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Updated: June 13, 2025
Parson Leggy, who was reckoned the best judge of a sheep or sheep-dog 'twixt Tyne and Tweed, summed him up in the one word "Genius." And James Moore himself, cautious man, was more than pleased. In the village, the Dalesmen, who took a personal pride in the Gray Dogs of Kenmuir, began to nod sage heads when "oor" Bob was mentioned.
"Ma wee Wull's bin stolen while I was ben your hoose, James Moore!" "Yo' munna say that, ma mon. No robbin' at Kenmuir," the Master answered sternly. "Then where is he? It's for you to say." "I've ma own idee, I 'aye," Sam'l announced opportunely, pig-bucket uplifted. M'Adam turned on him. "What, man? What is it?"
It became an institution for the boy to call every morning at Kenmuir, and trot off to the village school with Maggie Moore. And soon the lad came to look on Kenmuir as his true home, and James and Elizabeth Moore as his real parents. His greatest happiness was to be away from the Grange.
It was the day of the squire's annual dinner to his tenants. The two, however, were not allowed to start upon their way until they had undergone a critical inspection by Maggie; for the girl liked her mankind to do honor to Kenmuir on these occasions.
"Then why don't yo' go and tell him so, yo' muckle liar?" roared Tammas at last, enraged to madness. "I will!" said M'Adam. And he did. It was on the day preceding the great summer sheep fair at Grammoch-town that he fulfilled his vow. That is always a big field-day at Kenmuir; and on this occasion James Moore and Owd Bob had been up and working on the Pike from the rising of the sun.
And happen yo'll meet Th' Owd Un on the road. Good-day to you, sir, good-day." So you go as he has bidden you; across the stream, skirting the How, over the gulf and up the hill again. On the way, as the Master has foretold, you come upon an old gray dog, trotting soberly along. Th' Owd Un, indeed, seems to spend the evening of his life going thus between Kenmuir and the Grange.
"If he was poisoned, and noo I think aiblins he was, he didna pick it up at Kenmuir, I tell ye that," he said, and marched out of the room. In the mean time the Black Killer pursued his bloody trade unchecked. The public, always greedy of a new sensation, took up the matter. In several of the great dailies, articles on the "Agrarian Outrages" appeared, followed by lengthy correspondence.
"We'll warm ye, we'll teach ye." At the edge of the Stony Bottom he, as always, left Red Wull. Crossing it himself, and rounding Langholm How, he espied James Moore, David, and Owd Bob walking away from him and in the direction of Kenmuir. The gray dog and David were playing together, wrestling, racing, and rolling. The boy had never a thought for his father.
On these occasions he passed discreetly by; for, though he was no coward, yet it is bad, single-handed, to attack a Gray Dog of Kenmuir; while the dog trotted soberly on his way, only a steely glint in the big gray eyes betraying his knowledge of the presence of his foe.
"Yo'll not live to be a hunderd, Tammas Thornton, nor near it," said Sam'l brutally. "I'll live as long as some, I warrant," the old man replied with spirit. "I'll live to see Cup back i' Kenmuir, as I said afore." "If yo' do," the other declared with emphasis, "Sam'l Todd niver spake a true word. Nay, nay, lad; yo're owd, yo're wambly, your time's near run or I'm the more mistook."
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