"By Jingo!" cried the other, passing his hand over his fair, closely cropped beard. "Why didn't you say you were coming back? And did you get this splendid chap out West?" For Roy, having sniffed the new-comer and pronounced him satisfactory, was now looking up gravely into that worthy's face and wagging his brush as if desirous of an introduction. "Yes. Traded him from an Indian who was battering him up a good bit with a rail because he didn't take kindly to dragging a sledge. And ever since he has stuck to me very much closer than a brother. But then, you see he's only a dog, not a human, which explains it." "Well, you'd better shake down here," said Venn. "That is, if Mrs Symes has a room. I'll ring and ask." Mrs Symes had a room, and the traveller shook down accordingly. "I suppose you've been having a rare good time of it out West," began Venn as later in the evening they sat over their cigars. "Shooting grizzlies and Indians, and chevying buffaloes, while a poor stockbroking devil like myself has been tied by the leg to this well-worn spot. Why it doesn't seem eight years since I saw you off that jolly fine morning in search of fortune. And you're twice the man you were then. No wonder I didn't know you at first." "It is eight years though, rather over than under. As for having a good time of it, `Least said, etc.' That is until the good old Squire's bequest took effect, and then things weren't so bad, because, you see, I could do what I liked, and I did. I forgot--you haven't heard--how should you have?" seeing the other look slightly mystified. "Well then, the old Squire--my father's brother, you know--and I used to be very thick, which was good and sufficient reason for my not being allowed to go near him. He died five years ago, as you may or may not know, and I own to feeling a trifle sold at being as I thought cut off with a shilling. Well, a year back, I heard that the good old chap had left me all his personal property to the figure of seven or eight hundred a year. His will stipulated that I was to be kept in the dark about it until my thirtieth birthday--a proviso for which I suppose I ought to feel devoutly grateful, for I was a consummate young ass in those days I'm afraid. Cranston, of course, was entailed, so he could do nothing with that. But he did the best he could for me." "Lucky dog," said Venn. "And now you'll get Cranston into the bargain." "Oh, hold hard, there. My chances of that are about equal to yours. Cranston _was_ entailed--now it isn't; my affectionate parent was the last man of that ilk. He can will it as he likes now or make a fresh entail, and I'm afraid that won't be in my direction." "But you and he are surely not at cuts after all these years," said Venn. "He'll be glad enough to see you again now."