e was forced to read to escape the sense of them. But
it was words, words, words, that he read; the subject mattered not at
all. His head leaned heavy on his left hand and his mouth hung open, as
his eye travelled dreamily along the lines. He succeeded in hypnotizing
his brain at last, by the mere process of staring at the page.

At last he heard Janet in the lobby. That meant that school was over. He
crept down the stair.

"_You_ were playing the truant," said Janet, and she nodded her head in
accusation. "I've a good mind to tell my faither."

"If ye wud----" he said, and shook his fist at her threateningly. She
shrank away from him. They went into the kitchen together.

The range had been successfully installed, and Mr. Gourlay was showing
it to Grant of Loranogie, the foremost farmer of the shire. Mrs.
Gourlay, standing by the kitchen table, viewed her new possession with a
faded simper of approval. She was pleased that Mr. Grant should see the
grand new thing that they had gotten. She listened to the talk of the
men with a faint smile about her weary lips, her eyes upon the sonsy
range.

"Dod, it's a handsome piece of furniture," said Loranogie. "How did ye
get it brought here, Mr. Gourlay?"

"I went to Glasgow and ordered it special. It came to Skeighan by the
train, and my own beasts brought it owre. That fender's a feature," he
added complacently; "it's onusual wi' a range."

The massive fender ran from end to end of the fireplace, projecting a
little in front; its rim, a square bar of heavy steel, with bright,
sharp edges.

"And that poker, too; man, there's a history wi' that. I made a point of
the making o't. He was an ill-bred little whalp, the bodie in Glasgow. I
happened to say till um I would like a poker-heid just the same size as
the rim of the fender! 'What d'ye want wi' a heavy-heided poker?' says
he; 'a' ye need's a bit sma' thing to rype the ribs wi'.' 'Is that so?'
says I. 'How do _you_ ken what _I_ want?' I made short work o' _him!_
The poker-heid's the identical size o' the rim; I had it made to fit."

Loranogie thought it a silly thing of Gourlay to concern himself about a
poker. But that was just like him, of course. The moment the body in
Glasgow opposed his whim, Gourlay, he knew, would make a point o't.

The grain merchant took the bar of heavy metal in his hand. "Dod, it's
an awful weapon," he said, meaning to be jocose. "You could murder a man
wi't."

"Deed you could," said Lo