ground.

Then, in bantering tones: "Ah, but ye shouldna covet--

"He'll ha' no need to covet it long, I can tell yo'," interposed
Tammas's shrill accents.

"And why for no?"

"Becos next year he'll win it fra yo'. Oor Bob'll win it, little mon.
Why? thot's why."

The retort was greeted with a yell of applause from the sprinkling
of Dalesmen in the crowd.

But M'Adam swaggered away into the tent, his head up, the Cup
beneath his arm, and Red Wull guarding his rear.

"First of a' ye'll ha' to beat Adam M'Adam and his Red Wull!" he
cried back proudly.

Chapter XI. OOR BOB

M'ADAM'S pride in the great Cup that now graced his kitchen was
supreme. It stood alone in the very centre of the mantelpiece, just
below the old bell-mouthed blunderbuss that hung upon the wall.
The only ornament in the bare room, it shone out in its silvery
chastity like the moon in a gloomy sky.

Por once the little man was content. Since his mother's death