"Well," said Johnny slowly, fearing his sister's anger, "if ye get the baker and Tam Wylie for security. I'll be on the street for another half-hour." A figure, muffled in a greatcoat, was seen stealing off through the shadows. "God's curse on whoever that is," snarled Gourlay, "creeping up to listen to our talk!" "I don't think so," said Johnny; "it seemed a young chap trying to hide himself." Gourlay failed to get his securities. The baker, though a poor man, would have stood for him, if Tam Wylie would have joined; but Tam would not budge. He was as clean as gray granite, and as hard. So Gourlay trudged home through the darkness, beaten at last, mad with shame and anger and foreboding. The first thing he saw on entering the kitchen was his son--sitting muffled in his coat by the great fender. FOOTNOTES: [7] _Stot_, a bullock; _to stot_, to bound. CHAPTER XXV. Janet and her mother saw a quiver run through Gourlay as he stood and glowered from the threshold. He seemed of monstrous bulk and significance, filling the doorway in his silence. The quiver that went through him was a sign of his contending angers, his will struggling with the tumult of wrath that threatened to spoil his revenge. To fell that huddled oaf with a blow would be a poor return for all he had endured because of him. He meant to sweat punishment out of him drop by drop, with slow and vicious enjoyment. But the sudden sight of that living disgrace to the Gourlays woke a wild desire to leap on him at once and glut his rage--a madness which only a will like his could control. He quivered with the effort to keep it in.