I picked it up
listlessly and unfolded it.

"By Jove, Val! Here it is!" I cried exultantly.

He skipped across the room to read the paper over my shoulder.

"That's it, all right!" was his exclamation. "Thank God!"

It was but a sheet of common note-paper, bearing the printed heading of
the hotel. Across it was written in shaky characters the following:

"This is the last will and testament of me, Alexander Gowan, of 269
Heniker Street, Chicago, U. S. A. I revoke all former testaments, and
hereby bequeath the whole of the property of which I die possessed to
Rev. Valentine Fleming of Ardmuirland, Scotland, in trust for Christian
McRae, widow of Donald Logan, of Ardmuirland, and her children.

"ALEXANDER JOHN GOWAN.

"May 16, 1912."

"Blessed Scottish law!" cried Val, when he had scanned the scrap of
paper that meant so much to us. "It's not an imposing document, but
it'll stand good in this country. Let's take it to Dalziel at once."

The lawyer corroborated Vat's declaration. It was a holograph will,
and therefore needed no witness; Gowan was man of business enough to
realize that. He had probably slipped it into the drawer where some of
his clothes were, meaning to hand it to Val. The drawer must have been
over-full, and the mere opening of it would sweep the bit of paper to
the back, where it had fallen behind the other drawers.

* * * * * *

Six months later we had a Catholic wedding in the little church at
Ardmuirland. All the congregation flocked up for the ceremony and the
nuptial Mass--for the bridegroom had suggested that it would be well to
begin his married life in perfect union with his wife, and he had been
received into the Church a month before.

The Camerons are very well off; for poor old Gowan, though not a
millionaire, had put by pots of money. But it would suit neither
Lachlan nor his wife to lead an idle life. They have got Redbank into
their own hands and are turning it into quite a model farm.

The children are at school. Jeemsie is said to be able to do
everything except talk. Tam is bent on being a priest.

Val got his shinty club and his parish hall, and if he wants anything
for the church or for himself he has but to mention it. Indeed, he had
almost to use force to prevent Christian handing over half her fortune.

Golden dreams do, now and again, it seems, get realized!

X

A RUSTIC PASTOR

"In sober state