Had the place been lonely he might have contemplated highway robbery, but they were at the entrance to a village, and the sight of a public-house awoke his thirst.

Dickson parted with him at the cost of sixpence for a drink.
He had no more company that morning except an aged stone-breaker whom he convoyed for half a mile.

The stone-breaker also was soured with the world.

He walked with a limp, which, he said, was due to an accident years before, when he had been run into by "ane of thae damned velocipeeds." The word revived in Dickson memories of his youth, and he was prepared to be friendly.

But the ancient would have none of it.
He inquired morosely what he was after, and, on being told remarked that he might have learned more sense.