“Ma friend lied; it's his way,” M'Adam replied. “I'm willin' to part wi' him,” the other pursued. The little man yawned. “Weel, I'll tak' him to oblige ye,” he said indifferently. The drover rose to his feet. “It's givin' 'im ye, fair givin' im ye, mind! But I'll do it!”--he smacked a great fist into a hollow palm. “Ye may have the dog for a pun'--I'll only ask _you_ a pun',” and he walked away to the window. M'Adam drew back, the better to scan his would-be benefactor; his lower jaw dropped, and he eyed the stranger with a drolly sarcastic air. “A poun', man! A pouxi'--for yon noble dorg!” he pointed a crooked forefinger at the little creature, whose scowling mask peered from beneath the chair. “Man, I couldna do it. Na, na; ma conscience wadna permit me. 'Twad be fair robbin' ye. Ah, ye Englishmen!” he spoke half to himself, and sadly, as if deploring the unhappy accident of his nationality; “it's yer grand, open-hairted generosity that grips a puir Scotsman by the throat. A poun'! and for yon!” He wagged his head mournfully, cocking it sideways the better to scan his subject. “Take him or leave him,” ordered the drover truculently, still gazing out of the window. “Wi' yer permission I'll leave him,” M'Adam answered meekly. “I'm short o' the ready,” the big man pursued, “or I wouldna part with him. Could I bide me time there's many'd be glad to give me a tenner for one o' that bree--” he caught himself up hastily--“for a dog sic as that.” “And yet ye offer him me for a poun'! Noble indeed!” Nevertheless the little man had pricked his ears at the other's slip and quick correction. Again he approached the puppy, dangling his coat before him to protect his ankles; and again that wee wild beast sprang out, seized the coat in its small jaw, and worried it savagely. 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. Apparently some six weeks old; a tawny coat, fiery eyes, a square head with small, cropped ears, and a comparatively immense jaw; the whole giving promise of great strength, if little beauty. And this effect was enhanced by the manner of its docking. For the miserable relic of a tail, yet raw, looked little more than a red button adhering to its wearer's stern. M'Adam's inspection was as minute as it was apparently absorbing; he omitted nothing from the square muzzle to the lozenge-like scut. And every now and then he threw a quick glance at the man at the window, who was watching the careful scrutiny a thought uneasily. “Ye've cut him short,” he said at length, swinging round on the drover. “Ay; strengthens their backs,” the big man answered with averted gaze. M'Adam's chin went up in the air; his mouth partly opened and his eyelids partly closed as he eyed his informant. “Oh, ay,” he said.