"Tut, tut! The claithes were for his nephew. There was some trouble anent the bill, but the old man gied a note for the amount at last, at three months. It's due in twenty days now. As he banks wi' your firm, ye may collect it for me; it will be an easy-made penny or twa."
"I would like to buy this note. What will you sell it for?"
"I'm no minded to sell it. What for do ye want it?"
"Nothing particular. I'll give you #90 for it."
"If it's worth that to you, it is worth mair. I'm no minded to tak #90."
"I'll give you #95."
"I'm no minded to tak it. It's worth mair to you, I see that. What are you going to mak by it? I'll sell it for half o' what you are counting on." "Then you would not make a bawbee. I am going to ware #95 on—on a bit of revenge. Now will you go shares?"
"Not I. Revenge in cold blood is the deil's own act. I dinna wark wi' the deil, when it's a losing job to me."
"Will you take #95 then?"
"No. When lads want whistles they maun pay for them."