Read Online The Maggie by James Dillon White - Free Book Online Page B

cover of the trees before the laird turned. Pusey recognised him now as the man who had stood impassively on Glasgow dock as the Skipper and the engineman had tricked him into this ridiculous adventure. He was impassive still, despite the exertion of leaping downhill over the heather and gorse, laden with a heavy shotgun and a pheasant. His feet made little noise on the springy turf, and it was only when he had reached the cover of the trees that the laird heard him crashing through the undergrowth.
    The laird came fearsomely back, peering into the woods, and fairly bristling with anger. ‘Come on out now. It’ll bebetter for you in the long run,’ but the mate had obviously joined up with the engineman, for their heavy progress through the woods, back to the canal, could be plainly heard.
    Now, obviously, was the time for Pusey to follow, but the laird was standing so close to his hiding place – only a few yards away – that he could not move without risking a burst of shotgun pellets. Besides, he was innocent!
    Before he could decide what to do he saw another movement up the hill. The bushes parted and the wee boy, carrying two more pheasants, came cautiously into view. Pusey held his breath, the laird turned, but the boy was down in the long grass in an instant. Infuriated by his helplessness the laird stalked away from Pusey along the edge of the wood, and immediately the boy started a spectacular dash for freedom.
    The open ground he had to cover was all downhill. The mate had crossed it in a matter of seconds although it had seemed much longer to Pusey. But the boy was severely handicapped. Two pheasants were almost as much as he could carry, his legs were shorter than the mate’s, and the laird, furiously angry, was now thoroughly aroused. Pusey watched in agony as the boy burst down the steep slope. He ran a few yards and then, just as the laird was turning, tripped forward into the heather. He picked himself up cautiously, but the laird had turned his back again. The boy ran on.
    He came into the copse like a small thunderbolt and ran straight into Pusey’s arms.
    He whispered hoarsely, ‘Mr Pusey! What are you . . . ?’
    Pusey said, ‘You’re to come back to the boat at once.’
    The boy looked fearfully over his shoulder. ‘Ssssh! He’ll hear us!’
    â€˜Did you hear what I said? The boat is returning to Ardrishaig at once!’
    They both turned, sensing danger, as the laird came cautiously into the woods. He was coming directly towards them but apparently had not seen them yet.
    The boy seized Pusey’s arm and tried to pull him into hiding behind a fallen tree trunk.
    Pusey protested, ‘Take your hands off . . .’
    â€˜Ssssh!’ the boy whispered urgently. ‘It’s the laird.’ Using all his force he dragged Pusey to his knees. ‘If we’re caught, it’s the jail for us!’
    Pusey said, ‘I don’t care if . . .’ He broke off, suddenly alarmed. Then with a show of confidence he added, ‘I’ll not be a party to illegal . . .’
    The laird was only thirty yards away now, and by descending more steeply than they had expected he had partially cut off their retreat.
    â€˜Here he comes,’ the boy said. ‘Get down!’
    â€˜But this is . . .’
    â€˜Get down ! If he catches us we’ll never get away at all.’ Pusey muttered, ‘This is absolutely ridiculous,’ but as he saw the laird’s red and angry face his false courage deserted him. He dropped beside the boy in the cover of the fallen trees.
    â€˜Come out! You can’t escape! Come out!’
    Pusey, with his face pressed to the earth, listened in amazement and horror.

Chapter Eleven
    Seldom in Pusey’s blameless life can a single half-hour have been so fraught with anguish. From the moment when he lay on the damp earth behind the tree trunk, with ants crawling over