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For the rest, M'Adam would never have won over the sheep-infested marches alone with his convoy had it not been for the help of old Saunderson and Shep, who caught him on the way and aided him. It was in a very wrathful mood that on his way home he turned into the Dalesman's Daughter in Silverdale.
"Found him in ma stockin' on ma birthday. A present from ma leetle David for his auld dad, I doot." "So do I," said Tammas, and was seized with sudden spasm of seemingly causeless merriment. For looking up as M'Adam was speaking, he had caught a glimpse of a boy's fair head, peering cautiously round the cow-shed, and, behind, the flutter of short petticoats.
IN the village even the Black Killer and the murder on the Screes were forgotten in this new sensation. The mystery in which the affair was wrapped, and the ignorance as to all its details, served to whet the general interest. There had been a fight; M'Adam and the Terror had been mauled; and David had disappeared those were the facts. But what was the origin of the affray no one could say.
Maddox; I hae ma suspicions," the little man replied, cunningly wagging his head and giggling. But more than that they could not elicit from him. A week later, however, to the question: "And what are yo' thinkin' o' this black Killer, Mr. M'adam?" "Why black?" the little man asked earnestly; "why black mair than white or gray we'll say?"
And in front, sitting between them and the storm, was a quiet gray dog, his mouth stretched in a capacious yawn: to yawn was to win, and he won. When the worst of the uproar was over, many a glance of triumph was shot first at that one still pack, and then at M'Adam, as he waded through the disorder of huddling sheep. "And wheer's your Wullie noo?" asked Tapper scornfully.
M'Adam stooped quickly and picked up his tiny assailant; and the puppy, suspended by its neck, gurgled and slobbered; then, wriggling desperately round, made its teeth meet in its adversary's shirt. At which M'Adam shook it gently and laughed. Then he set to examining it.
But the little creature, now raised ceilingward, now dashed to the ground, held on with incomparable doggedness, till its small jaw was all bloody and muzzle wrinkled with the effort. "Ay, ay, that'll do," M'Adam interposed, irritably. The drover ceased his efforts. "Now, I'll mak' ye a last offer." He thrust his head down to a level with the other's, shooting out his neck.
I niver bore wi' him, and niver tried to. And in the end I drove him by persecution to try and murder me. Then maybe she'll look at yo' yo' best ken hoo and she'll say, 'Adam, Adam! is this what I deserved fra yo'?" The gentle, implacable voice ceased. The girl turned and slipped softly out of the room; and M'Adam was left alone to his thoughts and his dead wife's memory.
The little man rose to his feet and flung the photograph from him. Red Wull pounced upon it; but M'Adam leapt at him as he mouthed it. "Git awa', ye devil!" he screamed; and, picking it up, stroked it lovingly with trembling fingers. "Maither and father baith!" How had he fulfilled his love's last wish? How! "Oh God!
While over the yard-wall was now a little cluster of heads: 'Enry, oor Job, Maggie and David, and Vi'let Thornton, the dairy-maid. Straight on to the plank-bridge galloped Owd Bob. In the middle he halted, leant over, and dropped his prisoner; who fell with a cool plop into the running water beneath. Another moment and M'Adam had reached the bank of the stream.
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