‘Dis thoo recognise this?’ he asked quietly, as he set it down on the table in front of his visitor.
‘Ay,’ replied Scotty, after a minute inspection; ‘it’s mine dootless. But what then?’
‘Wey, then, thoo has my case, an’ my pansies inside ov it; an’ here’s yors still left i’ their holes, just as they were on show-day.’
Scotty bent over the broken lid incredulously, lifted a faded specimen out, and regarded it contemptuously.
‘Na, na,’ he asserted shortly, ‘that’s no my pansies; mine were champions, an’ these is weeny things. Na, na, there’s been a bit queer play about this. Maybe Tommy changed them frae the one case to the ither.’
‘Tommy did nowt o’ the sort,’ retaliated Geordie quickly. ‘Aal that was done was to untie the label an’ clagg (stick) it on to my case instead o’ yors.’
‘Weel, it’s a dommed queer thing aaltegither,’ replied Scotty, pushing his cap from his brow, ‘and beyont me; for I’m champion, nobody can deny that, an’ a proper professor at floo’er growin’, an’ ye’re but an ammytoor, d’ye see? An’ it’s just surprising to me that ye could e’er imagine ye could compete wi’ me. But I divvn’t wish to be ower hard on ye, an’ I’ll e’en gie ye the benefit o’ the doot, as the saying is; sae I’ll just send ye back yoor gun—that is,’ he continued slowly, eyeing Geordie wistfully, ‘if ye’re wishfu’ to ha’ her back.’
‘Thoo can keep her,’ replied Geordie, ‘for it’s nae use to me nowadays; but I would like—I would be tarr’ble pleased if thoo would come——’ Here he halted abruptly, on a sudden fear lest Scotty’s suspicions of some underhand play in regard to the pansies might be again roused if he too openly requested him to come to chapel.
The other hesitated a little. ‘Weel,’ he said finally, ‘it’s a canny wee gun, an’ I would gey like to keep her. An’ as for chapel gangin’—for I suppose that’s what ye’re after—if ye divvn’t blab aboot us, wey, I’ll just tak’ a look in noo an’ again.’
‘That’s right, noo,’ [responded] Geordie gratefully, and his deep-set eyes glowed with a warmer light. ‘Shake hands on’t.’