perilous Cowgate, and inquired in every place where it might be
possible for such a timid old shepherd to be known. But there! As
well look for a burr thistle in a bin of oats, as look for a
human atom in the Cowgate and the wynds "juist aff."

"Weel, noo, ye couldna hae dune aething wi' the auld body, ava,
gin he wouldna gang to the infairmary." The caretaker was trying
to console the self-accusing man.

"Could I no'? Ye dinna ken me as weel as ye micht." The disgusted
landlord tumbled into broad Scotch. "Gie me to do it ance mair,
an' I'd chairge Auld Jock wi' thievin' ma siller, wi' a wink o'
the ee at the police to mak' them ken I was leein'; an' syne
they'd hae hustled 'im aff, willy-nilly, to a snug bed."

The energetic little man looked so entirely capable of any daring
deed that he fired the caretaker into enthusiastic search for
Bobby. It was not entirely dark, for the sky was studded with
stars, snow lay in broad patches on the slope, and all about the
lower end of the kirkyard supper candles burned at every rear
window of the tall tenements.

The two men searched among the near-by slabs and table-tombs and
scattered thorn bushes. They circled the monument to all the
martyrs who had died heroically, in the Grassmarket and
elsewhere, for their faith. They hunted in the deep shadows of
the buttresses along the side of the auld kirk and among the
pillars of the octagonal portico to the new. At the rear of the
long, low building, that was clumsily partitioned across for two
pulpits, stood the ornate tomb of "Bluidy" McKenzie. But Bobby