Vitals, says you! And where would I be with my blunderbush ?" he snarled.
"Powder and your auld hands are but as the snail to the swallow against the bright steel in the hands of Alan," said the other.

"Before your jottering finger could find the trigger, the hilt would dirl on your breast-bane." "Eh, man, whae's denying it ?" said my uncle.

"Pit it as ye please, hae't your ain way; I'll do naething to cross ye.

Just tell me what like ye'll be wanting, and ye'll see that we'll can agree fine." "Troth, sir," said Alan, "I ask for nothing but plain dealing.

In two words: do ye want the lad killed or kept ?" "O, sirs!" cried Ebenezer.