from The Derk Isle

Dinna staund like a stookie! A man lowpit aff the train. We maun follae him!

I’ll bet ma breeks he’s up tae nae guid!

Oot the skirlin pan an intae the fire, aw richt!

He’s a fair wunner, is wee Tarrie. There’s no a dug like him for snowkin efter crooks!

Sugarellie! The door’s steekit!

We’re gubbit, Tarrie! He’ll lowse the ithers an syne the hail clanjamfrie wull be efter us!

Wouff! Wouff! Dae they no ken that Tintin’s in danger?

Murther, polis! I maun dae something!

Cud ye no jist dander throu the yett like me? Ye’re aye the superhero!

Gaun yersel, Tintin! Wham! Ane doon! Wham! An the tither!

Nisbet an Nesbit:
Yon’s an antrin thing, Nisbet …
Mair nor that, Nesbit, a queer an antrin thing.

Hoo come we’ve stapt? Lovanentie! Whaur’s Tintin?
I doot we’ve tint him…

The limmer! He’s gien us the slip, an joukit awa!
Mair nor that, he’s gien us the jouk, an slippit awa!