n' get a meetin' held wi'
the rest o' the men when they come alang?"

"I will that, Andra," replied Jamie, taking the lighted lamp from his
head, and sitting down at the corner on his "hunkers." "They're a'
comin' hame anyway, for we're creelin' Tam Donaldson."

Soon the procession appeared, the hutch jolting along the rough street,
the men shouting and singing as they came. The village had turned out to
see the fun. Andrew and Jamie found themselves in the midst of a crowd
of women and children, as the foremost of the men came to a halt at the
corner.

Andrew quietly stepped out and addressed the men, asking them if they
would wait a few minutes--as they were idle in any case--to have a
meeting. All were agreed.

"Here's Sanny Robertson," said Tam Tate, peering into the breaking
light, "he'll no' likely wait, but we'll see what he says aboot it," and
all waited in silence until Robertson approached. He seemed to guess
what was in the air, and hurriedly tried to pass on, but Andrew stepped
out with the usual question.

"No," he replied uneasily, "I'll ha'e no part in ony mair strife. Folk
just get into bother for nothing. Men'll ha'e to keep mind that gaffers
now-a-days'll no' put up wi' disobedience."

"Ay, but ye maun mind," said Tam Tate hastily, "that men maun be treated
as human bein's, even by a gaffer."

"I can aye get on with the gaffer," replied Robertson, "an' I dinna see
what way ither folk canna do the same."

"That's a' richt," put in old Jamie Lauder, "but a' men are no' just
prepared to do as ye do," and there was a hint of something in his voice
which the others seemed to understand.

"I ha'e no quarrel," sulkily replied Robertson, "an' I dinna see what
way I should get into this one. I can get plenty o' work, an' ither folk
can get it too, if they like to behave themselves."

"Ye're a liar," roared Tam Tate angrily, his usual hasty temper getting
the mastery. "It's no' you that gets the work, it's Mag!"

The others laughed uproariously, for it was common knowledge that Sanny
got his good jobs because of Walker's intimacy with his wife.

"Ye leave the best man in the house every mornin' when ye gang oot!"
roared another amid coarse laughter, whilst Andrew turned to tackle the
next comer.

A few refused to wait, but it was generally known that these were the
men whose houses were always open to Walker by day or night. When they
were all gathered, Andrew Marshall stood up, and for the first