a wink o' the ee at the
police to mak' them ken I was leein'; an' syne they'd hae hustled 'im
aff, willy-nilly, to a snug bed."

The energetic little man looked so entirely capable of any daring deed
that he fired the caretaker into enthusiastic search for Bobby. It was
not entirely dark, for the sky was studded with stars, snow lay in broad
patches on the slope, and all about the lower end of the kirkyard supper
candles burned at every rear window of the tall tenements.

The two men searched among the near-by slabs and table-tombs and
scattered thorn bushes. They circled the monument to all the martyrs who
had died heroically, in the Grassmarket and elsewhere, for their faith.
They hunted in the deep shadows of the buttresses along the side of the
auld kirk and among the pillars of the octagonal portico to the new. At
the rear of the long, low building, that was clumsily partitioned across
for two pulpits, stood the ornate tomb of "Bluidy" McKenzie. But Bobby
had not committed himself to the mercy of the hanging judge, nor yet
to the care of the doughty minister, who, from the pulpit of Greyfriars
auld kirk, had flung the blood and tear stained Covenant in the teeth of
persecution.

The search was continued past the modest Scott family burial plot and
on to the west wall. There was a broad outlook over Heriot's Hospital
grounds, a smooth and shining expanse of unsullied snow about the early
Elizabethan pile of buildings. Returning, they skirted the lowest wall
below the tenements, for in the circling line of courtyarded vaults,
where the "nobeelity" of Scotland lay haughtily apart under timestained
marbles, were many shadowy nooks in which so small a dog could stow
himself away. Skulking cats were flushed there, and sent flying over
aristocratic bones, but there was no trace of Bobby.

The second tier of windows of the tenements was level with the kirkyard
wall, and several times Mr. Traill called up to a lighted casement where
a family sat at a scant supper.

"Have you seen a bit dog, man?"

There was much cordial interest in his quest, windows opening and faces
staring into the dusk; but not until near the top of the Row was a clue
gained. Then, at the query, an unkempt, illclad lassie slipped from her
stool and leaned out over the pediment of a tomb. She had seen a "wee,
wee doggie jinkin' amang the stanes." It was on the Sabbath evening,
when the well-dressed folk had gone home from the afternoon services.
S