"Well, what about him?" asked Mrs Forbes, considerably bewildered, but
not fearing bad news from the mouth of such a messenger.
"Hae ye heard naething aboot him, mem?"
"Nothing particular. I haven't heard from him for a fortnight."
"That's easy accoontit for, mem."
"What do you mean, my dear? Speak out."
"Weel, mem, the way I heard it was raither particlar, and I wadna like
a'body to ken."
Here she glanced again at Annie.
"You needn't be afraid of Annie Anderson," said Mrs Forbes smiling.
"What is it?"
"Weel, mem, I didna richtly ken. But they hae ta'en him intil a
dreidfu' place, and whether they hae left a haill inch o' skin upon's
body, is mair nor I can tell; but they hae rackit him, and pu'd o' 's
nails aff, maybe them a', and???-"
"Good heavens!" exclaimed Mrs Forbes, with a most unusual inclination
to hysterics, seeing something terrible peep from behind the grotesque
report of Isie, "what _do_ you mean, child?"
"I'm tellin' ye't as I heard it, mem. I houp they haena brunt him yet.
Ye maun gang and tak' him oot o' their han's."
"Whose hands, child? Who's doing all this to him?"
"They stan' aboot the corners o' the streets, mem, in muckle toons, and
they catch a haud o' young laads, and they trail them awa' wi' them,
and they jist torment the life oot o' them.
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