“Boys!” cried Smith, “there has been a magpie about. Policemen,” he added, “did you cry ‘halt’?”
“We cried ‘Halt!’”
“Then I cry something else, ‘Bolt!’”
He suited his own actions to the word, and before either of those policemen could say “Jack-knife,” the race for liberty had commenced.
All honour to the bobbies; they did give chase, but as well might a tortoise try to catch a weasel. They were speedily distanced and left breathless far behind.
The four students went on to Balgownie Bridge, then crossed country to Woodside, when, coming to a farm, they succeeded in breakfasting on curds and cream, oatcakes, fresh butter, and new-laid eggs.
Both seconds declared that, under the circumstances, honour should be deemed satisfied. Then both principals shook hand, each, declaring himself in the wrong. Thus was a friendship established between Tom Brierly and Coleman, and—and—and they lived happy ever afterwards. But this is the true story of an Aberdeen University duel.
They never heard another word from the police-office about the escapade, so rightly judged that the magistrates had forgiven them.
. . . . . .
My description of University life in the Granite City during Sandie’s curriculum would be incomplete were I to say nothing of what I may call the bad boys of the College. Of course, you find these everywhere, though in after life they are sure to look back with some degree of sorrow on the days that are gone never to return.