Between You and Me | Page 8

I did aboot puir Jock. Jock coul no stand it to
have anyone else applauded, or to see them getting attention he craved
for himself. He could no sing, but he was a great story teller. Had he
just said, out and out, that he was making up tales, 'twould have been
all richt enough. But, no--Jock must pretend he'd been everywhere he
told about, and that he'd been an actor in every yarn he spun. He was a
great boaster, too--he'd tell us, without a blush, of the most desperate
things he'd done, and of how brave he'd been. He was the bravest man
alive, to hear him tell it.
They were askin' me to sing one day, and I was ready to oblige, when
Jock started.
"Bide a wee, Harry, man," he said, "while I'll be tellin' ye of a thing that
happened to me on the veldt in America once."

"The veldt's in South Africa, Jock," someone said, slyly.
"No, no--it's the Rocky Mountains you're meaning. They're in South
Africa--I climbed three of them there in a day, once. Weel, I was going
to tell ye of this time when we were hunting gold----"
And he went on, to spin a yarn that would have made Ananias himself
blush. When he was done it was time to gang back to work, and my
song not sung! I'd a new chorus I was wanting them to hear, too, and I
was angry with puir Jock--more shame to me! And so I resolved to see
if he was as brave as he was always saying. I'm ashamed of this, mind
ye-- I'm admitting it.
So, next day, at piece time, I didn't join the crowd that went to the auld
cabin. Instead I did without my bread and cheese and my cold tea-- and,
man, I'm tellin' ye it means a lot for Harry to forego his victuals!--and
went quickly along to the face where Jock was working. It happened
that he was at work there alone that day, so I was able to make my
plans against his coming back, and be sure it wouldna be spoiled. I had
a mask and an old white sheet. On the mask I'd painted eyes with
phosphorus, and I put it on, and draped the sheet over my shoulders.
When Jock came along I rose up, slowly, and made some very dreadful
noises, that micht well ha' frightened a man as brave even as Jock was
always saying to us he was!
Ye should ha' seen him run along that stoop! He didna wait a second;
he never touched me, or tried to. He cried out once, nearly dropped his
lamp, and then turned tail and went as if the dell were after him. I'd told
some of the miners what I meant to do, so they were waiting for him,
and when he came along they saw how frightened he was. They had to
support him; he was that near to collapse. As for me, there was so much
excitement I had no trouble in getting to the stable unseen, and then
back to my ain gate, where I belonged.
Jock would no go back to work that day.
"I'll no work in a haunted seam!" he declared, vehemently. "It was a
ghost nine feet high, and strong like a giant! If I'd no been so brave and

kept my head I'd be lying there dead the noo. I surprised him, ye ken,
by putting up a fight--likes he'd never known mortal man to do so much
before! Next time, he'd not be surprised, and brave though a man may
be, he canna ficht with one so much bigger and stronger than himself."
He made a great tale of it before the day was done. As we waited at the
foot of the shaft to be run up in the bucket he was still talking. He was
boasting again, as I'd known he would. And that was the chance I'd
been waiting for a' the time.
"Man, Jock," I said, "ye should ha' had that pistol wi' ye--the one with
which ye killed all the outlaws on the American veldt. Then ye could
ha' shot him."
"That shows how much you know, young Harry Lauder!" he said,
scornfully. "Would a pistol bullet hurt a ghost? Talk of what ye ha'
some knowledge of----"
"Aye," I said. "That's good advice, Jock. I suppose I'm not knowing so
much as you do about ghosts. But tell me, man--would a ghost be
making a noise like this?"
And I made the self-same noise I'd made before, when I was playing
the ghost for Jock's benefit. He turned purple; he was clever enough to
see the joke I'd played on him at once. And the other