he
remarked testily "The barkin' disturbs my customers so they canna read."
The place was a resort for student laddies who had to be saving of
candles.

"That's no' right," the landlord admitted, sympathetically. "'Reading
mak'th a full man.' Eh, what a deeference to the warld if Robbie Burns
had aye preferred a book to a bottle." The bookseller refused to be
beguiled from his just cause of complaint into the flowery meads of
literary reminiscences and speculations.

"You'll stop that dog's cleaving noise, Mr. Traill, or I'll appeal to
the Burgh police."

The landlord returned a bland and child-like smile. "You'd be weel
within your legal rights to do it, neebor."

The door was shut with such a business-like click that the situation
suddenly became serious. Bobby's vocal powers, however, gave no signs of
diminishing. Mr. Traill quieted the dog for a few moments by letting him
into the outer room, but the swiftness and energy with which he renewed
his attacks on the door and on the man's will showed plainly that the
truce was only temporary. He did not know what he meant to do except
that he certainly had no intention of abandoning the little dog. To gain
time he put on his hat and coat, picked Bobby up, and opened the door.
The thought occurred to him to try the gate at the upper end of the
kirkyard or, that failing, to get into Heriot's Hospital grounds and put
Bobby over the wall. As he opened the door, however, he heard Geordie
Ross's whistle around the bend in Forest Road.

"Hey, laddie!" he called. "Come awa' in a meenit." When the sturdy boy
was inside and the door safely shut, he began in his most guileless and
persuasive tone: "Would you like to earn a shulling, Geordie?"

"Ay, I would. Gie it to me i' pennies an' ha'pennies, Maister Traill. It
seems mair, an' mak's a braw jinglin' in a pocket."

The price was paid and the tale told. The quick championship of the
boy was engaged for the gallant dog, and Geordie's eyes sparkled at the
prospect of dark adventure. Bobby was on the floor listening, ears and
eyes, brambly muzzle and feathered tail alert. He listened with his
whole, small, excited body, and hung on the answer to the momentous
question.

"Is there no' a way to smuggle the bit dog into the kirkyard?"

It appeared that nothing was easier, "aince ye ken hoo." Did Mr. Traill
know of the internal highway through the old Cunzie Neuk at the bottom
of the Row? One went up the stairs on the front to