"Maybe auld McCunn wouldn't get through the coal-hole." "You're an impident laddie," said the outraged Dickson.

"It's no' likely we're coming with you.

Breaking into other folks' houses! It's a job for the police!" "Please yersel'," said the Chieftain, and looked at Heritage.
"I'm on," said that gentleman.
"Well, just you set out the morn as if ye were for a walk up the Garple glen.

I'll be on the road and I'll have orders for ye." Without more ado Dougal left by way of the back kitchen.

There was a brief denunciation from Mrs.Morran, then the outer door banged and he was gone.
The Poet sat still with his head in his hands, while Dickson, acutely uneasy, prowled about the floor.