“Brayvo! well done, Scotty!” burst from the company, whose courage quickly revived when they found that no one there was “wanted.”
The policemen laughed and went out.
“Noo, freen’s, I want to say a word,” said David, rising. “I’m gaun awa’, an’ it’s ower late t’ mak’ a speech the nicht, but I want t’ ask leave t’ come back here again an’ hae a crack wi’ ye. I want t’ ask ’ee some questions, an’ gie ye some guid advice. May I come?”
“Of course you may, Scotty,” said the landlord, grasping David’s hand and receiving a good-humoured squeeze that made him wince. “You’re a trump, and we’ll give you the freedom of the ’ouse. Won’t we, pals?”
“Agreed, agreed,” shouted the whole company; “and we’ve got two Trumps now!” added a wag, amid much laughter and staves of, “He’s a jolly good fellow,” during the singing of which Laidlaw and his friend took their departure.
Having marked the position of the den well and taken its bearings they said good-night cordially and separated, the thief to his lair, and the Scotsman to his lodging, where he fully expected that the “villain” Tandy Spivin had availed himself of the opportunity to rob him.
But he was wrong. He found his bag, with his watch and money and his little all, intact as he had left it.