tray."

The dumb creature looked in his face assentingly, and with a sharp
bark took the flock charge. Then the shepherd walked up to the group,
and Jim Armstrong rose to meet him.

"Nae dirks," said an old man quietly; "tak your hands like men."

Before the speech was over they were clinched in a grasp which meant
gigantic strength on one side, and a good deal of practical bruising
science on the other. But before there was an opportunity of testing
the quality of either the dominie was between the men. He threw them
apart like children, and held each of them at arm's length, almost as
a father might separate two fighting schoolboys. The group watching
could not refrain a shout of enthusiasm, and old Tony Musgrave jumped
to his feet and threw his pipe and his cap in the air.

"Dugald," said the dominie to the shepherd, "go your ways to your
sheep. I'll hae nae fighting in my parish.

"Jim Armstrong, you thrawart bully you, dinna think you are the only
man that kens Cumberland cantrips. I could fling you mysel' before you
could tell your own name;" and as if to prove his words, he raised an
immense stone, that few men could have lifted, and with apparent ease
flung it over his right shoulder. A shout of astonishment greeted the
exploit, and Tony Musgrave--whose keen, satirical ill-will had
hitherto been Tallisker's greatest annoyance--came frankly forward and
said, "Dominie, you are a guid fellow! Will you tak some beer wi' me?"

Tallisker did not hesitate a moment.

"Thank you, Tony. If it be a drink o' good-will, I'll tak it gladly."

But he was not inclined to prolong the scene; the interference had
been forced upon him. It had been the only way to stop a quarrel which
there would have been no healing if blood had once been shed. Yet he
was keenly alive to the dignity of his office, and resumed it in the
next moment. Indeed, the drinking of the glass of good-will together
was rather a ceremonial than a convivial affair. Perhaps that also was
the best. The men were silent and respectful, and for the first time
lifted their caps with a hearty courtesy to Tallisker when he left
them.

"Weel! Wonders never cease!" said Jim Armstrong scornfully. "To see
Tony Musgrave hobnobbing wi' a black-coat! The deil must 'a' had a
spasm o' laughing."

"Let the deil laugh," said Tony, with a snap of his grimy fingers.
Then, after a moment's pause, he added, "Lads, I heard this morning
that the dominie's wheat was spoiling,