Foster did not know if Scottish etiquette warranted anything more than a conventional reply, but he ventured to remark:  “You certainly seemed to have cut things rather fine.”

“I had to drive some distance and the hill roads were bad; then when we got to the town the streets were crowded.”

“That would be sae,” the old man agreed.  “Hawick’s gey thrang at the wool sales when the yarn trade is guid.”

Foster liked to talk to strangers and as the girl had not rebuffed him, he took her cloak, which looked very wet, from the rack.

“Perhaps I’d better shake this in the corridor and then we can hang it up,” he said.

She allowed him to do so and the old man remarked: 

“Guid gear’s worth the saving, and I was thinking it would be nane the waur o’ a bit shake, but if ye had leeved to my age among the mosses, ye’d no’ find yereself sae soople.”

“Any kind of gear’s worth taking care of.”

“That’s true,” agreed the other.  “A verra praise-worthy sentiment, if ye practice it.  But I wouldna’ say ye were a Scot.”

“In a sense, I’m a Canadian, but from what I’ve seen of the Ontario Scots the difference isn’t very marked.  Anyhow, they don’t buy new material until the old’s worn out.”

The man chuckled, but Foster thought the girl looked interested.

“Then you come from Canada,” she said.  “Do you know any of the Ontario cities?”

“I have been in Toronto, but I know the small towns near the Manitoba border best.  In fact, I left an ambitious place called Gardner’s Crossing about fourteen days ago.”

From the quick glance she gave him he imagined that she had heard of the town, but she said, “I have some friends in Ontario and understand that they have had what they call a set-back there.  Did this extend to the neighborhood you came from?”

Foster told her something about the development of the lumber trade and mining, but although he had hardly expected her to be interested he thought she was, and the old man’s shrewd remarks helped the conversation along.

“Isn’t the Crossing where the big factory is?  I forget the name of it,” she asked by and by.

“Hulton’s,” said Foster, and afterwards thought she tactfully encouraged him to talk about the manufacturing firm, although he did not mention Fred Hulton’s death.  Her manner, however, was quite correct; he had been of some small help, which warranted her conversing with him to pass the time.  That was all, and when their companion got out and she opened a book he went to the smoking-compartment.