ding a Secret. I knew it as soon as I seen the man
Lean's face. I once seen the same kind o' scoondrel at the Picters.
When he opened his mouth to swear, I kenned he was a foreigner, like
the lads down at the Broomielaw. That looked black, but I hadn't got
at the worst of it. Then he loosed off at me wi' his gun."

"Were you not feared?" said Dickson.

"Ay, I was feared. But ye'll no' choke off the Gorbals Die-Hards wi' a
gun. We held a meetin' round the camp fire, and we resolved to get to
the bottom o' the business. Me bein' their Chief, it was my duty to
make what they ca' a reckonissince, for that was the dangerous job. So
a' this day I've been going on my belly about thae policies. I've
found out some queer things."

Heritage had risen and was staring down at the small squatting figure.

"What have you found out? Quick. Tell me at once." His voice was
sharp and excited.

"Bide a wee," said the unwinking Dougal. "I'm no' going to let ye into
this business till I ken that ye'll help. It's a far bigger job than I
thought. There's more in it than Lean and Spittal. There's the big man
that keeps the public--Dobson, they ca' him. He's a Namerican, which
looks bad. And there's two-three tinklers campin' down in the Garple
Dean. They're in it, for Dobson was colloguin' wi' them a' mornin'.
When I seen ye, I thought ye were more o' the gang, till I mindit that
one o' ye was auld McCunn that has the shop in Mearns Street. I seen
that ye didna' like the look o' Lean, and I followed ye here, for I was
thinkin' I needit help."

Heritage plucked Dougal by the shoulder and lifted him to his feet.

"For God's sake, boy," he cried, "tell us what you know!"

"Will ye help?"

"Of course, you little fool."

"Then swear," said the ritualist. From a grimy wallet he extracted a
limp little volume which proved to be a damaged copy of a work entitled
Sacred Songs and Solos. "Here! Take that in your right hand and put
your left hand on my pole, and say after me. 'I swear no' to blab what
is telled me in secret, and to be swift and sure in obeyin' orders,
s'help me God!' Syne kiss the bookie."

Dickson at first refused, declaring that it was all havers, but
Heritage's docility persuaded him to follow suit. The two were sworn.

"Now," said Heritage.

Dougal squatted again on the hearth-rug, and gathered the eyes of his
audience. He was enjoying himself.

"This day," he said slowly, "I got inside the Ho