again, Ken," said The Mackhai
sadly. "That boy must be found. Can you form any idea which way he
would take?"

"No, father. I've been trying to think, but we seem to have tried
everywhere, and I don't believe he could have gone very far."

"He had a long start."

"You don't think he has come to any harm--slipped over the crags
anywhere, or gone into--"

Kenneth stopped and shuddered.

"One of the boggy patches, Ken? Oh no, my boy. He has been out so much
with you and Scoodrach, that he ought to be able to take care of himself
by now."

"Yes, father--ought to," said Kenneth meaningly; and then, in an
outburst of passion, as he stood with clenched fists, "I'll give Scoody
such a thrashing as he never had in his life! I'll half kill him."

"Hush! That will do," said The Mackhai sadly. "The boy acted according
to his lights. He was, in his half-savage way, fighting for the honour
of our old house."

"Yes, father, but--"

"Hush, my boy! Our days are numbered at Dunroe: let us leave here with
as pleasant memories as we can, and with the love and respect of those
who have looked to us for bread."

"Oh, father!" cried Kenneth; and there was a great sob in his throat,
and his face was contracted though his eyes were dry.

The Mackhai grasped his son's hand.

"Be a man, Ken," he said quietly. "You ought to have commenced life
well, but now you will have to go forth into the world and fight your
way. You must make friends, not enemies."

"It would not make Scood an enemy, father, and a good whacking would do
him good."

"No, no, Ken. Now get some food, and go and lie down for a few hours to
have some rest. We can do nothing till daylight."

"Very well, father. And--and I will try not to mind leaving the old
place, and to be a man."

"God bless you, my boy!" cried The Mackhai, laying his hands upon his
son's shoulders and gazing into his eyes. "Come, Ken, trouble has its
good sides after all; it has taught me something more about the nature
of my son. Now, go and get some rest; I shall not be happy till I have
taken that boy again by the hand."

"Why, father!" cried Kenneth excitedly. "Oh, what an old donkey I am!"

Before The Mackhai could speak, he had rushed out of the room and across
the hall, to return at the end of a few minutes in company with Dirk,
who was barking, and as excited as his master.

"Why, Ken!" cried The Mackhai.

"It's all right, father. Dirk will find him. Tavvy