"Tak’ that," said his opponent, wiping his hand across his face. Spud promptly hit back, with the result that the table went up with a bang and all the dinners crashed to the floor. "Mak’ a ring! Mak’ a ring!" shouted the others, for Militiamen dearly love a scrap. In a few seconds this was done. Spud and his enemy off with their jackets, and soon the thud, thud, of blows, and an occasional grunt told of a deadly combat. If Spud was lean, he was wiry, and he had been reared in the school of self-help. He hopped round the old Die-hard like a bantam, and now and then slipped in a terrific blow on the elderly man’s corporation. "Go on the wee yin!" "Two to one bar one!" "Slip it across him!" "Whack his beer barrel!" were some of the rude but encouraging remarks. But all the pluck of Spud was useless against the great hulking form of "Dirty Dick," as his opponent was called. After a ten-minutes’ bout Dick gave out a terrible snipe which sent the brave Spud to the floor and caused the blood to spurt from his nose in a regular stream. That was the end of the combat. Willing hands tended the unconscious Spud, and on his recovery they hailed him as a fit and proper person for the Glesca Mileeshy. Dick, in a true sportsmanlike manner, shook hands and marched the whole crowd to the canteen. There the health of the gallant recruit was pledged with Highland honours, followed by the "Regimental" Anthem of the Glesca Mileeshy— "Beer, beer, glorious beer, Fill yourself right up to here; Don’t make a fool of it, But down with a pail of it, Glorious, glorious beer." This episode was duly reported to Tamson senior. That worthy rag-vender was well pleased—so pleased, in fact, that he got fu’ on the strength of it, and received a hammering from Mrs Tamson, who cracked the frying-pan over his head. In the Gallowgate, the Murder Close Brigade also hailed the news with pride. Spud was "one of the boys," and they determined to give him a public reception in a fried-fish shop when he returned. Meantime Spud was being initiated into the arts of the soldier. From the stores he had received a pair of wide, ill-fitting tartan breeks, resembling concertinas, a red jacket, which hung like a sack, a white belt, and a leatherbound Glengarry cap. A penny swagger cane and the inevitable "fag" completed the picture of Spud as a warrior bold. He also received a rifle and equipment. The rifle was an ancient affair, officially known as a "D.P." (Drill Purposes). A certain number of good rifles were allowed to each company for firing purposes. This arrangement, perhaps, saved the lives of many in the Depot of Blacktoon, for the Glesca Mileeshy at large resembled the Dervishes of the Khalifa.