“The dog’s play,” said The Mackhai quietly. “I don’t think he would bite.”
“No, sir, I hope not,” faltered Max, as he tried to go on with his breakfast; “but it felt as if he was going to, and it was startling.”
“Yes, of course!” said The Mackhai absently, as he took up his paper, and the breakfast went on to the end, but to Max it was anything but a pleasant meal.
Chapter Fourteen.
Macrimmon’s Lament.
“No, sir, I’ve asked everybody, and no one has seen them since Bridget put them to dry. She says they were in front of the fire when she went to bed.”
This was Grant’s reply to Max’s earnest prayer that he would try and find his trousers.
“Do you think they could have been stolen?” said Max doubtingly.