They ca' me Heathercat.' 'I'm Jock Crozer,' said the boy.

And there was another pause, while each rolled a stone under his foot.
'Cast your jaiket and I'll fecht ye for a bawbee,' cried the elder boy with sudden violence, and dramatically throwing back his jacket.
'Na, I've nae time the now,' said Francie, with a sharp thrill of alarm, because Crozer was much the heavier boy.
'Ye're feared.

Heathercat indeed!' said Crozer, for among this infantile army of spies and messengers, the fame of Crozer had gone forth and was resented by his rivals.

And with that they separated.
On his way home Francie was a good deal occupied with the recollection of this untoward incident.

The challenge had been fairly offered and basely refused: the tale would be carried all over the country, and the lustre of the name of Heathercat be dimmed.