“They say,” said Bigger, “that the leaders of the different parties had papers in their hands with directions on them. They were seen looking at them in the streets.”
“I’d like to put my hand on one of those papers,” said Donald.
“Zipperty, zipperty, zand,”
quoted Matier,
“I wish I’d a bit of that in my hand.”
“You know the old rhyme.”
Neal lay quiet, but wide awake. The conversation interested him too much to allow him to sleep. Twice he tried to speak, but each time Peg Macllrea, determined now that he was under her care to keep him quiet, put her hand over his mouth. At last he succeeded in asserting himself in spite of her.
“I saw James Finlay,” he said, “along with a party of the soldiers going up this street.”
The three men at the table turned to him. Donald seemed about to cross-question him when Peg Macllrea spoke.
“Is it a bit of the soger’s paper you’re wantin’? Here’s for you.”