"Thank ye, General."

"Ye hae an auld gun, haena' ye?"

"Ay have I; but she's nearhan' the rivin'."

"Load her to the mou', and lat her rive. We'll may be hear't. But haud
weel oot ower frae her. Ye can lay a train, ye ken."

"I s' tak care o' that, General."

"Scrumpie, ye bide no that far frae the draigon's den. Ye jist keep yer
ee--nae the crookit ane--upo' her ootgoins an' incomins; or raither, ye
luik efter her comin oot, an' we'll a' luik efter her gaein in again.
Jist mak a regiment o' yer ain to watch her, and bring ye word o' her
proceedins. Ye can easy luik roun the neuk o' the back-yett, an' nobody
be a hair the wiser. As sune as ever ye spy her lowse i' the yard be
aff wi' ye to Willie Macwha. Syne, Curly, ye fire yer gun, and burn the
blue lichts o' the tap o' the hoose; and gin I see or hear the signal,
I'll be ower in seven minutes an' a half. Ilka ane o' ye 'at hears,
maun luik efter the neist; and sae we'll a' gether at Curly's. Fess yer
bags for the stanes, them 'at has bags."

"But gin ye dinna see or hear, for it's a lang road, General?"
interposed Cadger.

"Gin I'm no at your yard, Curly, in saiven minutes an' a half, sen'
Linkum efter me. He's the only ane o' ye 'at can rin. It's a' that he
can do, but he does't weel.--Whan Juno's ance oot, she's no in a hurry
in again."

The boys separated and went home in a state of excitement, which
probably, however, interfered very little with their appetites, seeing
it was moderated in the mean time by the need and anticipation of their
dinners.

The sun set now between two and three o'clock, and there were long
forenights to favour the plot. Perhaps their hatred of the dog would
not have driven them to such extreme measures, even although she had
bitten Annie Anderson, had her master been a favourite, or even
generally respected. But Alec knew well enough that the townsfolk were
not likely to sympathize with Bruce on the ill-treatment of his cur.

When the dinner and the blazing fire had filled him so full of comfort
that he was once more ready to encounter the cold, Alec could stay in
the house no longer.

"Where are you going, Alec?" said his mother.

"Into the garden, mamma."

"What can you want in the garden--full of snow?"

"It's just the snow I want, mamma. It won't keep."

And, in another moment, he was under the clear blue night-heaven, with
the keen frosty air blowing on his warm cheek, busy with a wheelbarrow
and a spade, slicin