The voices were rising like the east wind in March.
“Yo'll not, and for a very good reason too,” asseverated Tammas loudly.
“Gie us yer reason, ye muckle liar,” cried the little man, turning on him.
“Becos——” began Jim Mason and stopped to rub his nose.
“Yo' 'old yo' noise, Jim,” recommended Rob Saunderson.
“Becos——” it was Tammas this time who paused.
“Git on wi' it, ye stammerin' stirk!” cried M'Adam. “Why?”
“Becos—Owd Bob'll not rin.”
Tammas sat back in his chair.
“What!” screamed the little man, thrusting forward.