ong believed him dead, for his name had appeared in our casualty
lists among those of the killed. I was so overcome at seeing him that I
stood as one struck dumb. In a moment, however, we were clasped in each
other's arms like a couple of bairns, the tears trickling down our faces.

There we stood, speaking to each other as Scots will, in excitement, in
the broad Scotch of our childhood days, until a sharp clang awakened us.
It was from a tramcar bell. We were standing in the middle of the single
line, and completely blocking traffic. Linking our arms together we made
for the pavement.

"I'm mighty glad I met ye, Joe," was his first comment. "I've been trying
to find out your whereabouts. To think that Fate should have been kind
enough to put you in my way, like that; man, it's just grand!"

I told him of my mission in Cowdenbeath.

"Weel, I'm glad I've caught ye in time, ye bounder, cause I dinna think I
could have followed ye to the States to make a visit on ye," he said.

By this time I had fully recovered myself and scrutinized him carefully.
"You've got the same smile, Ned, but my how you've grown! You look at
least two inches taller than when I saw you last."

"And that I might," he replied; "come on and I'll tell ye all about it."

So we limped into Cook's tea rooms, secured a table in a quiet corner, and
he told me his story. He spoke in a halting manner, for it brought back
many of his sufferings, but to me it is so striking that I felt, in
finishing the tale of my war experience, you would like to know about a
war romance--for romance it surely was--with as happy an ending as any
novelist might conceive. I will tell to you, as nearly as possible in his
own words, the remarkable story he unfolded to me.

"Do ye mind when ye left me in the nook after bandaging my wounds?" he
asked. "Weel, I lay there thinking and wondering. Ye ken, Reuter, what I
was wondering about--about ye're coming back; or maybe someone else might
find me and take me back to the lines. But no help came. Then I got to
thinking of the lass, and I managed to take her letters, as well as a few
fags, from my haversack. I smoked the fags one after the other, and read
her dear kind words over and over again. My mind kept dwelling on what was
to have been our marriage day. Reuter, remember I told ye about it. It was
to have been on the 7th of August, and then on account of the war, we put
it off until after I should come back.

"And now, I