brought fresh proofs of the prowess of Owd Bob. Tammas, whose
stock of yarns anent Rex son of Rally had after forty years' hard
wear begun to pall on the loyal ears of even old Jonas, found no
lack of new material now. In the Dalesman's Daughter in
Silverdale and in the Border Ram at Grammoch-town, each
succeeding market day brought some fresh tale. Men told how
the gray dog had outdone Gypsy Jack, the sheep-sneak; how he
had cut out a Kenmuir shearling from the very centre of
Londesley's pack; and a thousand like stories.

The Gray Dogs of Kenmuir have always been equally heroes and
favorites in the Dale-land. And the confidence of the Dalesmen in
Owd Bob was now invincible. Sometimes on market days he
would execute some unaccotmtable maneuvre, and .. strange
shepherd would ask: "What's the gray dog at?" To which the
nearest Dalesman would reply: "Nay, I canno tell ye! But he's reet
enough. Yon's Owd Bob o' Kenmuir."

Whereon the stranger would prick his ears and watch with close
attention.

"Yon's Owd Bob o' Kenmuir, is he?" he would say; for already
among the faculty the name was becoming known. And never in
such a case did the young dog fail to justify the faith of his
supporters.

It came, therefore, as a keen disappointment to every Dalesman,
from Herbert Trotter, Secretary of the Trials, to little Billy
Thornton, when the Master persisted in his decision not to run the
dog for the Cup in the approaching Dale Trials; and that though