is of yours,' observed Gerald, caressing Laddie,
who had been fawning upon the new-comers, and now ended by sitting down
between Gerald and Tricksy.

Tricksy looked gratified.

'He's my dog,' she said. 'He likes you, I think.'

Gerald stroked Laddie's head and his white ruffle, and the dog made a
little sound to express gratification.

'Tricksy, keep your dog quiet, he'll frighten away the trout,' sang out
Allan warningly; and Tricksy requested Laddie to 'trust.'

The sun shone down upon green grass and brown pools, and drew out the
perfume of the flowers and heather. Not far distant was the pleasant
noise of the sea, and the calling of the gulls answered the plaintive
cry of the plovers which fluttered about the moor and the meadows.

The day was too bright, and the trout which could be seen at the bottom
of the pools refused to take. After a little while the strong fresh
air and sun began to have a drowsy effect upon the anglers.

Gerald rubbed his eyes once or twice, and stifled a yawn; and Tricksy
found that he was disinclined for conversation.

'Hulloa!' cried a voice from the top of a ridge; and Marjorie and
Hamish came racing down. Laddie's welcoming bark roused Gerald, who
jumped into a sitting posture, and looked about him in a surprised way.

'Hulloa, Marjorie,' said Allan; 'glad you've come. This is Harry
Graham, and this is Gerald.'

Marjorie looked at the new-comers with approval, and Hamish shook hands
good-naturedly.

'Are we going to fish all afternoon,' said Marjorie, 'or shall we take
a scramble?'

'A scramble,' replied Reggie; 'they want to see the rocks.'

'If Gerald isn't too tired,' put in Tricksy considerately; 'he was
asleep a minute ago.'

'No,' protested Gerald, flushing and looking very much vexed; 'I
wasn't. I'm quite ready for a walk.'

'Suppose we take them to the Smugglers' Caves,' suggested Marjorie.
'They're the finest sight in the island, I think.'

At the mention of smugglers Harry's eyes began to sparkle, and Gerald's
blue ones opened very wide.

'Are there--are there any smugglers there now?' asked Harry.

'Sometimes there are,' replied Marjorie, 'but I don't expect we shall
meet any. Smuggling isn't what it used to be,' she added somewhat
regretfully.

'What luck if we could only come across some,' said Harry. 'Let's go
and see the caves anyhow.'

'It's a long walk, across moors and bogs, and steep hills,' said
Marjorie; 'but if you're game, come al