Jamie put the can down on the road and stood silent. The farmer delivered himself of a volume of profane abuse. Jamie did not reply. He stood with his head bowed and to all appearances in a mood of penitence.
When the man finished his threats and abuse he stooped to pick up the can. Before his hand touched it Jamie sprang at him with the ferocity of a panther. There was a life and death tussle for a few seconds and both men went down on the road—Jamie on top. Sitting on the man's chest he took a wrist in each hand and pinned him to the ground.
"Ye think I'm a thief," he said to the man as he looked at him with eyes that burned like live coals. "I'm not, I'm an honest maan, but I haave a chile dying wi' hunger—now it's your life or his, by —— an' ye'll decide!"
"I think yer a liar as well as a thief," the man said, "but if we can prove what ye say I'm yer friend."
"Will ye go with me?"
"Aye."
"D'ye mane it?"
"Aye, I do!"
"I'll carry th' gun."
"Ye may, there's nothin' in it."