t,
and then shot down the slope. At the same moment Tammas hallooed: "Theer
he be! yon's yaller un coomin' oot o' drain! La, Sam'l!" And there,
indeed, on the slope below them, a little angry, smutty-faced figure was
crawling out of a rabbit-burrow.

"Ye murderin' devil, wad ye duar touch ma Wullie?" yelled M'Adam, and,
breaking away, pursued hotly down the hill; for the gray dog had picked
up the puppy, like a lancer a tent-peg, and was sweeping on, his captive
in his mouth, toward the stream.

Behind, hurried James Moore and Sam'l, wondering what the issue of the
comedy would be. After them toddled old Tammas, chuckling. While over
the yard-wall was now a little cluster of heads: 'Enry, oor Job, Maggie
and David, and Vi'let Thornton, the dairy-maid.

Straight on to the plank-bridge galloped Owd Bob. In the middle he
halted, leant over, and dropped his prisoner; who fell with a cool plop
into the running water beneath.

Another moment and M'Adam had reached the bank of the stream. In he
plunged, splashing and cursing, and seized the struggling puppy; then
waded back, the waters surging about his waist, and Red Wull, limp as
a wet rag, in his hand. The little man's hair was dripping, for his cap
was gone; his clothes clung to him, exposing the miserableness of his
figure; and his eyes blazed like hot ashes in his wet face.

He sprang on to the bank, and, beside himself with passion, rushed at
Owd Bob.

"Curse ye for a ----"

"Stan' back, or yo'll have him at your throat!" shouted the Master,
thundering up. "Stan' back, I say, yo' fule!" And, as the little man
still came madly on, he reached forth his hand and hurled him back; at
the same moment, bending, he buried the other hand deep in Owd Bob's
shaggy neck. It was but just in time; for if ever the fierce desire of
battle gleamed in gray eyes, it did in the young dog's as M'Adam came
down on him.

The little man staggered, tottered, and fell heavily. At the shock, the
blood gushed from his nose, and, mixing with the water on his face, ran
down in vague red streams, dripping off his chin; while Red Wull, jerked
from his grasp, was thrown afar, and lay motionless.

"Curse ye!" M'Adam screamed, his face dead-white save for the running
red about his jaw. "Curse ye for a cowardly Englishman!" and, struggling
to his feet, he made at the Master.

But Sam'l interposed his great bulk between the two.

"Easy, little mon," he said leisurely, regarding the small fury