He's a Namerican, which looks bad.

And there's two-three tinklers campin' down in the Garple Dean.

They're in it, for Dobson was colloguin' wi' them a' mornin'.
When I seen ye, I thought ye were more o' the gang, till I mindit that one o' ye was auld McCunn that has the shop in Mearns Street.

I seen that ye didna' like the look o' Lean, and I followed ye here, for I was thinkin' I needit help." Heritage plucked Dougal by the shoulder and lifted him to his feet.
"For God's sake, boy," he cried, "tell us what you know!" "Will ye help ?" "Of course, you little fool." "Then swear," said the ritualist.

From a grimy wallet he extracted a limp little volume which proved to be a damaged copy of a work entitled Sacred Songs and Solos.