our and obey, having drawn several public-houses blank, ran him to
earth at last in the bar-room of the Red Lion. "Yes, yes, Kirsty," he
cried, eager to prevent her tongue, "I know I'm a blagyird; but oh, the
terrible thing that has happened!" He so possessed her with his graphic
tale that he was allowed to go chuckling back to his potations, while
she ran hot-foot to the Green Shutters.

"Eh, poo-oor Mrs. Gourlay; and oh, your poo-oor boy, too; and eh, that
brute Tam Brodie----" Even as she came through the door the voluble
clatter was shrilling out the big tidings, before she was aware of
Gourlay's presence. She faltered beneath his black glower.

"Go on!" he said, and ground it out of her.

"The damned sumph!" he growled, "to let Brodie hammer him!" For a
moment, it is true, his anger was divided, stood in equipoise, even
dipped "Brodie-ward." "I've an account to sattle wi' _him_!" he thought
grimly. "When _I_ get my claw on his neck, I'll teach him better than to
hit a Gourlay! I wonder," he mused, with a pride in which was neither
doubt nor wonder--"I wonder will he fling the father as he flang the
son!" But that was the instinct of his blood, not enough to make him
pardon John. On the contrary, here was a new offence of his offspring.
On the morrow Barbie would be burning with another affront which he had
put upon the name of Gourlay. He would waste no time when he came back,
be he drunk or be he sober; he would strip the flesh off him.

"Jenny," he said, "bring me the step-ladder."

He would pass the time till the prodigal came back--and he was almost
certain to come back, for where could he go in Barbie?--he would pass
the time by trying to improve the appearance of the house. He had spent
money on his house till the last, and even now had the instinct to
embellish it. Not that it mattered to him now; still he could carry out
a small improvement he had planned before. The kitchen was ceiled in
dark timber, and on the rich brown rafters there were wooden pegs and
bars, for the hanging of Gourlay's sticks and fishing-rods. His gun was
up there, too, just above the hearth. It had occurred to him about a
month ago, however, that a pair of curving steel rests, that would catch
the glint from the fire, would look better beneath his gun than the dull
pegs, where it now lay against a joist. He might as well pass the time
by putting them up.

The bringing of the steps, light though they were, was too much for
Janet