Ye were prood, the day, were ye no? I mind the biggest fish ever I caught. I wasna fit to speak to the Duke o' Argyle himsel' that day!"

"How big was yours?" asked Mac, and I could see he was angry wi'

himself. Do ye mind the game the wee yins play, of noughts and crosses? Whoever draws three noughts or three crosses in a line wins, and sometimes it's for lettin' the other have last crack that ye lose.

Weel, it was like a child who sees he's beaten himself in that game that Mac looked then.

"How big was mine, Mac?" I said. "Oh, no so big. Ye'd no be interested to know, I'm thinking."

"But I am," said Mac. "I always like to hear of the luck other fishermen ha' had."

"Aweel, yell be makin' me tell ye, I suppose," I said, as if verra reluctantly. "But--oh, no, Mac, dinna mak' me. I'm no wantin' to hurt yer feelings."

He laughed.

"Tell me, man," he said.

"Weel, then--twa thousand six hundred and fourteen pounds," I said.

Mac nearly fell oot o' the boat into the loch. He stared at me wi' een like saucers.

"What sort of a fish was that, ye muckle a.s.s?" he roared.

"Oh, just a bit whale," I said, modestly. "Nowt to boast aboot. He gied me a battle, I'll admit, but he had nae chance frae the first----"

And then we both collapsed and began to roar wi' laughter. And we agreed that we'd tell no fish stories to one another after that, but only to others, and that we'd always mak' the other fellow tell the size of his fish before we gave the weighing of ours. That's the only safe rule for a fisherman who's telling of his catch, and there's a tip for ye if ye like.

Still and a' we caught us no fish, and whiles we talked we'd stopped rowing, until the boat drifted into the weeds and long gra.s.s that filled one end of the loch. We were caught as fine as ye please, and when we tried to push her free we lost an oar. Noo, we could not row hame wi'oot that oar, so I reached oot wi' my rod and tried to pull it in. I had nae sort of luck there, either, and broke the rod and fell head first into the loch as well!

It was no sae deep, but the gra.s.s and the weeds were verra thick, and they closed aboot me the way the arms of an octopus mich and it was scary work gettin' free. When I did my head and shoulders showed above the water, and that was all.

"Save me, Mac!" I cried, half in jest, half in earnest. But Mac couldna help me. The boat had got a strong push from me when I went over, and was ten or twelve feet awa'. Mac was tryin' to do all he could, but ye canna do muckle wi' a flat bottomed boat when ye're but the ane oar, and he gied up at last. Then he laughed.

"Man, Harry, but ye're a comical sicht!" he said. "Ye should appear so and write a song to go wi' yer looks! Noo, ye'll not droon, an', as ye're so wet already, why don't ye wade ower and get the oar while ye're there?"

He was richt, heartless though I thought him. So I waded over to where the oar rested on the surface of the water, as if it were grinning at me. It was tricksy work. I didna ken hoo deep the loch micht grow to be suddenly; sometimes there are deep holes in such places, that ye walk into when ye're the least expecting to find one.

I was glad enough when I got back to the boat wi' the oar. I started to climb in.

"Gie's the oar first," said Mac, cynically. "Ye micht fall in again, Harry, and I'll just be makin' siccar that ane of us twa gets hame the nicht!"

But I didna fall in again, and, verra wet and chilly, I was glad to do the rowing for a bit. We did no more fishing that day, and Mac laughed at me a good deal. But on the way hame we pa.s.sed a field where some boys were playing football, and the ball came along, unbenknownst to either of us, and struck Mac on the nose. It set it to bleeding, and Mac lost his temper completely and gave chase, with the blood running down and covering his shirt.

It was my turn to laugh at him, and yell ken that I took full advantage o't! Mac ran fast, and he caught one of the youngsters who had kicked the ball at him and cuffed his ear. That came near to makin' trouble, too, for the boy's father came round and threatened to have Mac arrested. But a free seat for the show made him a friend instead of a foe.

Speakin' o' arrests, the wonder is to me that Mac and I ever stayed oot o' jail. Dear knows we had escapades enough that micht ha' landed us in the lock up! There was a time, soon after the day we went fishing, when we made friends wi' some folk who lived in a capital house with a big fruit garden attached to it. They let us lodgings, though it was not their habit to do so, and we were verra pleased wi'

ourselves.

We sat in the sunshine in our room, having our tea. Ootside the birds were singing in the trees, and the air came in gently.

"Oh, it's good to be alive!" said Mac.