job, for it's Sunday, and in these parts people go to sleep till
Monday mornin'."

"That's just what I'm trying to get at," said Dickson. "By all
means go to the Chief Constable, and tell him it's life or death.
My lawyer in Glasgow, Mr. Caw, will have been stirring him up
yesterday, and you two should complete the job...But what I'm feared
is that he'll not be in time. As you say, it's the Sabbath day,
and the police are terrible slow. Now any moment that brig may be
here, and the trouble will start. I'm wanting to save the Princess,
but I'm wanting too to give these blagyirds the roughest handling
they ever got in their lives. Therefore I say there's no time to lose.
We're far ower few to put up a fight, and we want every man you've
got about this place to hold the fort till the police come."

Sir Archibald looked upon the earnest flushed face of Dickson
with admiration. "I'm blessed if you're not the most whole-hearted
brigand I've ever struck."

"I'm not. I'm just a business man."

"Do you realize that you're levying a private war and breaking
every law of the land?"

"Hoots!" said Dickson. "I don't care a docken about the law.
I'm for seeing this job through. What force can you produce?"

"Only cripples, I'm afraid. There's Sime, my butler. He was a
Fusilier Jock and, as you saw, has lost an arm. Then McGuffog the
keeper is a good man, but he's still got a Turkish bullet in his thigh.