“Ay,” came the answer, “what do ye want?” as he came to a halt.

“Just a meenit,” said Geordie, placing himself in front of Walker, barring his way.  “I want to warm yer dirty hide.  It ought to have been done years ago, but I never kent till the nicht, and I’m gaun to dae it the noo,” and the tones of his voice indicated that he meant what he said.

“Oh!  What’s wrang?” asked Walker in affected surprise.  “I’ll get ye a place,” he went on hurriedly, “just as soon as I can—­in fac’ there’s yin that’ll be ready by the morn.”

“I’m no gi’ein’ a damn for yer place.  It’s you I’m efter the nicht.  Come on, face up,” and Sinclair squared himself for battle.

Thus challenged, Walker, who was like all bullies a coward at heart, tried to temporize, but Sinclair was in no mood for delay.

“Come on, pit them up, or I’ll break yer jaw for you,” he said threateningly.

“Man, Geordie, what ails ye the nicht?” asked Walker in hurried alarm, wondering wildly how he could stave off the chastisement which he knew from Geordie’s voice he might expect.  “Talk sensibly, man.  Try an’ ha’e some sense.  What’s the matter wi’ ye?”

“Matter,” echoed Geordie, “jist this.  The wife has jist telt me a’ aboot the nicht ye cam’ chappin’ to the door when I was lyin’ hurt.  She kent I’d break yer neck for it, and she was feart to tell me.  So put up yer fists, ye black-hearted brute that ye are.  I’m gaun to gi’e ye what we should hae gotten seven years syne, an’ it’ll maybe put ye frae preyin’ on decent women.  Come on.”

“Awa’, man, Geordie, an’ behave yersel’,” began Walker, trying to evade him.

“Tak’ that, then, ye dirty brute!” and Geordie smashed his fist straight between Walker’s eyes.

Roused at last, Walker showed fight and swung at Sinclair.  He was the younger man by about two years, and had not had the hard work and bad conditions of the other, but Sinclair was a strong man, and was now roused to a great pitch, so he struck out with terrific force.  Then the two closed and swayed about, struggling, cursing and punching each other with brutal might.  Sinclair’s extra weight and more powerful build soon began to tell, and he was able to send home one or two heavy blows on Black Jock’s face and body.  Panting and blowing, they separated, and as they did so, Sinclair caught his opponent a straight hard crash on the jaw that sent him rolling to the muddy road, and feeling as if a thousand fists had struck him all at once.

Walker lay for a short time, then gathering himself together, he rose to his feet and set off at a quick pace in the direction of his house, whilst Geordie, too, turned homewards, feeling that it was useless to follow him.

Mrs. Sinclair did not hear what had happened till a week later, when Geordie, being in a communicative mood, told her of the affair in simple, unaffected terms.