e hands of
a gaping waiter laddie, set it under Bobby's nose, and watched him begin
to lap the warm liquid eagerly. In the busy place the incident passed
unnoticed. With his usual, brisk decision Mr. Traill turned the backs of
a couple of chairs over against the nearest table, to signify that the
corner was reserved, and he went about his duties with unwonted silence.
As the crowd thinned he returned to the inglenook to find Bobby asleep,
not curled up in a tousled ball, as such a little dog should be, but
stretched on his side and breathing irregularly.

If Bobby was in such straits, how must it be with Auld Jock? This was
the fifth day since the sick old man had fled into the storm. With new
disquiet Mr. Traill remembered a matter that had annoyed him in the
morning, and that he had been inclined to charge to mischievous Heriot
boys. Low down on the outside of his freshly varnished entrance door
were many scratches that Bobby could have made. He may have come for
food on the Sabbath day when the place was closed.

After an hour Bobby woke long enough to eat a generous plate of that
delectable and highly nourishing Scotch dish known as haggis. He fell
asleep again in an easier attitude that relieved the tension on the
landlord's feelings. Confident that the devoted little dog would lead
him straight to his master, Mr. Traill closed the door securely, that he
might not escape unnoticed, and arranged his own worldly affairs so he
could leave them to hirelings on the instant. In the idle time between
dinner and supper he sat down by the fire, lighted his pipe, repented
his unruly tongue, and waited. As the short day darkened to its close
the sunset bugle was blown in the Castle. At the first note, Bobby crept
from under the settle, a little unsteady on his legs as yet, wagged his
tail for thanks, and trotted to the door.

Mr. Traill had no trouble at all in keeping the little dog in sight to
the kirkyard gate, for in the dusk his coat shone silvery white. Indeed,
by a backward look now and then, Bobby seemed to invite the man to
follow, and waited at the gate, with some impatience, for him to
come up. Help was needed there. By rising and tugging at Mr. Traill's
clothing and then jumping on the wicket Bobby plainly begged to have it
opened. He made no noise, neither barking nor whimpering, and that was
very strange for a dog of the terrier breed; but each instant of delay
he became more insistent, and even frantic, to ha