mean to tell me, you would have murdered your brother for a
skirling, screeching bagpipes?" I asked in horror.

"Och! hardly that, man. Murder is no' a bonny name for it. I would
just kind o' quietly have done awa' wi' him. It's maybe a pity my
conscience was so keen, for he's no' much good, is Angus; he's a
through-other customer: no' steady and law-abidin' like mysel'."

"Well, my friend," I said finally----

"Donald! that's my name."

"Well, Donald, I must be on my way."

"What's a' the hurry, man?"

"Business."

"Oh! weel; give me your hand on it. You've a fine face. The face o' a
man that, if he had a dram on him, he would give me a drop o' it."

"That I would, Donald."

"It's a pity. But ye don't happen to have the price o' the dram on ye?"

"Maybe I have, Donald."

I handed him a sixpence.

"Thank ye. I'm never wrong in the readin' o' face character."

As I made to go from him, he started off again.

"You don't happen to be a married man, wi' a wife and bairns?" he asked.

"No, Donald. Thank goodness! What made you ask that?"

"Oh! I thought maybe you were and that was the way you liked the words
o' my bit song."

I left the tinker finishing his belated breakfast and hurried down the
road toward the village.

The sun was getting high in the heavens, birds were singing and the
spring workers were busy in the fields. I took the side track down the
rough pathway leading to Modley Farm.

My good friend, big, brawny, bluff Tom Tanner,--who was standing under
the porch,--hailed me from a distance, with his usual merry shout.

"Where away, George? Feeling fit for our trip?" he asked as I got up
to him.

"I am sorry, old boy, but, so far as I am concerned, the trip is off.
I just hurried down to tell you and Jim.

"You see, Tom, there is going to be a House Party up there this
week-end and my dad's mighty anxious to have me at home; so much so,
that I would offend him if I went off. Being merely George Brammerton,
I must bow to the paternal commands, although I would rather, a hundred
times, be at the games."

Tom's face fell, and I could see he was disappointed. I knew how much
he enjoyed those week-end excursions of ours.

"The fact is," I explained, "there is going to be a marriage up there
pretty soon, and, naturally, I am wanted to meet the lady."

"Great Scott! George,--you are not trying to break it gently to me?
You are not going to get married, are you?" he asked i