More in sorrow than in anger Dam sighed and said but:--

"_Hoots_, Mon Sandy!"

"I'll go straight to y'r Grandfer the noo, and if ye'r not flayed
alive! Aye! I'll gang the noo to Himself----"

"_Wi' fower an twanty men, an' five an' thairrty pipers_," suggested
Dam in tuneful song.

Mr. Alastair Kenneth MacIlwraith did what he rarely did--swore
violently.

"_Do you think at your age it is right_?" quoted the wicked boy ...
the exceedingly bad and reprehensible boy.

The maddened gardener turned and strode to the house with all his
imperfections on his head and face and neck.

Taking no denial from Butterson, he forced his way into the presence
of his master and clamoured for instant retributive justice--or the
acceptance of his resignation forthwith, and him twanty-twa years in
the ane place.

"Grandfather," roused from slumber, gouty, liverish, ferociously
angry, sent for Dam, Sergeant Havlan, and Sergeant Havlan's cane.

"What's the meaning of this, Sir," he roared as Dam, cool, smiling,
friendly ever, entered the Sanctum. "What the Devil d'ye mean by it,