Andrew Amos I took the train three days later from King's Cross to Edinburgh.

I went to the Pentland Hotel in Princes Street and left there a suit-case containing some clean linen and a change of clothes.

I had been thinking the thing out, and had come to the conclusion that I must have a base somewhere and a fresh outfit.

Then in well-worn tweeds and with no more luggage than a small trench kit-bag, I descended upon the city of Glasgow.
I walked from the station to the address which Blenkiron had given me.
It was a hot summer evening, and the streets were filled with bareheaded women and weary-looking artisans.

As I made my way down the Dumbarton Road I was amazed at the number of able-bodied fellows about, considering that you couldn't stir a mile on any British front without bumping up against a Glasgow battalion.