"Ye are a reid-heided Irish traitor!" said the butcher's boy with emphasis.
"It's my faither that's reid-heided," said Cleg promptly; "but tak' that ony way for speaking ill o' the family!"
And with the back of his hand he knocked the libeller of his forbears over into the field.
"I'm gaun to be captain o' a band o' robbers—will ye baith join?" said Tam Luke.
Cleaver's boy was about to wreak his vengeance on Cleg from the other side of the fence, but he paused with his arm suspended to think over the proposal.
"I'm gaun to be captain o' a band mysel'! Will ye join?" said the butcher's boy to Cleg, instead of assaulting him as he had first intended.
"What to do?" asked practical Cleg.
"To fecht the poliss, of course!" cried the butcher's boy and the baker's boy together. Their unanimity was wonderful.
"There's the sergeant the noo!" said Cleg quietly, pointing across the road.
And it was indeed the sergeant, who, having been on night duty, had just risen and strolled out to see what kind of weather it was.