‘I’ll rouse ye, ye scamp!’ roared the other. ‘Whaur’s [111] ]my ram—my “Duke,” I say? D’ye think that I dinna ken a coo frae a cuddy; an’ that I’m to be imposed on wi’ a blasted auld cull in place o’ the “Duke o’ Silversheen” that I ped 700 guineas guid cash for? D’ye imagine I’m daft, ye coach-drivin’ fule, ye? If ye dinna confess wha’s led ye astray, I’ll give ye in chairge this vera meenit. I’ll let ye ken that I’m Jock M‘Pherson o’ Palkara; an’ I’m goin’ to mak’ it het for ye for this wee jobbie!’
This tirade effectually awakened the driver, and said he, with an earnestness there was no mistaking,—
‘By G—d, Mr M‘Pherson, I’m on the square. I never took much notice o’ the ram at the railway. It was dusk, too, when the agent put him in. I seen him two or three times along the road, an’ thought he looked fust class. Nobody could ha’ touched him without me knowin’ of it. But, at the best o’ times, I can’t tell one sheep from t’other, never havin’ had any truck with ’em.
Anyhow, if there’s cross work ’bout this un, all I can say is, as I ain’t in it: An’ now you can send for the traps if you likes.’
The man’s manner carried conviction with it, and for a few minutes M‘Pherson was silent.
At last he said,—
‘Come awa’, some o’ ye, an’ catch the creature till I have a look at him.’
But when caught, nothing was ascertainable beyond the one patent fact that he was a broken-mouthed, miserable old cull, who ought to have gone to market as a wether years ago. Earmarks, out of their own district, [112] ]are of precious little use as a means of identification now-a-days.
It will be noticed that Jack forgot all about his twenty minutes’ stay and chat with the cook in Tara kitchen. The coach had been very much overdue.
‘Surely you’re not going to take the thing home, Mac?’ said his friend, as the former lugged the ‘Duke’s’ locum tenens towards the buggy. ‘He’s only fit to have his throat cut.’