“I'm all that,” he replied, with a laugh, and all the time Murchison, the mate, sat mopping his greasy face with a rag, as one after hard work, and looked on us with wonder at what we meant. “I'm all that,” he replied, “the hair aff the mole and the horse-hair on your creased breeches wad hae tauld ony ane that ye had ridden in a hurry and clipped in a fricht o' discovery.” “Oh, oh!” I cried, “and that's what goes to the makin' o' a Mahoun!” “Jist that,” said he, throwing himself on a seat with an easy indifference meant to conceal his vanity. “Jist observation and a knack o' puttin' twa and twa thegether. Did ye think the skipper o' the _Seven Sisters_ was fleein' over Scotland at the tail o' your horse?” “The Greig mole's weel kent, surely,” said I, astonished and chagrined. “I jalouse it's notorious through my Uncle Andy?” Risk laughed at that. “Oh, ay!” said he, “when Andy Greig girned at ye it was ill to miss seein' his mole. Man, ye might as well wear your name on the front o' your hat as gae aboot wi' a mole like that--and--and that pair o' shoes.” The blood ran to my face at this further revelation of his astuteness. It seemed, then, I carried my identity head and foot, and it was no wonder a halfeyed man like Risk should so easily discover me. I looked down at my feet, and sure enough, when I thought of it now, it would have been a stupid man who, having seen these kenspeckle shoes once, would ever forget them. “My uncle seems to have given me good introductions,” said I. “They struck mysel' as rather dandy for a ship,” broke in the mate, at last coming on something he could understand. “And did _you_ know Andy Greig, too?” said I. “Andy Greig,” he replied. “Not me!” “Then, by God, ye hinna sailed muckle aboot the warld!” said the skipper. “I hae seen thae shoes in the four quarters and aye in a good companionship.” “They appear yet to retain that virtue,” said I, unable to resist the irony. “And, by the way, Captain Risk, now that we have discussed the shoes and my mole, what have we been waiting for at Blackness?” His face grew black with annoyance. “What's that to you?” he cried. “Oh, I don't know,” I answered indifferently. “I thought that now ye had got the best part o' your passage money ye might hae been thinking to do something for your country again. They tell me it's a jail in there, and it might suggest itself to you as providing a good opportunity for getting rid of a very indifferent purser.”