half-back. Yes," cried his niece with enthusiasm,
suddenly remembering a tradition that in his youth Sir Archibald had
been a famous quarter, his one indulgence, "a glorious half-back, too!
You must remember in the match with England last fall the brilliant work
of the half-back. Everybody went mad about him. That was young Cameron!"

"You don't tell me! The left-half in the English International last
fall?"

"Yes, indeed! Oh, he's wonderful! But he has to be watched, you know,
and the young fool lost us the last--" Miss Bessie abruptly checked
herself. "But never mind! Well, after the season, you know, he got going
loose, and this is the result. Owed money everywhere, and with the true
Highland incapacity for business, and the true Highland capacity for
trusting people--"

"Huh!" grunted Sir Archibald in disapproval.

"--When his head is in a muddled condition he does something or other to
a cheque--or doesn't do it, nobody knows--and there he is in this awful
fix. Personally, I don't believe he is guilty of the crime."

"And why, pray?"

"Why? Well, Mr. Dunn, his captain, who has known him for years, says it
is quite impossible; and then the young man himself doesn't deny it."

"What? Does NOT deny it?"

"Exactly! Like a perfectly straightforward gentleman,--and I think it's
awfully fine of him,--though he has a perfectly good chance to put the
thing on a--a fellow Potts, quite a doubtful character, he simply says,
'I know nothing about it. That looks like my signature. I can't remember
doing this, don't know how I could have, but don't know a thing about
it.' There you are, Uncle! And Mr. Dunn says he is quite incapable of
it."

"Mr. Dunn, eh? It seems you build somewhat broadly upon Mr. Dunn."

The brown on Miss Bessie's check deepened slightly. "Well, Mr. Dunn is a
splendid judge of men."

"Ah; and of young ladies, also, I imagine," said Sir Archibald, pinching
her cheek.

It may have been the pinch, but the flush on her cheek grew distinctly
brighter. "Don't be ridiculous, Uncle! He's just a boy, a perfectly
splendid boy, and glorious in his game, but a mere boy, and--well, you
know, I've arrived at the age of discretion."

"Quite true!" mused her uncle. "Thirty last birthday, was it? How time
does--!"

"Oh, you perfectly horrid uncle! Thirty indeed! Are you not ashamed to
add to the already intolerable burden of my years? Thirty! No, Sir, not
by five good years at least! There now, you've made m