ose the most valuable man who ever
produced dividends for him."

"I'll do that!" I declared, and I meant it.

Two hours later my train rumbled out of the station and headed for
Scotland. I had been supremely satisfied with my progress during the
day, but when I began to analyse the situation I was unable to discover
any sound basis for self-congratulation.

I merely had ascertained her probable location. That did not improve my
prospects. I had not the slightest reason to believe that she had
changed her attitude toward me, and I had no right to assume that she
would receive, much less listen to me. She might be married, and
probably was. I thought of these things and fell from the fool's heaven
to which I had climbed.

But on I went toward Scotland. I would drink the cup to its lees. I
foil into a troubled sleep, and after a miserable night did not know
whether to be pleased or scared that I had finished the longer stage of
my journey.

The early morning train from out Edinburgh's dingy station carried one
passenger who paid small attention to the scenery between the beautiful
capital of Scotland and its famous university town. My one thought when
we crossed over the great bridge which spans the Firth of Forth was that
it was unconscionably long, and that the train slackened its speed in
taking it.

Then we came to a junction within sight of St. Andrews, and when I was
informed by the railway agent that I would have to wait half an hour for
a connection I told him that I would walk down the track. He informed me
that this was against the law. Having some familiarity with the monotony
with which the laws are enforced in Scotland, I smoked and waited.

The railroad skirts the links of St. Andrews, and from its pictures I
recognised the club house. Disdaining to ask questions or take a
carriage, I ordered my luggage to a hotel and started on a brisk walk,
hoping thus to brace myself for the ordeal ahead of me.

_She_ was here. Somewhere in this picturesque old town _she_
was living and breathing that very moment. _She_ had passed through
the street which then resounded with my brisk footsteps. Her name had
been Grace Harding. Was it yet Grace Harding?

I ran square into Carter!

"Why, my dear Smith!" he exclaimed, clutching at his monocle which came
as near falling as it well could and remain in place. "Why don't you
call 'Fore!' when you drive ahead like this? You're in Scotland, my dear
fellow!"

I begged