ened to the story of Bobby's adventures with a mingled
look of disgust at the foolishness of men, pride in Bobby's prowess,
and resentment at having been left out of the drama of the night before.
"It's maist michty, noo, Maister Traill, that ye wad tak' the leeberty
o' leein' to me," he complained.

"It was a gude lee or a bad nicht for an ill man. Geordie will tell
you that a mind at ease is worth four shullings, and I'm charging you
naething. Eh, man, you're deeficult to please." As he went out into the
kirkyard Mr. Traill stopped to reflect on a strange thing: "'You've done
very well, Mr. Ross.' Weel, weel, how the laddies do grow up! But I'm
no' going to admit it to Geordie."

Another thought, over which he chuckled, sent him off to find the
sergeant. The soldier was tramping gloomily about in the wet, to the
demoralization of his beautiful boots.

"Man, since a stormy nicht eight years ago last November I've aye been
looking for a bigger weel meaning fule than my ain sel'. You're the man,
so if you'll just shak' hands we'll say nae more about it."

He did not explain this cryptic remark, but he went on to assure the
sorry soldier that Bobby had got no serious hurt and would soon be as
well as ever. They had turned toward the gate when a stranger with a
newspaper in his hand peered mildly around the kirk and inquired "Do ye
ken whaur's the sma' dog, man?" As Mr. Traill continued to stare at him
he explained, patiently: "It's Greyfriars Bobby, the bittie terrier the
Laird Provost gied the collar to. Hae ye no' seen 'The Scotsman' the
day?"

The landlord had not. And there was the story, Bobby's, name heading
quite a quarter of a broad column of fine print, and beginning with:
"A very singular and interesting occurrence was brought to light in the
Burgh court by the hearing of a summons in regard to a dog tax."
Bobby was a famous dog, and Mr. Traill came in for a goodly portion of
reflected glory. He threw up his hands in dismay.

"It's all over the toon, Sergeant." Turning to the stranger, he assured
him that Bobby was not to be seen. "He hurt himsel' coming down Castle
Rock in the nicht, and is in the lodge with the caretaker, wha's fair
ill. Hoo do I ken?" testily. "Weel, man, I'm Mr. Traill."

He saw at once how unwise was that admission, for he had to shake hands
with the cordial stranger. And after dismissing him there was another at
the gate who insisted upon going up to the lodge to see the little hero