Starr," answered the young miner.
"Very well," said Starr, without speaking of the anonymous letter.
Then, continuing, "And can you tell me what you father wants with me?"
"Mr. Starr, my father wishes to tell you himself."
"But you know what it is?"
"I do, sir."
"Well, Harry, I will not ask you more. But let us get on, for I'm
anxious to see Simon Ford. By-the-bye, where does he live?"
"In the mine."
"What! In the Dochart pit?"
"Yes, Mr. Starr," replied Harry.
"Really! has your family never left the old mine since the cessation
of the works?"
"Not a day, Mr. Starr. You know my father. It is there he was born,
it is there he means to die!"
"I can understand that, Harry. I can understand that! His native mine!
He did not like to abandon it! And are you happy there?"
"Yes, Mr. Starr," replied the young miner, "for we love one another,
and we have but few wants."
"Well, Harry," said the engineer, "lead the way."
And walking rapidly through the streets of Callander, in a few
minutes they had left the town behind them.
CHAPTER III THE DOCHART PIT
HARRY FORD was a fine, strapping fellow of five and twenty.
His grave looks, his habitually passive expression, had from
childhood been noticed among his comrades in the mine.
His regular features, his deep blue eyes, his curly hair,
rather chestnut than fair, the natural grace of his person,
altogether made him a fine specimen of a lowlander.
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