He was a small, fat man, fussy at any time, and perpetually perspiring. Now his face was crimson with rage and running; he gesticulated wildly; vague words bubbled forth, as his short legs twinkled down the slope. The crowd paused to admire. Some one shouted a witticism, and the crowd laughed. For the moment the situation was saved. The fat secretary hurried on down the slope, unheeding of any insult but the one. He bounced over the plank-bridge: and as he came closer, M'Adam saw that in each hand brandished a brick. “Hoots, man! dinna throw!” he cried, making a feint as though to turn in sudden terror. “What's this? What's this?” gasped the secretary, waving his arms. “Bricks, 'twad seem,” the other answered, staying his flight. The secretary puffed up like a pudding in a hurry. “Where's the Cup? Champion, Challenge, etc.,” he jerked out. “Mind, sir, you're responsible! wholly responsible! Dents, damages, delays! What's it all mean, sir? These--these monstrous creations “--he brandished the bricks, and M'Adam started back--“wrapped, as I live, in straw, sir, in the Cup case, sir! the Cup case! No Cup! Infamous! Disgraceful! Insult me--meeting--committee--every one! What's it mean, sir?” He paused to pant, his body filling and emptying like a bladder. M'Adam approached him with one eye on the crowd, which was heaving forward again, threatening still, but sullen and silent. “I pit 'em there,” he whispered; and drew back to watch the effect of his disclosure. The secretary gasped. “You--you not only do this--amazing thing--these monstrosities”--he hurled the bricks furiously on the unoffending ground--“but you dare to tell me so!” The little man smiled. “'Do wrang and conceal it, do right and confess it,' that's Englishmen's motto, and mine, as a rule; but this time I had ma reasons.” “Reasons, sir! No reasons can justify such an extraordinary breach of all the--the decencies. Reasons? the reasons of a maniac. Not to say more, sir. Fraudulent detention--fraudulent, I say, sir! What were your precious reasons?” The mob with Tammas and Long Kirby at their head had now well nigh reached the plank-bridge. They still looked dangerous, and there were isolated cries of: “Duck him!” “Chuck him in!” “An' the dog!” “Wi' one o' they bricks about their necks!” “There are my reasons!” said M'Adam, pointing to the forest of menacing faces. “Ye see I'm no beloved amang yonder gentlemen, and”--in a stage whisper in the other's ear--“I thocht maybe I'd be 'tacked on the road.” Tammas foremost of the crowd, had now his foot upon the first plank. “Ye robber! ye thief! Wait till we set hands on ye, you and yer gorilla!” he called. M'Adam half turned. “Wullie,” he said quietly, “keep the bridge.”