began a romp such as they often had indulged in behind the byre
on a quiet, Sabbath afternoon.

They had learned to play there like two well-brought-up
children, in pantomime, so as not to scandalize pious
countryfolk. Now, in obedience to a gesture, a nod, a lifted
eyebrow, Bobby went through all his pretty tricks, and showed how
far his serious education had progressed.. He rolled over and
over, begged, vaulted the low hurdle of his master's arm, and
played "deid." He scampered madly over imaginary pastures; ran,
straight as a string, along a stone wall; scrambled under a
thorny hedge; chased rabbits, and dug foxes out of holes; swam a
burn, flushed feeding curlews, and "froze" beside a rat-hole.
When the excitement was at its height and the little dog was
bursting with exuberance, Auld Jock forgot his caution. Holding
his bonnet just out of reach, he cried aloud:

"Loup, Bobby!"

Bobby jumped for the bonnet, missed it, jumped again and
barked-the high-pitched, penetrating yelp of the terrier.

Instantly their little house of joy tumbled about their ears.
There was a pounding on the thin partition wall, an oath and a
shout "Whaur's the deil o' a dog?" Bobby flew at the insulting
clamor, but Auld Jock dragged him back roughly. In a voice made
harsh by fear for his little pet, he commanded:

"Haud yer gab or they'll hae ye oot."