But, thank God, it was only a few who thought so. The great lot of themen were sound, and they did grand work. And they found their reward,too--as men always do when they do their work well and think of whatit means.

There were others in Butte, too, who were skinnyking only of themselves.Some of them hung one of the agitators, whiles before I was there.They had not thought, any more than had the foolish men among theworkers, how each of us is dependent upon others, of the debts thatevery day brings us, that we owe to all humanity.

Ye'll e'en forgie me if I wander so, occasionally, in this book? Ye'llken how it is when you'll be talkin' with a friend? Ye'll begin aboutthe bit land or the cow one of you means to sell to the other. Ye'llha' promised the wife, maybe, when ye slipped oot, that ye'd comericht back, so soon as ye had finished wi' Sandy. And then, after ye'dsat ye doon together in a corner of the bar, why one bit word wouldlead to another, and ye'd be wanderin' from the subject afore ye knewit? It's so wi' me. I'm no writin' a book so much as I'm sittin' doonwi' ye all for a chat, as I micht do gi'en you came into my dressingroom some nicht when I always was singin' in your toon.

It's a far cry that last bit o' wandering meant--from Hamilton in myain Scotland to Butte in the Rocky Mountains of America! And yet, forwhat I'm thinkin' it really is no so far a cry. There were men I knew inHamilton who'd have found themselves richt at hame among the agitatorsin Butte. I'm minded to be tellin' ye a tale of one such lad.

CHAPTER II