all the
more the case after Maggie's visit. Subsequent to that day the little
man, to do him justice, was never known to hint by word or look an ill
thing of his enemy's daughter. Once, indeed, when Melia Ross was drawing
on a dirty imagination with Maggie for subject, M'Adam shut her up with:
"Ye're a maist amazin' big liar, Melia Ross."

Yet, though for the daughter he had now no evil thought, his hatred for
the father had never been so uncompromising.

He grew reckless in his assertions. His life was one long threat against
James Moore's. Now he openly stated his conviction that, on the eventful
night of the fight, James Moore, with object easily discernible, had
egged David on to murder him.

"Then why don't yo' go and tell him so, yo' muckle liar?" roared Tammas
at last, enraged to madness.

"I will!" said M'Adam. And he did.

* * * * *

It was on the day preceding the great summer sheep fair at Grammoch-town
that he fulfilled his vow.

That is always a big field-day at Kenmuir; and on this occasion James
Moore and Owd Bob had been up and working on the Pike from the rising of
the sun. Throughout the straggling lands of Kenmuir the Master went
with his untiring adjutant, rounding up, cutting out, drafting. It was
already noon when the flock started from the yard.

On the gate by the stile, as the party came up, sat M'Adam.

"I've a word to say to you, James Moore," he announced, as the Master
approached.

"Say it then, and quick. I've no time to stand gossipin' here, if yo'
have," said the Master.

M'Adam strained forward till he nearly toppled off the gate.

"Queer thing, James Moore, you should be the only one to escape this
Killer."

"Yo' forget yoursel', M'Adam."

"Ay, there's me," acquiesced the little man. "But you--hoo d'yo' 'count
for _your_ luck?"

James Moore swung round and pointed proudly at the gray dog, now
patrolling round the flock.

"There's my luck!" he said.

M'Adam laughed unpleasantly.

"So I thought," he said, "so I thought! And I s'pose ye're thinkin' that
yer luck," nodding at the gray dog, "will win you the Cup for certain a
month hence."

"I hope so!" said the Master.

"Strange if he should not after all," mused the little man.

James Moore eyed him suspiciously. "What d'yo' mean?" he asked sternly.
M'Adam shrugged his shoulders. "There's mony a slip 'twixt Cup and lip,
that's a'. I was thinkin' some mischance might come to him."