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Updated: May 18, 2025
"I misdoot yo'll iver see your dog agin, mister," Sam'l repeated, as if he was supplying the key to the mystery. "Noo, Sam'l, if yo' know owt tell it," ordered his master. Sam'l grunted sulkily. "Wheer's oor Bob, then?" he asked. At that M'Adam turned on the Master. "'Tis that, nae doot. It's yer gray dog, James Moore, yer dog. I might ha' kent it," and he loosed off a volley of foul words.
From 1818 to 1829, there were built in England and Wales, 1,000 English miles of roadway of the width prescribed by law, 60 feet, and nearly all the old roads were reconstructed on the new system of M'Adam.
Whether it was this remark of Tammas's which stung the big man into action, or whether it was that the intensity of his hate gave him unusual courage, anyhow, a few days later, M'Adam caught him lurking in the granary of the Grange.
"Curse ye!" cried M'Adam, starting back. "Ye devil, let me alone!" Then turning fiercely on the drover, "Yours, mister?" he asked. The man nodded. "Then call him aff, can't ye? D n ye!" At which Teddy Bolstock withdrew, sniggering; and Jim Mason slung the post-bags on to his shoulder and plunged out into the rain, the faithful Betsy following, disconsolate.
"Keep silence and sit down, Mr. M'Adam! D'you hear me, sir? If I have to speak to you again it will be to order you to leave the room." The little man obeyed, sullen and vengeful, like a beaten cat. The Master concluded his speech by calling on all present to give three cheers for the squire, her ladyship, and the young ladies. The call was responded to enthusiastically, every man standing.
The little man tilted back his chair, and raised his head. It was the old M'Adam who looked up. The thin lips were curled; a grin was crawling across the mocking face; and he wagged his head gently, as he looked at the speaker through the slits of his half-closed eyes. "Mr. Hornbut, I believe ye thocht me in earnest, 'deed and I do!" He leaned back in his chair and laughed softly.
"Yes; and now three cheers for Mr. M'Adam and his Red Wull! Hip! hip " "Hooray!" A little knowt of stalwarts at the back James Moore, Parson Leggy, Jim Mason, and you may be sure in heart, at least, Owd Bob responded to the call right lustily. The crowd joined in; and, once off, cheered and cheered again. "Three cheers more for Mr. M'Adam!" But the little man waved to them.
He spun round like a monstrous teetotum; he banged his tortured head against the wall; he burrowed into the unyielding floor. And all the while M'Adam pattered after him, laying hands upon him only to be flung aside as a terrier flings a rat.
"Then why don't yo' go and tell him so, yo' muckle liar?" roared Tammas at last, enraged to madness. "I will!" said M'Adam. And he did. It was on the day preceding the great summer sheep fair at Grammoch-town that he fulfilled his vow. That is always a big field-day at Kenmuir; and on this occasion James Moore and Owd Bob had been up and working on the Pike from the rising of the sun.
He walked up to M'Adam, who still lay gasping on the ground. The shock of the fall and recoil of the weapon had knocked the breath out of the little man's body; beyond that he was barely hurt. The Master stood over his fallen enemy and looked sternly down at him. "I've put up wi' more from you, M'Adam, than I would from ony other man," he said.
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