“No, he is not. What do you want?”
“Mr Mackhai.”
“Well, you can’t see him; he’s out. I’m his son.”
“Then ye’ll just come doon and show me the way in.”
“You mean the way out.”
“Oh no, I don’t, my whipper-snapper. Is this the way?”
“No.”
“Then which is?” said the man, looking to right and left.
“There is no way in for you,” said Kenneth; and a murmur of applause followed the words.
“Look ye here, my lad,” said the man, holding out his paper. “D’ye see this?”