“Here! hi, Scoodrach!” cried Max; and the lad looked at him scowling. “Kenneth has sent me to fetch—”
Scoodrach sprang up, with his whole manner changed.
“She’s sent her to fetch me?” he cried eagerly.
“No, no; to fetch—the dogs.”
A savage look of anger flashed into the lad’s face, and he stood with his hands working.
“Na, na,” he cried hoarsely; “it’s a lee! Ta young Chief sent her to fetch his gillie, and she’s trying to keep her awa’!”
“I told you the truth,” cried Max, almost as angrily. “Here, Sneeshing, Sneeshing!” he cried, as he caught sight of the dog a hundred yards away; and the quaint-looking little terrier pricked up his ears, looked round, caught sight of the two boys, and came helter-skelter towards them.
The effect of this dash was for a sharp bark to be heard, and Dirk came into view, with his plume-like tail waving; while, before he was half-way toward Max, Bruce came, making greyhound-like bounds and evidently in a great state of excitement.
“Good dogs! good dogs, then!” cried Max, patting them; but they received his caresses in rather a cool manner, and Bruce, who seemed disappointed, was about to turn off and go, when Max bent over Sneeshing.
The dog looked up at him curiously.