was the feeling Dick had for Christina Shine. Thore had been
others--Richard Haddon was not bigoted in his constancy--but now it was
Miss Chris, and to him she was both angel and princess; a princess stolen
from her royal cradle by the impostor Shine under moving and mysterious
circumstances, and at the instigation of a disreputable uncle. It only
remained for Dick to slaughter the latter in fair fight, under the eyes
of an admiring multitude, in order to restore Chris to all her royal
dignities and privileges.

Jock Summers had not relaxed his grip on the boy's ear. He led him to a
small dairy sunk in the side of the hill and roofed with stone.

Ye may bide in there, laddie,' he said, 'till I can make up my mind. I
think I might just skin ye, an' I think maybe I might get ye ten years to
Yarraman Goal, but I'm no sure.'

Dick had to go down several steps to the floor of the dairy, and when the
door was shut his face was on a level with the grating that let air into
the place. He passed the first few minutes of his imprisonment making
offers of friendship to the dog that sprawled out side, opening its
capacious mouth at him and curling its long tongue as if anxious to
amuse. The boy had no fears as to his fate; he felt he could safely leave
that to Miss Chris; and, meanwhile, the dog was entertaining. The animal
was new to Dick: had he known of its existence, his descent upon the
orchard would have been differently ordered. In time Maori came to be
intimately known to every boy in Waddy as the most kindly and affable dog
in the world, but afflicted with a singularly morbid devotion to duty. If
sent to capture a predatory youth he never failed to secure the marauder,
and always did it as if he loved him. His formidable teeth were not
called into service; he either knocked the youngster down and held him
with soft but irresistible paws, or he gambolled with him, jumped on him,
frisked over him, made escape impossible, and all the time seemed to
imply: 'I have a duty to perform, but you can't blame me, you know.
There's no reason in the world why we shouldn't be the best of friends.'
And they were the best of friends in due course, for Maori bore no
malice; there came a time when youngsters invaded Jock's garden for the
pleasure of being captured by his wonderful dog.

Ere Dick had been in his prison ten minutes Chris came to him with tea
and cake and scones, and when he had finished these she showered cherries
in upon