Page:Laird of Cool's ghost (NLS104186974).pdf/13

 conſiſts with my knowledge; but, I believe, you want no information from me.

Cool. I came not here to be inſtructed by you; but I want your help of another kind.

Upon the oth of April 1724, as I was returning from Old Hanſtock, Cool came up with me on horſe-back, at the foot of the ruinous incloſure, before we came to Dod: I told him, his laſt converſation had proved ſo acceptable to me, that I was well pleafed to ſee him again, and that there was a vaſt number of things that I wanted to inform myſelf further of, if he would be ſo good as to ſatisfy me.

Cool. Laſt time we met I refuſed you nothing you aſked, and now I expect that you ſhall refuſe me nothing that I ſhall aſk.

Ogil. Nothing ſir, that is in my power, or that I can do with ſafety to my reputation and character. What then are your demands?

Cool. All that I deſire of you is, that as you promiſed that Sabbath-day you would go to my wife, who now poſeſſes all my effects, and tell her the following particulars, and tell her in my name to rectify theſe matters. First, That I was owing juftly to provoſt Croſby, 50l. Scots, and three years intereſt; but hearing of his death, my good-brother, the laird of Cl, and I, forged a diſcharge, narrated the bond, the ſum, and other particulars, with this honourable clauſe, that at that time, it had fallen by, and could not be found, with an obligation on the provoſt's part to deliver up the bond as ſoon as he could hit upon it; and this diſcharge was dated 3 months before the provoſt's death; and when his ſon and ſucceſſor, Andrew Croſby, wrote to me concerning this bond. I came to him, and ſhowed him his diſcharge, which ſilenced him, ſo that I got up my bond without more ado. And when I heard of Robert Kennedy's death, with the ſame help of Cl, I got a bill upon him for 190l. of which I got full and compleat payment, Cl got the half. When I was at Dumfries, the day that Thomas Grier d'ed, to whom I was owing an account of 361 Cl my good brother was then at London, and not being able of my ſelf, being but a bad writer, to