"But—I—would you not be knowing?" he faltered.
"Knowing what?"
"That we—that I would be making the schoolhouse worse than ever?"
There was a sudden light in Monteith's eyes that would have surely convinced Scotty, had he seen it, of the new master's ability to smile.
"Well, perhaps that will help to even things up a little," he said brightly. "Come, are you willing to call it quits?"
Scotty put out his big hand swiftly, and felt it caught in a strong bony grip. And as their hands met Monteith's stern face suddenly broke out into an unexpected smile, a smile so brilliant and kindly that the boy felt it illuminate his whole being, and from that moment he was the new master's friend.
"And now," said the man, suddenly becoming grave again, "will you tell me how you come to have two names? How does a Highland Scot like you happen to have such a name as Stanwell?"
Scotty gasped; was he going to ignore the whitewashing altogether?
"It would be my father's," he answered simply, "but I would always be living here with my grandfather, and I was always called MacDonald."
"Ralph Stanwell, Ralph Stanwell," repeated the schoolmaster ruminatingly, "I've heard that name before. Why, yes; I wonder if you are any relation to the Captain Ralph Stanwell I once met in Toronto. The name is not common."