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Updated: June 25, 2025
Garton, due back in London on the morrow, departed at midday with an ironical smile which left a scar of irritation healed the moment his loping figure vanished round the corner of the steep lane.
He had seen that Bill Wallace, whose business it was to be suspicious at all times and of all men, had regarded him with narrowed, shrewd eyes. When Billy Jordan came in, ten minutes later, in no way surprised at the summons, since he had been called on similar errands many times, he found Bill Wallace telling a story and Tommy Garton chuckling appreciatively. "You know each other?" Garton asked.
Stubbles flung back. "What impudence! Why, I never heard the like of it before! And I won't allow it! You can go, both of you. I'll attend to my own affairs, sink or swim." Stubbles rose to his feet, signifying that the discussion was at an end. "So you don't want the money, then?" Garton asked. "No, and that's the end of it."
Stubbles," and Garton rose suddenly to his feet as he spoke, "I warn you that the moment you do that, I shall have your son arrested for attempted murder." Had Simon Stubbles received a direct blow in the face, he would not have been more surprised than at these words. His eyes bulged in amazement, and he became as pale as death. "What, what are you saying?" he gasped.
"To-morrow," Conniston was saying to Argyl, just as Tommy Garton called to Wallace to put his hands up, "we are going to open the gates at Dam Number One, and the water will run down into the main canal and find its way to Valley City. I think we have won, Argyl!"
"Merely because he thinks that I know the ways of such people, as I was brought up in the country." "We want you here in the city, though," and Garton savagely blew a great cloud of smoke across the room. "But Dr. Rannage and the majority of the people of St. Margaret's don't want me. They are delighted to think that I am going." "Yes, so I understand, confound their skins!
No move in him. Here's McKay good man, earnest, but not adaptable, like Finlayson; won't do. Here's Garton fine fellow, would do well, but hardly strong enough. So what are you to do? I have gone over the whole list of available men and I cannot find one suitable for Windermere." In this the Assembly's Convener could give him no help.
And, turning on his face, he rested his chin on his hands, and stared at the short grass where the little blue milkwort was growing.... And this is what he remembered. On the first of May, after their last year together at college, Frank Ashurst and his friend Robert Garton were on a tramp.
Anyway, if you need help, bank on me. I am always at your service. I'll bring my whole battalion to your assistance. Just send for Col. Garton of the 65th, and he'll be there with his men in no time. But, say, there's Kit at the piano; let's go and have one more good sing together, and forget all about disagreeable Church matters for the present."
Never very conscious of his surroundings, it was some time before he was aware that the youth whom Garton had called "a Saxon type" was standing outside the stable door; and a fine bit of colour he made in his soiled brown velvet-cords, muddy gaiters, and blue shirt; red-armed, red-faced, the sun turning his hair from tow to flax; immovably stolid, persistent, unsmiling he stood.
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