id not highly esteem the boy's tutor, though
necessity compelled him to employ his services.

The Rev. Mr. M'Gregor was, no doubt, a clever man in his way, but he
was not a man of high principle. He hated trouble of any sort, and
expediency was usually his guide. Still he had had much experience in
teaching, and Aunt Annie was quite equal to the task of sounding his
knowledge of classics and mathematics.

These were beyond reproach, and she esteemed it a very fortunate
accident which had thrown him in her way.

One of the most strict laws laid down at Loch Lossie was that the boys
were never to make use of the boats moored at the little landing-stage.

It came to Jeff's knowledge that Brian repeatedly disobeyed this order.
He knew that at dusk his cousin frequently went out alone in a little
skiff that was easily managed. Finally, after many anxious days, he
resolved to tell Brian that he was aware of his disobedience.

Brian turned on him fiercely, calling him "Spy," "Sneak," and "Holly."

Jeff did not lack in daring or intrepidity, and it was hard to be
reproached with timidity by one he knew his inferior in the respect of
courage. Then he remembered that to be patient was not the least part
of a hero's task, and checked the angry words that were about to rise.

One morning Uncle Hugh came into the school-room, where the boys were
always to be found at this hour. His face was graver than usual, and
his voice sounded cold and cruel in Jeff's ears.

"One of you boys has disobeyed me. You have been out in the skiff. I
suppose it was last evening while we were at dinner."

He looked steadily at the two lads, who were gathering their books
together to take down to Mr. M'Gregor's house. Jeff coloured up to the
roots of his curly hair, and looked down, unwilling to confront the
guilty one's confusion. But Brian, with the angelic face and innocent
aspect he habitually wore, was self-possessed enough to ask:

"Did somebody say they saw one of us, papa?"

Mr. Colquhoun looked at his own son, and never doubted his innocence.

"No, my boy, but I found a pocket-knife in the skiff and a coil of gut,
with two fish. I know you have both knives exactly alike, and probably
only one of you can tell me to which it belongs. Geoffry, have you
your knife in your pocket?"

Silence, and no movement on Jeff's part. In a moment Jeff looked up,
and in his steady brown eyes there was something which Uncle Hugh could
not