"Things look all right, certainly," was my summing up.
Val wrote to the factor, but the result was not over-promising. He knew of nothing suitable at present. But he would keep the case in mind, and write at once should he hear of anything available.
Both Val and I were keen on getting the matter settled, and often talked it over together, discussing ways and means. But the weeks slipped by, and we found ourselves no nearer to a solution of the difficulty. We little dreamed of the quarter from which it was eventually to come!
One day as we sat at breakfast Elsie brought in a telegram for Val. It was a somewhat unusual occurrence; for we were a good way from the office, and, porterage being expensive, we had carefully instructed our ordinary correspondents that we preferred the humbler post-card, as a rule. When a telegram did arrive, therefore, it generally presaged something of unusual importance. I saw Val's face change as he read it. He passed it over to me as he rose to write a reply. This is what I saw:
"Gowan dying wants to see you come immediately."
It was signed by a Glasgow doctor, and sent from one of the chief hotels of the city.
I followed Val to his den, where he was writing the answer.
"Would you mind my coming with you?" I asked.
"I should like it of all things," was his reply.
In less than half an hour we had started, and before night had arrived at our destination.