'Wudna be worth his while,' said his friend, carelessly.

'I challenge ye to repeat it.'

The tone of the words caused Macgregor to stare, but he said calmly
enough: 'Either ye was a leear the nicht ye enlisted, or ye're a
leear noo. Ye can tak' yer choice.'

'An' you can tak' aff yer coat!'

'I dinna need to undress for to gi'e ye a hammerin', if that's what
ye're efter. But I'm no gaun to dae it here. We'd baith get into
trouble.'

'Ye're henny,' said Willie.

Macgregor was more puzzled than angry. Here was Willie positively
asking for a punching in public!

'What's wrang wi' ye, Wullie?' he asked in a lowered voice. 'Wait
till we get oor next leave. The chaps here'll jist laugh at ye.'

'It'll maybe be you they'll laugh at. Come on, ye cooard!'

By this time the other fellows had become interested, and one of
them, commonly called Jake, the oldest in the billet, came forward.

'What's up, Grocer?' he inquired of Macgregor, who had early earned
his nickname thanks to Uncle Purdie's frequent consignments of
dainties, which were greatly appreciated by all in the billet.