defiance at the court. The lads came near rolling down the slope
with laughter, and they gave three cheers for the little hero.
Sandy remarked, "Ye wadna think, noo, sic a sonsie doggie wad be
leevin' i' the murky auld kirkyaird."

Bobby had learned the lay of the tipped-up and scooped-out and
jumbled auld toon, and he led the way homeward along the southern
outskirts of the city. He turned up Nicolson Street, that ran
northward, past the University and the old infirmary. To get into
Greyfriars Place from the east at that time one had to descend to
the Cowgate and climb out again. Bobby darted down the first of
the narrow wynds.

Suddenly he turned 'round and 'round in bewilderment, then shot
through a sculptured door way, into a well-like court, and up a
flight of stone stairs. The slamming of a shutter overhead
shocked him to a standstill on the landing and sent him dropping
slowly down again. What memories surged back to his little
brain, what grief gripped his heart, as he stood trembling on a
certain spot in the pavement where once a long deal box had
rested!

"What ails the bittie dog?" There was something here that sobered
the thoughtless boys. "Come awa', Bobby!"

At that he came obediently enough. But he trotted down the very
middle of the wynd, head and tail low, and turned unheeding into
the Saturday-evening roar of the Cowgate. He refused to follow
them up the rise between St. Magdalen's Chapel and the eastern
parapet of the bridge, but kept to his way under the middle arch