“Oh yes, I can see it,” cried Kenneth. “Here, Scoody, this gentleman wants a light for his pipe; throw him a box of matches.”
“No nonsense, please,” cried the man. “I come in the name of the law. Sandy, gang and ope that gate.”
“Gin ye gang that gate,” roared Tavish, “I’ll break the head o’ ye.”
The man who had stepped forward, started back at this menacing warning, for Tavish suddenly appeared standing up like a giant near the gateway, with something which looked like a great stone in his hand.
“Put that doon, mon,” cried the bailiff. “Ye’ll be getting into trouble. Now, young sir, come doon and ope the gate, and read this paper. I take possession here in the name of the law.”
“All right!” cried Kenneth mockingly. “Take away.”
There was a laugh, and Kenneth shouted again,—
“Hi, Grant! you can show him how to take away.”
“Are you going to open these gates, sir, and let us in?” cried the bailiff, as soon as a hearty laugh had subsided.
“No.”