There was nothing else for a chap to say, the Union wouldn’t move a foot in the business, it was crammed with Broo folk to the lid already; and the stour died down; and the gleyed Stores mucker who had sneered afore at Ewan as gentry said What do you think of your toff sod now? and you said He’d the guts to try something, anyhow, more than a sheep like you ever would.

Then Norman came round in the dinner hour with a funny like story you could hardly believe, he said that Ewan’d ta’en up with the Reds, Jim Trease and his crowd, and was going to their meetings. And you said Away, he’s not so daft, and Norman said Ay, hell, but he is. What’s the use of the Reds to any body? They just get out the Broo men and march down the Mile and get their heads bashed in in the end. Well, surely Ewan knew that as well; why was he taking up with them, then? Norman said he was damned if he knew, some rubbish about all working parties co-operating, Ewan had asked him to go to a meeting but he’d said he wouldn’t, he wasn’t so soft, he’d a quean to take out on a Sunday, him, not mess about with a lot of Reds who were just damned traitors to the Labour Movement. Not that it was worth a faeces either. As for Alick, he’d gone skite, same as Ewan, anything Ewan said went down with him.

Well, hell, that was coarse enough to hear, but whatever made Ewan take up with the Reds? Him a gentleman, too, as you all knew he was though he tried to deny it and that time at your home when he came to tea had acted so fine, you’d all of you liked him, it had been nearly worth spending the day before scrubbing out the place, and hiding the twin, the daftie, and getting in cakes for the tea. So you went now and looked him up in the office, making on you wanted a chit for some tools, he was sitting at his desk among the office muckers, all with their patted hair and posh ties, young college sods no better than you though they tried on their airs if you didn’t watch.

Ewan cried Hello, Bob! and you said Hello, and Ewan, I’d like to speak to you sometime. And he said Right, let’s get out a minute, and out he came and you asked him point-blank. And he said I didn’t know you’d be interested, and you said Hell, I’m not, and he said Yes, you are. Look here, come along to the Saturday meeting, in the Gallowgate, 3 Pitcarles Wynd. And afore you well kenned what it was you had done you’d promised to be there—oh, sod the whole business!