“I’ve got him!” he said at last. “Oh, Shanty Moir, what a surprise you have coming to your own black self!”
MacGregor, with his senses cleared enough to realise that he was alive, and to remember how the miracle had come about, said quietly—
“Man, that was the bravest thing I ever saw a man do.”
“What?”
“Diving into that hole after me.”
“Oh, to —— with that! That’s past. The past doesn’t count—not when the very immediate future is so full of juice and interest as happens to be the case just now. I’ve got Shanty Moir, old-timer. Do you understand? He’s mine and all that he’s got is mine, and he’s going to be surprised. Oh, how surprised he’s going to be!”
MacGregor looked down at the two yards of rushing water, up at the rock walls and then at the jubilant Reivers.
“I dinna see it,” he said dryly.
“Really?” Reivers suddenly became interested in him as if he presented a rare mental problem. “Can’t you make that simple mind of yours work out the simple solution of this problem?”
MacGregor shook his head.