Whaur is he?"
"Gin ye ken sae muckle aboot him already, ye can jist fin' him to
yersel'!"
"The bick's oot!" panted Linkum.
But Mary shut the door.
"Here's a job!" said Linkum to himself. "I canna gang throu a steekit
door. And there's Juno wi' the rin o' the haill toun. Deil tak her!"
But at the moment he heard Alec whistling a favourite tune, as he
shovelled away at the snow.
"General!" cried Linkum, in ecstasy.
"Here!" answered Alec, flinging his spade twenty feet from him, and
bolting in the direction of the call. "Is't you, Linkum?"
"She's oot, General."
"Deil hae her, gin ever she wins in again, the curst worryin' brute!
Did ye gang to Curly?"
"Ay did I. He fired the gun, and brunt three blue lichts, and waited
seven minutes and a half; and syne he sent me for ye, General."
"_Con_foon' 't," cried Alec, and tore through shrubbery and hedge, the
nearest way to the road, followed by Linkum, who even at full speed was
not a match for Alec. Away they flew like the wind, along the
well-beaten path to the town, over the footbridge that crossed the
Glamour, and full speed up the hill to Willie Macwha, who, with a dozen
or fifteen more, was anxiously waiting for the commander.
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