ersation."

As this bombardment proceeded, the sergeant's jaw dropped. When it was
finished he laughed heartily and slapped his knee. "Man, come an' brak
bread wi' me or I'll hae to brak yer stiff neck."

A truce was declared over a cozy pot of tea, and the two became at
least temporary friends. It was such a day that the landlord would have
gossiped with a gaol bird; and when a soldier who has seen years of
service, much of it in strange lands, once admits a shopkeeper to
equality, he can be affable and entertaining "by the ordinar'." Mr.
Traill sketched Bobby's story broadly, and to a sympathetic listener;
and the soldier told the landlord of the animals that had lived and died
in the Castle.

Parrots and monkeys and strange dogs and cats had been brought there by
regiments returning from foreign countries and colonies. But most of the
pets had been native dogs--collies, spaniels and terriers, and animals
of mixed breeds and of no breed at all, but just good dogs. No one knew
when the custom began, but there was an old and well-filled cemetery
for the Castle pets. When a dog died a little stone was set up, with
the name of the animal and the regiment to which it had belonged on it.
Soldiers often went there among the tiny mounds and told stories of the
virtues and taking ways of old favorites. And visitors read the names of
Flora and Guy and Dandie, of Prince Charlie and Rob Roy, of Jeanie and
Bruce and Wattie. It was a merry life for a dog in the Castle. He
was petted and spoiled by homesick men, and when he died there were a
thousand mourners at his funeral.

"Put it to the bit Skye noo. If he tak's the Queen's shullin' he belongs
to the army." The sergeant flipped a coin before Bobby, who was wagging
his tail and sniffing at the military boots with his ever lively
interest in soldiers.

He looked up at the tossed coin indifferently, and when it fell to the
floor he let it lie. "Siller" has no meaning to a dog. His love can be
purchased with nothing less than his chosen master's heart. The soldier
sighed at Bobby's indifference. He introduced himself as Sergeant Scott,
of the Royal Engineers, detailed from headquarters to direct the work
in the Castle crafts shops. Engineers rank high in pay and in
consideration, and it was no ordinary Jack of all trades who had expert
knowledge of so many skilled handicrafts. Mr. Traill's respect and
liking for the man increased with the passing moments.

As the sergeant dep