Тридцять дев’ять ступенів

           SoIfastenedontheprintedwords,foryoucanmakeaprettygoodnumericalcypherifyouhaveakeywordwhichgivesyouthesequenceoftheletters.

           Itriedforhours,butnoneofthewordsanswered.ThenIfellasleepandwokeatDumfriesjustintimetobundleoutandgetintotheslowGallowaytrain.TherewasamanontheplatformwhoselooksIdidn’tlike,butheneverglancedatme,andwhenIcaughtsightofmyselfinthemirrorofanautomaticmachineIdidn’twonder.Withmybrownface,myoldtweeds,andmyslouch,Iwastheverymodelofoneofthehillfarmerswhowerecrowdingintothethird-classcarriages.

           Itravelledwithhalfadozeninanatmosphereofshagandclaypipes.Theyhadcomefromtheweeklymarket,andtheirmouthswerefullofprices.IheardaccountsofhowthelambinghadgoneuptheCairnandtheDeuchandadozenothermysteriouswaters.Abovehalfthemenhadlunchedheavilyandwerehighlyflavouredwithwhisky,sotheytooknonoticeofme.Werumbledslowlyintoalandoflittlewoodedglensandthentoagreatwidemoorlandplace,gleamingwithlochs,withhighbluehillsshowingnorthwards.

           Aboutfiveo’clockthecarriagehademptied,andIwasleftaloneasIhadhoped.Igotoutatthenextstation,alittleplacewhosenameIscarcelynoted,setrightintheheartofabog.ItremindedmeofoneofthoseforgottenlittlestationsintheKarroo.Anoldstation-masterwasdigginginhisgarden,andwithhisspadeoverhisshouldersaunteredtothetrain,tookchargeofaparcel,andwentbacktohispotatoes.