ry him when you are tired, Tavish," said another familiar
voice.

"She can carry ta puir laddie all tay an' all nicht. Maister Ken, tit
ye iver see a tog wi' a petter nose than Dirk?"

"No, Tavvy; but do make haste."

"Ay, laddie; but bide a wee, till she cot her well upo' her shouthers.
There. Noo, ta plaidie. Noo then, we can get there in twice twa hoors.
She'll go first."

"Oh, father, are we too late?" came then in a whisper to Max's ears, as
he felt himself being once more carried.

"Please God, no, my boy!" came back hoarsely.

Then there was another loud and joyful burst of barking, and then all
blank.

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE.

AN EXCITING CHASE.

"Scood! you beast!"

"Silence, Kenneth!" cried The Mackhai sternly, as he looked
half-angrily, half-pleased at the flushed face of the young gillie.

"She ton't care. She'll fecht for ta Mackhai till she ties."

"Leave the room, sir!" cried The Mackhai. "You meant well, but you have
done a cruel and cowardly thing."

Scoodrach hung his head, and stooped to pick up his bonnet by one of the
strands of the worsted tuft, letting the soft flat cap spin slowly round
as he watched it, and then he moved toward the door.

"Stop!" cried The Mackhai.

Scoodrach turned sharply and defiantly round, with his hot northern
blood flushing to his temples.

"Ta Chief may kill her," he cried; "but she shall na say she's sorry."

"Go and fetch Tavish and your father, sir, and never dare to address me
again like that."

Scoodrach slunk out of the room, and, as he turned to shut the door, his
eyes met those of Kenneth, who shook his fist at him.

Without a moment's hesitation, Scoodrach doubled his own, and looked
defiance as the door was closed.

"Never dare to address me again like that!" muttered The Mackhai. "Poor
lad! there is no fear."

"What shall we do, father?"

"Do? We must all set out in search of Max, and bring him back. In my
anger, Ken, I have done a brutal thing."

"But you did not mean it, father."

"How could he know that? See if he has taken his luggage. No, no;
impossible! The poor lad has wandered right away into the mountains,
and I am to blame. Get the ponies, Kenneth; we may do better mounted.
I suppose," he added bitterly, "we may use them for the present."

Kenneth darted out of the room, met Tavish and Long Shon, and in a very
few minutes the two sturdy little ponies were in the old courtyard, The
Mackhai and his son moun