The next moment he clutched Macgregor’s arm. “Come in here, an’ I’ll tell ye.” He drew his companion into a close. “I—I couldna tell onybody else.”
From the somewhat incoherent recital which followed Macgregor finally gathered that the old woman to whom Willie owed money had presented her ultimatum. If Willie failed to pay up that night she would assuredly not fail to apply to his aunt first thing in the morning.
“Never heed, Wullie,” said Macgregor, taking his friend’s arm, and leading him homewards. “Yer aunt’ll no’ kill ye.”
“I wish to——she wud!” muttered Willie with a vehemence that shocked his friend. “She’s aye been ill to live wi’, but it’ll be a sight harder noo.”
“Wud the auld wife no’ believe ye aboot gettin’ a job in a fortnicht? She wudna? Aweell, she’ll believe me. Come on, an’ I’ll speak to her for ye.”
But the “auld wife” was adamant. She had been deceived with too many promises ere now. At last Macgregor, feeling himself beaten, disconsolately joined Willie and set out for home. Neither spoke until Macgregor’s abode was reached. Then Macgregor said:
“Bide here till I come back,” and ran up the stair. He knew his father was out, having gone back to the works to experiment with some new machinery. He found his mother alone in the kitchen.
“Mither,” he said with difficulty, “I wish ye wud gi’e me five shillin’s o’ ma money.”
He could not have startled her more thoroughly.
“Five shillin’s, laddie! What for?”