Page 64 - the-thirty-nine-steps

Then I had an inspiration. ‘Does the new Surveyor know
you?’ I asked.
‘No him. He’s just been a week at the job. He rins about in
a wee motor-cawr, and wad speir the inside oot o’ a whelk.’
‘Where’s your house?’ I asked, and was directed by a wa-
vering finger to the cottage by the stream.
‘Well, back to your bed,’ I said, ‘and sleep in peace. I’ll
take on your job for a bit and see the Surveyor.’
He stared at me blankly; then, as the notion dawned on
his fuddled brain, his face broke into the vacant drunkard’s
smile.
‘You’re the billy,’ he cried. ‘It’ll be easy eneuch managed.
I’ve finished that bing o’ stanes, so you needna chap ony
mair this forenoon. just take the barry, and wheel eneuch
metal frae yon quarry doon the road to mak anither bing
the morn. My name’s Alexander Turnbull, and I’ve been
seeven year at the trade, and twenty afore that herdin’ on
Leithen Water. My freens ca’ me Ecky, and whiles Specky,
for I wear glesses, being waik i’ the sicht. just you speak the
Surveyor fair, and ca’ him Sir, and he’ll be fell pleased. I’ll
be back or mid-day.’ I borrowed his spectacles and filthy old
hat; stripped off coat, waistcoat, and collar, and gave him
them to carry home; borrowed, too, the foul stump of a clay
pipe as an extra property. He indicated my simple tasks, and
without more ado set off at an amble bedwards. Bed may
have been his chief object, but I think there was also some-
thing left in the foot of a bottle. I prayed that he might be
safe under cover before my friends arrived on the scene.
Then I set to work to dress for the part. I opened the col-

64 The Thirty-Nine Steps