and the man faced round and
held up his boot.

"Come here, sir! Come back!" shouted Gwyn; and the dog obeyed at once,
but muttering protests the while, as if not considering such an
interruption justifiable.

Then all three stood watching till the man had disappeared, the dog
uttering an angry whine from time to time, as if still dissatisfied.

At last the two boys, who had met now for the first time since the
adventure on the ladder, turned to gaze in each other's eyes, and ended
in exchanging a short nod.

"Going up?" said Gwyn at last.

"Yes; I came on purpose, and found Grip here."

"So did I come on purpose," said Gwyn. "Wanted a good think. Lead on."

Joe went to the tallest of the old stones, and began to climb--no easy
task, but one to which he seemed to be accustomed; and after a little
difficulty, he obtained foothold, and then, getting a hand well on
either side of one of the weather-worn angles, he drew himself higher
and higher, and finally perched himself on the top.

Before he was half up, Gwyn began to follow, without a thought of
danger, though he did say, "Hold tight; don't come down on my head."

Up he went skilfully enough, but before he was at the top, Grip uttered
a few sharp barks, raised his ears, became excited, and jumped at the
monolith, to scramble up a few feet, drop, and, learning no wisdom from
failure, scramble up again and again, and fall back.

Then, as he saw his master reach the top, he threw back his head, opened
his jaws, and uttered a most doleful, long-drawn howl, as full of misery
and disappointment as a dog could give vent to.

"Quiet, will you!" cried Gwyn, and the dog answered with a sharp bark,
to which he added another dismal, long-drawn howl.

"Do you hear!" cried Gwyn; "don't make that row. Lie down!"

There was another howl.

"Do you want me to throw stones at you?" cried Gwyn, fiercely.

Doubtless the dog did not, for he had an intense aversion to being
pelted; but, as if quite aware of the fact that there were no stones to
cast, he threw his head up higher than ever, and put all his force into
a dismal howl, that was unutterably mournful and strange.

"You wretch! Be quiet! Lie down!" cried Gwyn; but the more he shouted
the louder the dog howled, while he kept on making ineffectual efforts
to mount the stone.

"Let him be; never mind. He'll soon get tired. Want to talk."

The boys settled themselves in uncomfortable positions on the narrow