a great nation; for within the last few years a new
race had sprung up in the Oro valley, a race that was neither English,
Irish, nor Scotch, Highland nor Lowland, but a strange mixture of all,
known as Canadian. The community in the Glen had grown to quite a
respectable village, the post office adding a touch of dignity and
necessitating the new name, the name of Glenoro. And best of all,
there was the church just at the bend in the river, with the manse
beside it where the minister lived; and such had been its influence
that a fight at the corner now would have brought a shock to the whole
township.

So Scotty and his followers did not properly belong to these improved
times; they were mediaeval. The boy had been too young when Mr.
McAlpine came to be deeply affected by his great sermons; but he had
not outlived the stirring memory of the old fighting days when Callum
kept the Oa lively. Callum was still his hero, the dear old handsome
Callum, of whom he could never think even yet without a pang of regret.
Hamish and Rory had grown beyond him with the years, but Callum was
always young and bright and dashing; and Scotty was determined to be
like him and to do the great deeds Callum would certainly have done had
it not been for his untimely end.

The bell was ringing when the three conspirators met at the school
pump. Number Nine had a bell now, and there was even some agitation
for a new building. Poor old McAllister's wasted life had gone out the
autumn before like the quenching of a smouldering fire, and now that a
new man was to take his place the section was beginning to pick up
courage and look for a hopeful future.

The young men lounged in at the end of the procession and flopped into
their seats with the proper air of insupportable boredom. Scotty's
first task was to take the measure of his new instructor. At the first
glance he was conscious of a distinct sensation of disappointment. He
had expected the stranger to be young and callow, but this man had grey
hair and was apparently nearing middle age. His face, which was pale
and showed signs of ill-health, was clearly cut and refined. His frame
was well-built and wiry, and he had a pair of steady grey eyes and a
quiet, dignified manner which seemed strangely incongruous in the
position old McAllister had so long made ridiculous.

Nevertheless Scotty regarded him with strong disfavour. His white
collar, his smooth hair and his English way of sh