-no." Yet, though himself of this opinion, he knew
well what the talk was, and was astonished accordingly at his father's
remark.

"The Black Killer, is it? What d'you know o' the Killer?" he inquired.

"Why _black_, I wad ken? Why _black?_" the little man asked, leaning
forward in his chair.

Now David, though repudiating in the village Red Wull's complicity
with the crimes, at home was never so happy as when casting cunning
innuendoes to that effect.

"What would you have him then?" he asked. "Red, yaller, muck-dirt
colour?"--and he stared significantly at the Tailless Tyke, who was
lying at his master's feet. The little man ceased rubbing his knees and
eyed the boy. David shifted uneasily beneath that dim, persistent stare.

"Well?" he said at length gruffly.

The little man giggled, and his two thin hands took up their task again.

"Aiblins his puir auld doited fool of a dad kens mair than the dear lad
thinks for, ay, or wushes--eh, Wullie, he! he!"

"Then what is it you do know, or think yo' know?" David asked irritably.

The little man nodded and chuckled.

"Naethin' ava, laddie, naethin' worth the mention. Only aiblins the
Killer'll be caught afore sae lang."

David smiled incredulously, wagging his head in offensive scepticism.

"Yo'll catch him yo'self, I s'pose, you and yer Wullie? Tak' a chair on
to the Marches, whistle a while, and when the Killer comes, why! pit a
pinch o' salt upon his tail--if he had one."

At the last words, heavily punctuated by the speaker, the little man
stopped his rubbing as though shot.

"What wad ye mean by that?" he asked softly.

"What wad I?" the boy replied.

"I dinna ken for sure," the little man answered; "and it's aiblins just
as well for you, dear lad"--in fawning accents--"that I dinna." He
began rubbing and giggling afresh. "It's a gran' thing, Wullie, to ha'
a dutiful son; a shairp lad wha has no silly sens o' shame aboot
sharpenin' his wits at his auld dad's expense. And yet, despite
oor facetious lad there, aiblins we will ha' a hand in the Killer's
catchin', you and I, Wullie--he! he!" And the great dog at his feet
wagged his stump tail in reply.

David rose from his chair and walked across the room to where his father
sat.

"If yo' know sic a mighty heap," he shouted, "happen you'll just tell me
what yo' do know!"

M'Adam stopped stroking Red Wull's massive head, and looked up.

"Tell ye? Ay, wha should I tell if not ma dear David? Tell? Ay,