nderly.

"It shall no leave the Estate or ma hoose, yer Leddyship, gin Wullie and
I can help it," he said emphatically.

Lady Eleanour retreated into the tent, and the crowd swarmed over the
ropes and round the little man, who held the Cup beneath his arm.

Long Kirby laid irreverent hands upon it.

"Dinna finger it!" ordered M'Adam.

"Shall!''

"Shan't! Wullie, keep him aff." Which the great dog proceeded to do amid
the laughter of the onlookers.

Among the last, James Moore was borne past the little man. At sight of
him, M'Adam's face assumed an expression of intense concern.

"Man, Moore!" he cried, peering forward as though in alarm; "man, Moore,
ye're green--positeevely verdant. Are ye in pain?" Then, catching sight
of Owd Bob, he started back in affected horror.

"And, ma certes! so's yer dog! Yer dog as was gray is green. Oh, guid
life! "--and he made as though about to fall fainting to the ground.

Then, in bantering tones: "Ah, but ye shouldna covet ----"

"He'll ha' no need to covet it long, I can tell yo'," interposed
Tammas's shrill accents.

"And why for no?"

"Becos next year he'll win it fra yo'. Oor Bob'll win it, little mon.
Why? thot's why."

The retort was greeted with a yell of applause from the sprinkling of
Dalesmen in the crowd.

But M'Adam swaggered away into the tent, his head up, the Cup beneath
his arm, and Red Wull guarding his rear.

"First of a' ye'll ha' to beat Adam M'Adam and his Red Wull!" he cried
back proudly.

Chapter XI. OOR BOB

M'ADAM'S pride in the great Cup that now graced his kitchen was supreme.
It stood alone in the very centre of the mantelpiece, just below the old
bell-mouthed blunderbuss that hung upon the wall. The only ornament in
the bare room, it shone out in its silvery chastity like the moon in a
gloomy sky.

For once the little man was content. Since his mother's death David had
never known such peace. It was not that his father became actively kind;
rather that he forgot to be actively unkind.

"Not as I care a brazen button one way or t'ither," the boy informed
Maggie.

"Then yo' should," that proper little person replied.

M'Adam was, indeed, a changed being. He forgot to curse James Moore; he
forgot to sneer at Owd Bob; he rarely visited the Sylvester Arms, to the
detriment of Jem Burton's pocket and temper; and he was never drunk.

"Soaks 'isseif at home, instead," suggested Tammas, the prejudiced. But
the accusation was u