anny, stabbing at the air as he went,
and screaming, "By ----, Kirby, wait till I get ye!"

Chapter XVIII. HOW THE KILLER WAS SINGED

No further harm came of the incident; but it served as a healthy
object-lesson for the Dalesmen.

A coincidence it may have been, but, as a fact, for the fortnight
succeeding Kirby's exploit there was a lull in the crimes. There
followed, as though to make amends, the seven days still remembered in
the Daleland as the Bloody Week.

On the Sunday the Squire lost a Cheviot ewe, killed not a hundred yards
from the Manor wall. On the Monday a farm on the Black Water was marked
with the red cross. On Tuesday--a black night--Tupper at Swinsthwaite
came upon the murderer at his work; he fired into the darkness without
effect; and the Killer escaped with a scaring. On the following night
Viscount Birdsaye lost a shearling ram, for which he was reported to
have paid a fabulous sum. Thursday was the one blank night of the week.
On Friday Tupper was again visited and punished heavily, as though in
revenge for that shot.

On the Saturday afternoon a big meeting was held at the Manor to discuss
measures. The Squire presided; gentlemen and magistrates were there in
numbers, and every farmer in the country-side.

To start the proceedings the Special Commissioner read a futile letter
from the Board of Agriculture. After him Viscount Birdsaye rose and
proposed that a reward more suitable to the seriousness of the case
than the paltry 5 pounds of the Police should be offered, and backed his
proposal with a 25 pound cheque. Several others spoke, and, last of all,
Parson Leggy rose.

He briefly summarized the history of the crimes; reiterated his belief
that a sheep-dog was the criminal; declared that nothing had occurred
to shake his conviction; and concluded by offering a remedy for their
consideration. Simple it was, so he said, to laughableness; yet, if
their surmise was correct, it would serve as an effectual preventive if
not cure, and would at least give them time to turn round. He paused.

"My suggestion is: That every man-jack of you who owns a sheep-dog ties
him up at night."

The farmers were given half an hour to consider the proposal, and
clustered in knots talking it over. Many an eye was directed on M'Adam;
but that little man appeared all unconscious.

"Weel, Mr. Saunderson," he was saying in, shrill accents, "and shall ye
tie Shep?"

"What d'yo' think?" asked Rob, eying