Leslie. You shall hear. A week ago to-night, I was passing through this very room without a candle on my way to bed, when . . . what should I see, but a masked man fumbling at that window! How he did the Lord knows. I suspect, Procurator, it was not the first he’d tried . . . for he opened it as handily as his own front door.
Lawson. Preserve me! Another of thae robberies!
Leslie. That’s it. And, of course, I tried to seize him. But the rascal was too quick. He was down and away in an instant. You never saw a thing so daring and adroit.
Lawson. Is that a’? Ye’re a bauld lad, I’ll say that for ye. I’m glad it wasna waur.
Leslie. Yes, that’s all plain sailing. But here’s the hitch. Why didn’t I tell the Procurator-Fiscal? You never thought of that.
Lawson. No, man. Why?
Leslie. Aha! There’s the riddle. Will you guess? No? . . . I thought I knew the man.
Lawson. What d’ye say?
Leslie. I thought I knew him.
Lawson. Wha was’t?