he snarled . `` Powder and your auld hands are but as the snail to the swallow against the bright steel in the hands of Alan , '' said the other . `` Before your jottering finger could find the trigger , the hilt would dirl on your breast-bane . '' `` Eh , man , whae 's denying it ? '' said my uncle . `` Pit it as ye please , hae ' t your ain way ; I 'll do naething to cross ye . Just tell me what like ye 'll be wanting , and ye 'll see that we 'll can agree fine . '' `` Troth , sir , '' said Alan , `` I ask for nothing but plain dealing . In two words : do ye want the lad killed or kept ? '' `` O , sirs ! '' cried Ebenezer . `` O , sirs , me ! that 's no kind of language ! '' `` Killed or kept ! '' repeated Alan . `` O , keepit , keepit ! '' wailed my uncle . `` We 'll have nae bloodshed , if you please . '' `` Well , '' says Alan , `` as ye please ; that 'll be the dearer . '' `` The dearer ? ''
cries XXXXX .
Alan Ebenezer Troth auld breast-bane dealing finger jottering keepit whae