reason. He raved and swore.

"Get oot o' my sicht," he cried, "or I'll shot ye like a tyke."

"Gang an' fess yer gun," said Malcolm, "an' gien ye fin' me waitin'
for ye, ye can lat at me."

The factor uttered a horrible imprecation on himself if he did not
make him pay dearly for his behaviour.

"Hoots, sir! Be asham't o' yersel'. Gang hame to the mistress, an'
I s' be up the morn's mornin' for my wages."

"If ye set foot on the grounds again, I'll set every dog in the
place upon you."

Malcolm laughed.

"Gien I was to turn the order the ither gait, wad they min' you or
me, div ye think, Maister Crathie?"

"Give me that key, and go about your business."

"Na, na, sir! What my lord gae me I s' keep--for a' the factors
atween this an' the Land's En'," returned Malcolm. "An' for lea'in'
the place, gien I be na in your service, Maister Crathie, I'm nae
un'er your orders. I'll gang whan it shuits me. An' mair yet, ye
s' gang oot o' this first, or I s' gar ye, an that ye'll see."

It was a violent proceeding, but for a matter of manners he was