Sentence The Fivehundredandsixtyfifth 
 

Connor and the boys barely registered the goals that were scored, the movements of the players, the roars and groans of the crowd nor the fact that Celtic had been beaten soundly by Partick Thistle; as the referee blew the final whistle, supporters in green and white poured scorn and the occasional dash
of vitriol on their own team, while the yellow of Partick's colours shone auriferous in the low winter sun, their subject began to move towards the exit, surrounded by jubilant Jags fans, while glum supporters of The Bhoys trooped despondently out, but the eyes of the three O'Hare's were fixed on the back of the man they each believed to be The Intruder as he passed through the turnstile, with them close on his heels; they kept a safe distance and followed him with celerity, never letting him
get too far ahead, nor allowing themselves to walk so close they might tread on his heels, first to The Clansman, hard by the waters of the Kelvin where the two youngsters kicked their own heels outside, after their Da went inside to observe the man, but he didn't stay long, just enough to drink a pint of 
heavy with a whisky chaser, before leaving and walking briskly away; they saw him turn into a residential street, with tenement closes on one side, while on the other, downstairs flats had a front door, with the close leading to the stairs for the upper flats and it was to one of the front doors that The Intruder approached and knocked: "div ye think this is his hidey?" whispered Tam to Connor, who grunted: "wait and see Tam, jist bide quiet the noo," and after less than a minute the door was opened by a young woman, scantily dressed in black stockings and a cutty sark – she threw her arms
around the man's neck and kissed him, as he lifted her and her legs wrapped around his waist; the boys gasped and Connor cursed softly, at the sight of the loving couple, before the door closed behind them and they heard the lock click; "thon's aboot as fer as wir goanie see the nicht," said Connor to his sons, with a heavy weight of circumspection in his voice, "but ah'll come back the morn and find oot wha he is, though ah hae ma doots he cannae be the Goering feller wha's picter wis in the paper," referring to Tam's chip paper that had been left with Inspector Ferguson of the Gorbals Peelers, "if thon's no a whore-hoose he mun be a happily merrit man," not adding what he thought: that the woman was a bonny lass he wouldn't have minded wrapping her legs about him, if he wasn't himself a happily merrit man, with ten bairns to show for it! 

Teams

Partick Thistle:
Nimmo, McGowan, Curran; Hewitt, Husband, Brown; Glover, O'Donnell, Mathie, Sharp, Chisholm.
Scorers: Glover (19), Chisholm (23), O'Donnell (68), Sharp (86)

Celtic:
Miller, Hogg, McDonald, Lynch, Corbett, Milne, Evans, Kiernan, Rae, McAloon, Hazlitt

Scorer: McAloon (33)

Referee: Mr Bert MacPherson
Attendance: 40,000