Scotch Whiskey

Round 'Em Up

"Get the boys, John, we've got a boat to meet," I offered, strolling quickly through the den, hearing all of our bookies counting and taking bets.

"Where d'you think you're going, Thomas? It's race day!" Polly shouted after me as I swung my jacket over my shoulders, placing my hat atop my head.

"I've just gotten word that the gang is stomping up at the docks. They've just got here from Scotland..." I informed my aunt quietly, watching Arthur enter the front door of the house.

"Let's go, Tom, they've just landed," my brother waved me toward the door, and I nodded in response.

"Watch the shop, Pol, we're going to see what these Scots have to offer," I demanded.

The scene before me as I reached the docks, was, to say the least, unnerving. There, stood at the unloading bay of the ship, was a group of men in suits. When I say a group, I mean about sixty lads, all dressed in finely tailored grey suits, each with a tartan cravat and white carnation blossom.

"They've just been collecting their luggage," Arthur offered, still sitting by my side in the family car. "Said that there's a pair of brothers that head them, the MacKenna's."

"Why're they here so early?" I asked. "Why come to Birmingham when they're supposed to be here Sunday?"

"They're looking to cause a fuss, ten quid," John offered from the back of the car. "They're just here to ruffle your feathers and push us out."

"Nah, John, they'll not be wanting to do that," Packy offered, now appearing with his arm leant on the open window of the back seat. "They're here to meet Tommy." Out of instant reflex, my body jumped at his sudden apparition.

"How'dya know?" Arthur inquired. "You call 'em down here early?"

"You told the queen you needed soldiers. Here are your soldiers, Mister Shelby," The gypsy offered with a sly grin. "We've called in a favour to get them here early. They would've barely made it to the races had we not."

"Right," I nodded, getting out of the car. "Let's go."

My brothers followed, each of them donning their flat caps, and swaggering on behind me. I straightened my black coat, adjusting my own cap as I went. We followed the sandy trail down the hill and to the loading dock. Why so many Scotsmen?

In the madness of all the men acquiring their luggage and belongings, I noticed that this was too many trunks to only be here for a few weeks. They'd be staying for longer.

Every man parted before us as we walked to the front of the group, seeing two scarlet headed twin brothers speaking to the shipmaster.

"And you're sure you can't find it?" One called. "It's a purple velvet case, I'm right bloody sure it can't have gone far!"

"It's nowhere on board, Mister MacKenna," the shipmaster informed the boy.

"If I find otherwise," the other brother said intimidatingly, his extremely tall stature towering over the shipmaster. "You'll not like what we have to say to you."

I smiled at the boy's confidence and walked closer to the scene before me.

"Master Collins, I do believe that you may have forgotten to check the crew quarters!" I greeted the man, coming to stand next to the extremely tall red-headed gang leaders. "Maybe it slid into their compartments, on accident of course!"

"Oh, yes, Mister Shelby, I'll personally check, right away sir!" The moustached sailor nodded, the sight of me making him fall in line, and ran back into the cargo hold. This man had an affinity for pinching jewels and many fine things from the more rich passengers on his ship, just to slide in some extra cash.