country-side. The heat of the Dalesmen's enthusiasm was only
intensified by the fever of their apprehension. Many a man would lose
more than he cared to contemplate were Th' Owd Un beat. But he'd not be!
Nay; owd, indeed, he was--two years older than his great rival; there
were a hundred risks, a hundred chances; still: "What's the odds agin
Owd Bob o' Kenmuir? I'm takin' 'em. Who'll lay agin Th' Owd Un?"

And with the air saturated with this perpetual talk of the old dog,
these everlasting references to his certain victory; his ears drumming
with the often boast that the gray dog was the best in the North,
M'Adam became the silent, ill-designing man of six months since--morose,
brooding, suspicious, muttering of conspiracy, plotting revenge.

The scenes at the Sylvester Arms were replicas of those of previous
years. Usually the little man sat isolated in a far corner, silent
and glowering, with Red Wull at his feet. Now and then he burst into
a paroxysm of insane giggling, slapping his thigh, and muttering,
"Ay, it's likely they'll beat us, Wullie. Yet aiblins there's a wee
somethin'--a somethin' we ken and they dinna, Wullie,--eh! Wullie, he!
he!" And sometimes he would leap to his feet and address his pot-house
audience, appealing to them passionately, satirically, tearfully, as the
mood might be on him; and his theme was always the same: James Moore,
Owd Bob, the Cup, and the plots agin him and his Wullie; and always he
concluded with that hint of the surprise to come.

Meantime, there was no news of David; he had gone as utterly as a ship
foundered in mid-Atlantic. Some said he'd 'listed; some, that he'd gone
to sea. And "So he 'as," corroborated Sam'l, "floatin', 'eels uppards."

With no gleam of consolation, Maggie's misery was such as to rouse
compassion in all hearts. She went no longer blithely singing about
her work; and all the springiness had fled from her gait. The people of
Kenmuir vied with one another in their attempts to console their young
mistress.

* * * * *

Maggie was not the only one in whose life David's absence had created
a void. Last as he would have been to own it, M'Adam felt acutely the
boy's loss. It may have been he missed the ever-present butt; it may
have been a nobler feeling. Alone with Red Wull, too late he felt his
loneliness. Sometimes, sitting in the kitchen by himself, thinking of
the past, he experienced sharp pangs of remorse; and this was