"Who is it?" cried the voice. "Oh, you! I thought ye were off the day?"
Dickson rose nobly to the occasion.
"I thought myself I was. But I didn't think much of Auchenlochan, and I took a fancy to come back and spend the last night of my holiday with my Auntie. I'm off to Glasgow first thing the morn's morn."
"So!" said the voice. "Queer thing I never saw ye on the Auchenlochan road, where ye can see three mile before ye."
"I left early and took it easy along the shore."
"Did ye so? Well, good-night to ye."
Five minutes later Dickson walked into Mrs. Morran's kitchen, where Heritage was busy making up for a day of short provender.
"I'm for Glasgow to-morrow, Auntie Phemie," he cried. "I want you to loan me a wee trunk with a key, and steek the doors and windows, for I've a lot to tell you."