e straw, his head far out, his
neck unnaturally long, his limbs sprawling, rigid. What a spanker Tam
had been! What gallant drives they had had together! When he first put
Tam between the shafts, five years ago, he had been driving his world
before him, plenty of cash and a big way of doing. Now Tam was dead, and
his master netted in a mesh of care.

"I was always gude to the beasts, at any rate," Gourlay muttered, as if
pleading in his own defence.

For a long time he stared down at the sprawling carcass, musing. "Tam
the powney," he said twice, nodding his head each time he said it; "Tam
the powney," and he turned away.

How was he to get to Skeighan? He plunged at his watch. The ten o'clock
train had already gone, the express did not stop at Barbie; if he waited
till one o'clock he would be late for his appointment. There was a
brake, true, which ran to Skeighan every Tuesday. It was a downcome,
though, for a man who had been proud of driving behind his own
horseflesh to pack in among a crowd of the Barbie sprats. And if he went
by the brake, he would be sure to rub shoulders with his stinging and
detested foes. It was a fine day; like enough the whole jing-bang of
them would be going with the brake to Skeighan. Gourlay, who shrank from
nothing, shrank from the winks that would be sure to pass when they saw
him, the haughty, the aloof, forced to creep among them cheek for jowl.
Then his angry pride rushed towering to his aid. Was John Gourlay to
turn tail for a wheen o' the Barbie dirt? Damn the fear o't! It was a
public conveyance; he had the same right to use it as the rest o' folk!

The place of departure for the brake was the "Black Bull," at the Cross,
nearly opposite to Wilson's. There were winks and stares and
elbow-nudgings when the folk hanging round saw Gourlay coming forward;
but he paid no heed. Gourlay, in spite of his mad violence when roused,
was a man at all other times of a grave and orderly demeanour. He never
splurged. Even his bluster was not bluster, for he never threatened the
thing which he had not it in him to do. He walked quietly into the empty
brake, and took his seat in the right-hand corner at the top, close
below the driver.

As he had expected, the Barbie bodies had mustered in strength for
Skeighan. In a country brake it is the privilege of the important men to
mount beside the driver, in order to take the air and show themselves
off to an admiring world. On the dickey were ex-Pro