"I'll be there at nine, too."
"Then I'll see ye." He held out his hand and gave Carstairs a vigorous grip. The name on the card was the name of a partner of a very prominent firm of engine builders.
Carstairs felt a singular sense of satisfaction for the rest of the evening; his perturbed mind seemed at peace, somehow.
Next morning, punctually at nine, he called at the office and was shown round the extensive works by the old man in person. He explained and Carstairs listened and made occasional comments or asked questions. And ever and anon he felt a pair of keen eyes regarding him in thoughtful, shrewd glances. When they had finished the circuit of the works, Carstairs broached the subject of his patent, he felt an extreme friendliness towards this rough, shrewd man, and he knew that his labours on the patent were at last going to bear fruit.
The old man listened. "You have a model?" he asked.
"Yes."
"I'll come round and see it." And so he did there and then.
In the dingy little back room of Carstairs' diggings, he examined critically and minutely the small model.
"Ye made this yerself?"
"I did."