In a moment the tale of Bobby's peril was told. The
laddie dropped his books and his crutches on the pavement, and his head
in his helpless arms, and cried. He had small faith in Ailie's suddenly
conceived plan to collect the seven shullings among the dwellers in the
tenements.

"Do ye ken hoo muckle siller seven shullin's wad be? It's auchty-fower
pennies, a hundred an' saxty-aucht ha'pennies an'--an'--I canna think
hoo mony farthings."

"I dinna care a bittie bit. There's mair folk aroond the kirkyaird than
there's farthings i' twa, three times seven shullin's. An' maist ilka
body kens Bobby. An' we hae a saxpence atween us noo."

"Maister Brown wad gie us anither saxpence gin he had ane," Tammy
suggested, wistfully.

"Nae, he's fair ill. Gin he doesna keep canny it wull gang to 'is heart.
He'd be aff 'is heid, aboot Bobby. Oh, Tammy, Maister Traill gaed to
gie 'im up! He was wearin' a' 'is gude claes an' a lang face, to gang to
Bobby's buryin'."

This dreadful thought spurred them to instant action. By way of mutual
encouragement they went together through the sculptured doorway, that
bore the arms of the ancient guild of the candlemakers on the lintel,
and into the carting office on the front.

"Do ye ken Greyfriars Bobby?" Tammy asked, timidly, of the man in
charge.

He glowered at the laddie and shook his head. "Havers, mannie; there's
no' onybody named for an auld buryin' groond."

The children fled. There was no use at all in wasting time on folk who
did not know Bobby, for it would take too long to explain him. But,
alas, they soon discovered that "maist ilka body" did not know the
little dog, as they had so confidently supposed. He was sure to be known
only in the rooms at the rear that overlooked the kirkyard, and, as one
went upward, his identity became less and less distinct. He was such
a wee, wee, canny terrier, and so many of the windows had their views
constantly shut out by washings. Around the inner courts, where unkempt
women brought every sort of work out to the light on the galleries and
mended worthless rags, gossiped, and nursed their babies on the stairs,
Bobby had sometimes been heard of, but almost never seen. Children often
knew him where their elders did not. By the time Ailie and Tammy had
worked swiftly down to the bottom of the Row other children began to
follow them, moved by the peril of the little dog to sympathy and eager
sacrifice.

"Bide a wee, Ailie!" cried one, runnin