boys will
get a little fresh air and quiet after the smoke and din of Glasgow. A
little country peace to smooth out the creases in their poor little
souls."

"Maybe," said Dickson, with a vivid recollection of Dougal as he had
last seen him. Somehow he did not think that peace was likely to be
the portion of that devoted band. "But I've not come here to speak
about that."

He took off his waterproof; then his coat and waistcoat; and showed
himself a strange figure with sundry bulges about the middle. The
manager's eyes grew very round. Presently these excrescences were
revealed as linen bags sewn on to his shirt, and fitting into the
hollow between ribs and hip. With some difficulty he slit the bags and
extracted three hide-bound packages.

"See here, Mackintosh," he said solemnly. "I hand you over these
parcels, and you're to put them in the innermost corner of your strong
room. You needn't open them. Just put them away as they are, and
write me a receipt for them. Write it now."

Mr. Mackintosh obediently took pen in hand.

"What'll I call them?" he asked.

"Just the three leather parcels handed to you by Dickson McCunn, Esq.,
naming the date."

Mr. Mackintosh wrote. He signed his name with his usual flourish and
handed the slip to his client.

"Now," said Dickson, "you'll put that receipt in the strong box where
you keep my securities and you'll give it up to nobody but me in person
and you'll surrender the parcels only on presentation of the receipt.
D'you understand?"

"Perfectly. May I ask any questions?"

"You'd better not if you don't want to hear lees.'

"What's in the packages?" Mr. Mackintosh weighed them in his hand.

"That's asking," said Dickson. "But I'll tell ye this much. It's
jools."

"Your own?"

"No, but I'm their trustee."

"Valuable?"

"I was hearing they were worth more than a million pounds."

"God bless my soul," said the startled manager. "I don't like this
kind of business, McCunn."

"No more do I. But you'll do it to oblige an old friend and a good
customer. If you don't know much about the packages you know all about
me. Now, mind, I trust you."

Mr. Mackintosh forced himself to a joke. "Did you maybe steal them?"

Dickson grinned. "Just what I did. And that being so, I want you to
let me out by the back door."

When he found himself in the street he felt the huge relief of a boy
who had emerged with credit from the dentist's chair. Remember