trifle mixed," said the Provost in grave reproof, when he went
round to the back to see Wilson on a matter of business. But "Tut,"
cried Mrs. Wilson, as she threw down a plank, to make a path for him
across a dub--"Tut," she laughed, "the clartier the cosier!" And it was
as true as she said it. The thing went forward splendidly in spite of
its confusion.

Though trade was brisker in Barbie than it had ever been before, Wilson
had already done injury to Gourlay's business as general conveyor. But,
hitherto, he had not infringed on the gurly one's other monopolies. His
chance came at last.

He appeared on a market-day in front of the Red Lion, a piece of pinky
brown paper in his hand. That was the first telegram ever seen in
Barbie, and it had been brought by special messenger from Skeighan. It
was short and to the point. It ran: "Will buy 300 stone cheese 8
shillings stone[5] delivery at once," and was signed by a merchant in
Poltandie.

Gourlay was talking to old Tarmillan of Irrendavie, when Wilson pushed
in and addressed Tarmillan, without a glance at the grain-merchant.

"Have you a kane o' cheese to sell, Irrendavie?" was his blithe
salutation.

"I have," said Irrendavie, and he eyed him suspiciously. For what was
Wilson speiring for? _He_ wasna a cheese-merchant.

"How much the stane are ye seeking for't?" said Wilson.

"I have just been asking Mr. Gourlay here for seven-and-six," said
Irrendavie, "but he winna rise a penny on the seven!"

"_I_'ll gi'e ye seven-and-six," said Wilson, and slapped his long thin
flexible bank-book far too ostentatiously against the knuckles of his
left hand.

"But--but," stammered Irrendavie, suspicious still, but melting at the
offer, "_you_ have no means of storing cheese."

"Oh," said Wilson, getting in a fine one at Gourlay, "there's no
drawback in that! The ways o' business have changed greatly since steam
came close to our doors. It's nothing but vanity nowadays when a country
merchant wastes money on a ramshackle of buildings for storing--there's
no need for that if he only had brains to develop quick deliveries. Some
folk, no doubt, like to build monuments to their own pride, but I'm not
one of that kind; there's not enough sense in that to satisfy a man like
me. My offer doesna hold, you understand, unless you deliver the cheese
at Skeighan Station. Do you accept the condition?"

"Oh yes," said Irrendavie, "I'm willing to agree to that."

"C'way into the Red L