"My name's Morris—I live at Borcombe House—you'd better come and feed with me."
"Thanks, I'd like to, awfully."
"That's right—the old man will be glad to see you, and we'll have a game of billiards."
"I can't play."
"Never mind. I'll teach you—good game, pills."
Squire Morris was cordial from the grip of his hand to the moisture in his baggy eyes.
"The heir of Camslove," he said. "Well, well, I am so glad to see you, dear boy, so very glad to see you. You must come often."
For a moment a misgiving arose in Tommy's heart.
"Did you know my father?" he asked, as the old man held his hand.
"Yes, yes; not as well as I would have liked to know him, by no means as well as I would have liked to know him—but I knew him, oh yes. I knew him well enough."