“Didna ye get the Angus doddie, Drumsheugh? weel, ye 'ill no be hard tae deal wi'; an' Bogie took anither—he's no here, but he's a cautious man, Bogie; there's nae fear o' him. That's five.
“Whar's the lave? Ou aye, a' mind Mary Robertson scrapit up eneuch for the white coo, a fine milker; it wud hardly be richt, maybe, tae ask her—”
“Ae coo as gude's anither tae Mary,” broke in Drumsheugh. “A 'll see she disna lose.”
“Weel, that's a' richt,” Hillocks went on; “and we 've juist tae find anither, and that 's the hale hypothic.”
“It 's no ill tae find,” said Jamie, “but it 'ill beat ye tae get her.”
“Ye're no meanin'—man,—ye hev it; the body did buy ane, an' he 'ill be wantin' twa or three notes on the bargain; Milton's a fair scannal in the Glen,” and Hillocks's countenance, a near enough man in season himself, was full of scorn.
“A'm astonished at ye,” and Jamie eyed Hillocks with severity; “div ye no ken that Milton is the only man in the Glen that hes ony licht ava? he's sae releegious that a' never herd o' him daein' a dirty trick, but his conscience telt him. It 'ill cost five notes tae mak his duty plain.”
“If Milton disna gie back the beast at the roup price, in the circumstances-”
“Aye, aye, Drumsheugh,” said Hillocks encouragingly.
“Weel, he needna show his face in the Kil-drummie train, that's a'; ye have yir aucht complete noo, Hillocks, an' a 'll cast ma mind ower the implements in the sermon.”