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