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"
Well
,
back
to
your
bed
,
"
I
said
,
"
and
sleep
in
peace
.
I
'll
take
on
your
job
for
a
bit
and
see
the
Surveyor
.
"
He
stared
at
me
blankly
;
then
,
as
the
notion
dawned
on
his
fuddled
brain
,
his
face
broke
into
the
vacant
drunkard
's
smile
.
"
You
're
the
billy
,
"
he
cried
.
"
It
'll
be
easy
eneuch
managed
.
I
've
finished
that
bing
o
'
stanes
,
so
you
needna
chap
ony
mair
this
forenoon
.
Just
take
the
barry
,
and
wheel
eneuch
metal
frae
yon
quarry
doon
the
road
to
mak
anither
bing
the
morn
.
My
name
's
Alexander
Trummle
,
and
I
've
been
seeven
year
at
the
trade
,
and
twenty
afore
that
herdin
'
on
Leithen
Water
.
My
freens
ca
'
me
Ecky
,
and
whiles
Specky
,
for
I
wear
glesses
,
being
waik
i
'
the
sicht
.
Just
you
speak
the
Surveyor
fair
,
and
ca
'
him
Sir
,
and
he
'll
be
fell
pleased
.
I
'll
be
back
or
midday
.
"
I
borrowed
his
spectacles
and
filthy
old
hat
;
stripped
off
coat
,
waistcoat
,
and
collar
,
and
gave
him
them
to
carry
home
;
borrowed
,
too
,
the
foul
stump
of
a
clay
pipe
as
an
extra
property
.
He
indicated
my
simple
tasks
,
and
without
more
ado
set
off
at
an
amble
bedwards
.
Bed
may
have
been
his
chief
object
,
but
I
think
there
was
also
something
left
in
the
foot
of
a
bottle
.
I
prayed
that
he
might
be
safe
under
cover
before
my
friends
arrived
on
the
scene
.
Then
I
set
to
work
to
dress
for
the
part
.
I
opened
the
collar
of
my
shirt
--
it
was
a
vulgar
blue-and-white
check
such
as
ploughmen
wear
--
and
revealed
a
neck
as
brown
as
any
tinker
's
.
I
rolled
up
my
sleeves
,
and
there
was
a
forearm
which
might
have
been
a
blacksmith
's
,
sunburnt
and
rough
with
old
scars
.
I
got
my
boots
and
trouser-legs
all
white
from
the
dust
of
the
road
,
and
hitched
up
my
trousers
,
tying
them
with
string
below
the
knee
.
Then
I
set
to
work
on
my
face
.
With
a
handful
of
dust
I
made
a
water-mark
round
my
neck
,
the
place
where
Mr
Turnbull
's
Sunday
ablutions
might
be
expected
to
stop
.
I
rubbed
a
good
deal
of
dirt
also
into
the
sunburn
of
my
cheeks
.
A
roadman
's
eyes
would
no
doubt
be
a
little
inflamed
,
so
I
contrived
to
get
some
dust
in
both
of
mine
,
and
by
dint
of
vigorous
rubbing
produced
a
bleary
effect
.
The
sandwiches
Sir
Harry
had
given
me
had
gone
off
with
my
coat
,
but
the
roadman
's
lunch
,
tied
up
in
a
red
handkerchief
,
was
at
my
disposal
.
I
ate
with
great
relish
several
of
the
thick
slabs
of
scone
and
cheese
and
drank
a
little
of
the
cold
tea
.
In
the
handkerchief
was
a
local
paper
tied
with
string
and
addressed
to
Mr
Turnbull
--
obviously
meant
to
solace
his
midday
leisure
.
I
did
up
the
bundle
again
,
and
put
the
paper
conspicuously
beside
it
.
My
boots
did
not
satisfy
me
,
but
by
dint
of
kicking
among
the
stones
I
reduced
them
to
the
granite-like
surface
which
marks
a
roadman
's
footgear
.
Then
I
bit
and
scraped
my
finger-nails
till
the
edges
were
all
cracked
and
uneven
.
The
men
I
was
matched
against
would
miss
no
detail
.
I
broke
one
of
the
bootlaces
and
retied
it
in
a
clumsy
knot
,
and
loosed
the
other
so
that
my
thick
grey
socks
bulged
over
the
uppers
.
Still
no
sign
of
anything
on
the
road
.
The
motor
I
had
observed
half
an
hour
ago
must
have
gone
home
.
My
toilet
complete
,
I
took
up
the
barrow
and
began
my
journeys
to
and
from
the
quarry
a
hundred
yards
off
.
