“What think ye o’ the fecht noo, Tam?” enquired Matthew Maitland one night as they sat among the others at the “Lazy Corner,” as the village forum was called.

“I dinna ken what to think o’ it,” replied Tam glumly.  “Do ye think there’s any truth in that story aboot Smillie havin’ sell’t us?”

“It wad be hard to ken,” replied Matthew Maitland, taking his pipe out of his mouth and spitting savagely upon the ground.  “But I heard it for a fact, and that a guid wheen o’ men doon the country hae gaen back to their work through it.  An’ yet, mind ye, Smillie seemed to me to be a straight-forret man an’ yin that was sincere.  Still, ye can never tell; an’ twa-three hunner pound’s a big temptation to a man.”

“Ay,” said Tam dryly, “we hae been diddled sae often wi’ bigmoothed men on the make, that it mak’s a body ay suspicious when yin hears thae stories.  I heard Wiston, the coal-maister, had gien him five hunner pounds on the quiet.”

“I heard that too,” replied Matthew, “but, like you, I’m loth to think it o’ Smillie.  I’d believe it quicker aboot yon ither chiel, Charlie Rogerson.  He comes oot to speak to us ay dressed in a black dress-suit, wi’ white cuffs doon to his finger nebs, his gold ring, his lum hat, an’ a’ his fal-de-lals.”

“Weel, I dinna believe a word o’ this story aboot Bob,” said Robert quietly, who had “hunkered” down beside the two men who sat so earnestly discussing matters while the others went on with their games and dancing.

“Do ye no’, Rob?” said Tam.

“No, I do not,” was the firm reply, “for nae matter what happens in a fight, it’s ay the opeenion o’ some folk that the men ha’e been sell’t.”

Robert, though young, took a keen interest in the fight.  While other lads of his age looked upon it as a fine holiday, the heavy responsibilities he had to face gave him a different outlook, and so the men seemed to recognize that he was different from the other boys, and more sober in his view-point.

“This story is set aboot for the purpose o’ breakin’ oup the men,” he continued.  “We hear o’ Smillie haein hale rows o’ cottages bought, an’ a lot ither rubbish, but I wouldna believe it.  It’s a’ to get the men to gang back to their work; an’ if they do that, it’ll no’ only break the strike, but it’ll break up the union, an’ that’s what’s wanted mair than anything else.  I’ve heard Smillie an’ my faither talkin’ aboot a’ thae things lang syne, an’ Smillie says that’s what the stories are set aboot for.  We should ha’e sense enough no’ to heed them, for I dinna think Smillie has sell’t us at a’.”

There was a fine, firm ring in the boy’s voice as he spoke which moved the two older men, and made them feel a little ashamed that they had been so ready to doubt.

“Ah, weel, Rob,” said Tam, “maybe you are richt, but a lot o’ men ha’e gaen back to their work already, an’ it’ll break up the strike if it spreads.  But we’ll ha’e to get some tatties in the nicht; the polisman’s goin’ to be watchin’ auld Burnfoot’s hen-hoose, sae it’ll be a grand chance for some tatties,” and the talk drifted on to another subject.