'But why should you not believe it?' asked Morris, ignoring the incivility of the denial. 'You see, I am a workman, at any rate in my own way, though doubtless you do not reckon us artist sort of chaps as workmen. The truth is, I decorated Sir Lothian Bell's house for him. And I worked precious hard, too, I can tell you, at some parts of the job, as I think you would have allowed had you seen me at it, lathered from top to toe in plaster and paint.'
'You really mean to say you worked in Sir Lothian Bell's house!' cried the carpenter now fairly excited.
'I assure you I did, my friend,' replied Morris good-humouredly, but surprised at the carpenter's excitement.
'Well, I never! But do you really mean it?—you're not kidding me?'
'Of course not—why should I?'
'Well, that beats everything!' shouted the carpenter. 'Why,' he said, with almost solemn emphasis, I worked at Sir Lothian Bell's house myself!
'You did?' exclaimed Morris. 'Why, it's quite a remarkable coincidence, isn't it? You and I may therefore call ourselves workmates as well as comrades. Let us shake hands on it.'
The carpenter rather grudgingly extended his hand, and, looking with dull suspicion at Morris, kept muttering to himself: 'Well, I never—well, I never! But I only half believe it,' until he again dozed over in his corner. Later on our two miles' walk sobered him up, but conscious that he had been making rather a fool of himself he kept silent for the remainder of the day.
Morris was now about to display himself in one of his explosive moods. Our train instead of stopping at Coatbridge bowled ahead to the next station, Whifflets, about two miles farther on. We had, it appeared, boarded the wrong train at Glasgow. The mistake was mine; for noticing the name 'Airdrie' on the destination board, I had assumed that, as the train was a stopping train, it would stop at Coatbridge, as was customary with the Airdrie
