* * * * *

From the very first the young dog took to his work in a manner to
amaze even James Moore. For a while he watched his mother, Meg, at her
business, and with that seemed to have mastered the essentials of sheep
tactics.

Rarely had such fiery elan been seen on the sides of the Pike; and with
it the young dog combined a strange sobriety, an admirable patience,
that justified, indeed, the epithet. "Owd." Silent he worked, and
resolute; and even in those days had that famous trick of coaxing the
sheep to do his wishes;--blending, in short, as Tammas put it, the
brains of a man with the way of a woman.

Parson Leggy, who was reckoned the best judge of a sheep or sheep-dog
'twixt Tyne and Tweed, summed him up in the one word "Genius." And James
Moore himself, cautious man, was more than pleased.

In the village, the Dalesmen, who took a personal pride in the Gray Dogs
of Kenmuir, began to nod sage heads when "oor" Bob was mentioned. Jim
Mason, the postman, whose word went as far with the villagers as Parson
Leggy's with the gentry, reckoned he'd never seen a young un as so took
his fancy.

That winter it grew quite the recognized thing, when they had gathered
of a night round the fire in the Sylvester Arms, with Tammas in the
centre, old Jonas Maddox on his right, Rob Saunderson of the Holt on the
left, and the others radiating away toward the sides, for some one to
begin with:

"Well, and what o' oor Bob, Mr. Thornton?"

To which Tammas would always make reply:

"Oh, yo' ask Sam'l there. He'll tell yo' better'n me, "--and would
forthwith plunge, himself, into a yarn.

And the way in which, as the story proceeded, Tupper of Swinsthwaite
winked at Ned Hoppin of Fellsgarth, and Long Kirby, the smith, poked Jem
Burton, the publican, in the ribs, and Sexton Ross said, "Ma word, lad!"
spoke more eloquently than many words.

One man only never joined in the chorus of admiration. Sitting always
alone in the background, little M'Adam would listen with an incredulous
grin on his sallow face.

"Oh, ma certes! The devil's in the dog! It's no cannie ava!" he would
continually exclaim, as Tammas told his tale.

* * * * *

In the Daleland you rarely see a stranger's face. Wandering in the wild
country about the twin dales at the time of this story, you might have
met Parson Leggy, striding along with a couple of varmint terriers at
his heels, and youn