scowled.

'Will ye enlist?'

'I'll see ye damp first!'

'Come on, then!' Macgregor spat lightly On his palms. 'I've nae
time to waste.'

Willie cast his jacket on the ground. 'I'll wrastle ye,' he said,
with a gleam of hope.

'Thenk ye; but I'm no for dirtyin' ma guid claes. Come on!'

To Willie's credit, let it be recorded, he did come on, and so
promptly that Macgregor, scarcely prepared, had to take a light tap
on the chin. A brief display of thoroughly unscientific boxing
ensued, and then Macgregor got home between the eyes. Willie,
tripping over his own jacket, dropped to earth.

'I wasna ready that time,' he grumbled, sitting up.

Macgregor seized his hand and dragged him to his feet, with the
encouraging remark, 'Ye'll be readier next time.'

In the course of the second round Willie achieved a smart clip on
his opponent's ear, but next moment he received, as it seemed, an
express train on the point of his nose, and straightway sat down in
agony.