nder the door； where the flooring stopped short and exposed a strip of earth。 That would have appalled any but a desperate little dog。 The crack was so small as to admit but one paw； at first； and the earth was packed as hard as wood by generations of trampling cattle。
There he began to dig。 He came of a breed of dogs used by farmers and hunters to dig small； burrowing animals out of holes； a breed whose courage and persistence know no limit。 He dug patiently； steadily； hour after hour； enlarging the hole by inches。 Now and then he had to stop to rest。 When he was able to use both forepaws he made encouraging progress； but when he had to reach under the door； quite the length of his stretched legs； and drag every bit of earth back into the byre； the task must have been impossible to any little creature not urged by utter misery。 But Skye terriers have been known to labor with such fury that they have perished of their own exertions。 Bobby's nose sniffed liberty long before he could squeeze his weasel…like body through the tunnel。 His back bruised and strained by the struggle through a hole too small； he stood； trembling with exhaustion； in the windy dawn。
An opening door； a barking sheep…dog； the shuffle of the moving flock； were signs that the farm day was beginning； although all the stars had not faded out of the sky。 A little flying shadow； Bobby slipped out of the cow…yard； past the farm…house； and literally tumbled down the brae。 From one level to another he dropped； several hundred feet in a very few minutes； and from the clear air of the breezy hilltop to a nether world that was buried fathoms deep in a sea…fog as white as milk。
Hidden in a deep fold of the spreading skirts of the range； and some distance from the road； lay a pool； made by damming a burn； and used； in the shearing season； for washing sheep。 Surrounded by brushy woods； and very damp and dark； at other seasons it was deserted。 Bobby found this secluded place with his nose； curled up under a hazel thicket and fell sound asleep。 And while he slept； a nipping wind from the far； northern Highlands swooped down on the mist and sent it flying out to sea。 The Lowlands cleared like magic。 From the high point where Bobby lay the road could be seen to fall； by short rises and long descents； all the way to Edinburgh。 From its crested ridge and flanking hills the city trailed a dusky banner of smoke out over the fishing fleet in the Firth。
A little dog cannot see such distant views。 Bobby could only read and follow the guide…posts of odors along the way。 He had begun the ascent to the toll…bar when he heard the clatter of a cart and the pounding of hoofs behind him。 He did not wait to learn if this was the Cauldbrae farmer in pursuit。 Certain knowledge on that point was only to be gained at his peril。 He sprang into the shelter of a stone wall； scrambled over it； worked his way along it a short distance； and disappeared into a brambly path that skirted a burn in a woody dell。
Immediately the little dog was lost in an unexplored country。 The narrow glen was musical with springs； and the low growth was undercut with a maze of rabbit runs； very distracting to a dog of a hunting breed。 Bobby knew； by much journeying with Auld Jock； that running water is a natural highway。 Sheep drift along the lowest level until they find an outlet down some declivity； or up some foaming steep； to new pastures。
But never before had Bobby found； above such a rustic brook； a many chimneyed and gabled house of stone； set in a walled garden and swathed in trees。 Today； many would cross wide seas to look upon Swanston cottage； in whose odorous old garden a whey…faced； wistful…eyed laddie dreamed so many brave and laughing dreams。 It was only a farm…house then； fallen from a more romantic history； and it had no attraction for Bobby。 He merely sniffed at dead vines of clematis； sleeping briar bushes； and very live； bright hedges of holly； rounded a corner of its wall； and ran into a group of lusty children romping on the brae； below the very prettiest； thatch roofed and hill…sheltered hamlet within many a mile of Edinboro' town。 The bairns were lunching from grimy； mittened hands； gypsy fashion； life being far too short and playtime too brief for formal meals。 Seeing them eating； Bobby suddenly discovered that he was hungry。 He rose before a well…provided laddie and politely begged for a share of his meal。
Such an excited shouting of admiration and calling on mithers to come and see the bonny wee dog was never before heard on Swanston village green。 Doors flew open and bareheaded women ran out。 Then the babies had to be brought； and the' old grandfaithers and grandmithers。 Everybody oh…ed and ah…ed and clapped hands； and doubled up with laughter； for； a tempting bit held playfully just out of reach； Bobby rose； again and again； jumped for it； and chased a teasing laddie。 Then he bethought him to roll over and over； and to go through other winsome little tricks； as Auld Jock had taught him to do； to win the reward。 All this had one quite unexpected result。 A shrewd…eyed woman pounced upon Bobby and captured him。
〃He's no' an ordinar' dog。 Some leddy has lost her pet。 I'll juist shut 'im up； an' syne she'll pay a shullin' or twa to get 'im again。〃
With a twist and a leap Bobby was gone。 He scrambled straight up the steep； thorn…clad wall of the glen； where no laddie could follow； and was over the crest。 It was a narrow escape； made by terrific effort。 His little heart pounding with exhaustion and alarm； he hid under a whin bush to get his breath and strength。 The sheltered dell was windless； but here a stiff breeze blew。 Suddenly shifting a point； the wind brought to the little dog's nose a whiff of the acrid coal smoke of Edinburgh three miles away。
Straight as an arrow he ran across country； over roadway and wall； plowed fields and rippling burns。 He scrambled under hedges and dashed across farmsteads and cottage gardens。 As he neared the city the hour bells aided him； for the Skye terrier is keen of hearing。 It was growing dark when he climbed up the last bank and gained Lauriston Place。 There he picked up the odors of milk and wool； and the damp smell of the kirkyard。
Now for something comforting to put into his famished little body。 A night and a day of exhausting work； of anxiety and grief； had used up the last ounce of fuel。 Bobby raced down Forest Road and turned the slight angle into Greyfriars Place。 The lamp lighter's progress toward the bridge was marked by the double row of lamps that bloomed； one after one； on the dusk。 The little dog had come to the steps of Mr。 Traill's place； and lifted himself to scratch on the door； when the bugle began to blow。 He dropped with the first note and dashed to the kirkyard gate。
None too soon！ Mr。 Brown was setting the little wicket gate inside； against the wall。 In the instant his back was turned； Bobby slipped through。 After nightfall； when the caretaker had made his rounds； he came out from under the fallen table…tomb of Mistress Jean Grant。
Lights appeared at the rear windows of the tenements； and families sat at supper。 It was snell weather again； the sky dark with threat of snow； and the windows were all closed。 But with a sharp bark beneath the lowest of them Bobby could have made his presence and his wants known。 He watched the people eating； sitting wistfully about on his haunches here and there； but remaining silent。 By and by there were sounds of crying babies； of crockery being washed； and the ringing of church bells far and near。 Then the lights were extinguished； and huge bulks of shadow； of tenements and kirk； engulfed the kirkyard。
When Bobby lay down on Auld Jock's grave； pellets of frozen snow were falling and the air had hardened toward frost。
VI。
Sleep alone goes far to revive a little dog； and fasting sharpens the wits。 Bobby was so tired that he slept soundly； but so hungry that he woke early； and instantly alert to his situation。 It was so very early of a dark winter morning that not even the sparrows were out foraging in the kirkyard for dry seeds。 The drum and bugle had not been sounded from the Castle when the milk and dustman's carts began to clatter over the frozen streets。 With the first hint of dawn stout fishwives； who had tramped all the way in from the piers of Newhaven with heavily laden creels on their heads； were lustily crying their 〃caller herrin'。〃 Soon fagot men began to call up the courts of tenements； where fuel was bought by the scant bundle： 〃Are ye cauld？〃
Many a human waif in the tall buildings about the lower end of Greyfriars kirkyard was cold； even in bed； but； in his thick underjacket of fleece； Bobby was as warm as a plate of breakfast toast。 With a vigorous shaking he broke and scattered the crust of snow that burdened his shaggy thatch。 Then he lay down on the grave again； with his nose on his paws。 Urgent matters occupied the little dog's mind。 To deal with these affairs he had the long head of the canniest Scot； wide and high between。 the ears； and a muzzle as determined as a little steel trap。 Small and forlorn as he was； courage； resource and purpose marked him。
As soon as the door of the caretaker's lodge opened he would have to creep under the f