ay will be among the pleasantest memories of those
who experienced it. The beautifully-laid-out and spacious grounds and the
auto rides! How it all helped to hasten recovery!

I cannot conclude without trying to express the praise which most
certainly belongs to the medical officers of "Craigleith." At the outbreak
of the war, Colonel Cottrill had been retired ten years, but he was found
ready when the first note of the nation's rally sounded, and there he
remained when I left, serving his king and country in relieving, by his
expert skill, the sufferings of those who come under his care. He was over
seventy years of age, but he most truly was seventy years young.

Of the nurses and sisters I could not say enough. Sister Lauder, for
instance; I have seen her do thirty-six hours' duty at one stretch,
without the slightest rest, at a time when streams of wounded were pouring
in day and night. Once she collapsed in the middle of the ward. Such
devotion, such wonderful spirit these women exhibited!

I was discharged on August 5th, 1915, being "no longer physically fit for
war service." (Para. 392, XVI, K.R.)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

On a day in February, 1916--a week prior to the sailing of the S.S.
_Tuscania_, on which I had taken passage to the United States--I had left
the office of the Anchor Line and was proceeding up the High Street, of
Cowdenbeath (across the river from Edinburgh), bent on an errand
pertaining to the preparations for my departure, when I noticed across the
way something familiar in the appearance of a tall man in khaki. Twice or
thrice I gazed at him, with a sense of dim recollection, and then I went
walking--or, rather, limping--on my way. There were uniforms everywhere
and one, even though it seemed in some way distinctive, could not hold my
attention. I started to cross the street but when I was in the car track,
in the middle, a sound arrested me.

"Reuter! Reuter!" called a voice which was strangely familiar.

Who, thought I, is this, calling me by my nickname? I turned and saw the
tall soldier whom I had noticed, limping toward me at the best gait his
lameness permitted. I perceived that he wore a Black Watch forage cap. As
I stood, awaiting his approach, I suddenly recognized him as my chum, Ned
MacD----; the same Ned whom I had left in a hollow, in a wood, in France,
grievously wounded, and who had mysteriously disappeared when I found
opportunity to return in search of him.

I had l