TAM O' THE SCOOTS
tress, if ye want to gie yeer thochts a good airin'."
"I'm really sorry," said the girl penitently. "I'm afraid your cycle is smashed."
"Don't let it worry ye," said Tam calmly. "It's no' ma bike anyway; it belangs to one of the hateful governin' classes, an' A've nothin' to do but mak' guid the damage."
"Oh," said the girl blankly, then she suddenly went red.
"Of course," she began awkwardly, "as I was responsible—I can well afford—"
She halted lamely and Tam's eyes twinkled. "Maybe ye're the niece of Andrew Carnegie an' ye've had yeer monthly library allowance," he said gravely, "an' maybe ye could spare a few thousand dollars or cents—A've no' got the exact coinage in ma mind—to help a wee feller buy a new whizzer-wheel. A' take it kindly, but guid money makes bad frien's."
"I didn't intend offering you money," she said hurriedly, flushing deeper than ever,
166
