se,"--went on Angus,
reflectively--"And I don't excuse it. But I'm not one of the 'meek who
shall inherit the earth.' I'm a robustious combustious sort of chap--if
a fellow knocks me down, I jump up and give it him back with as jolly
good interest as I can--and if anyone plays me a dirty trick I'll move
all the mental and elemental forces of the universe to expose him.
That's my way--unfortunately----"

"Why 'unfortunately'?" asked Helmsley.

Reay threw back his head and indulged in one of his mellow peals of
laughter.

"Can you ask why? Oh David, good old David!--it's easy to see you don't
know much of the world! If you did, you'd realise that the best way to
'get on' in the usual way of worldly progress, is to make up to all
sorts of social villains and double-dyed millionaire-scoundrels, find
out all their tricks and their miserable little vices and pamper them,
David!--pamper them and flatter them up to the top of their bent till
you've got them in your power--and then--then _use_ them--use them for
everything you want. For once you know what blackguards they are,
they'll give you anything not to tell!"

"I should be sorry to think that's true,"--murmured Mary.

"Don't think it, then,"--said Angus--"You needn't,--because millionaires
are not likely to come in your way. Nor in mine--now. I've cut myself
adrift from all chance of ever meeting them. But only a year ago I was
on the road to making a good thing out of one or two of the so-called
'kings of finance'--then I suddenly took a 'scunner' as we Scots say, at
the whole lot, and hated and despised myself for ever so much as
thinking that it might serve my own ends to become their tool. So I
just cast off ropes like a ship, and steamed out of harbour."

"Into the wide sea!" said Mary, looking at him with a smile that was
lovely in its radiance and sympathy.

"Into the wide sea--yes!" he answered--"And sea that was pretty rough at
first. But one can get accustomed to anything--even to the high
rock-a-bye tossing of great billows that really don't want to put you to
sleep so much as to knock you to pieces. But I'm galloping along too
fast. From the time I made friends with young bulls to the time I began
to scrape acquaintance with newspaper editors is a far cry--and in the
interim my father died. I should have told you that I lost my mother
when I was born--and I don't think that the great wound her death left
in my father's heart ever really healed. He neve