“I--I--dinna ken.” Her voice was unmanageable. She had left to her only the tenement-bred instinct of concealment of any and all facts from an officer of the law. “Ye dinna ken! Maister Traill said i' the coort a' the bairns aboot kenned the dog. Was he leein'?” The question stung her into angry admission. “He wadna be leein'. But--but--the bittie--dog--isna here noo.” “Syne, whaur is he? Oot wi' it!” “I--dinna--ken!” She cowered in abject fear against the wall. She could not know that this officer was suffering a bad attack of shame for his shabby part in the affair. Satisfied that the little dog really did live in the kirkyard, he turned back to the bridge. When Tammy came out presently he found Ailie crumpled up in a limp little heap in the gateway alcove. In a moment the tale of Bobby's peril was told. The laddie dropped his books and his crutches on the pavement, and his head in his helpless arms, and cried. He had small faith in Ailie's suddenly conceived plan to collect the seven shullings among the dwellers in the tenements. “Do ye ken hoo muckle siller seven shullin's wad be? It's auchty-fower pennies, a hundred an' saxty-aucht ha'pennies an'--an'--I canna think hoo mony farthings.” “I dinna care a bittie bit. There's mair folk aroond the kirkyaird than there's farthings i' twa, three times seven shullin's. An' maist ilka body kens Bobby. An' we hae a saxpence atween us noo.” “Maister Brown wad gie us anither saxpence gin he had ane,” Tammy suggested, wistfully. “Nae, he's fair ill. Gin he doesna keep canny it wull gang to 'is heart. He'd be aff 'is heid, aboot Bobby. Oh, Tammy, Maister Traill gaed to gie 'im up! He was wearin' a' 'is gude claes an' a lang face, to gang to Bobby's buryin'.” This dreadful thought spurred them to instant action. By way of mutual encouragement they went together through the sculptured doorway, that bore the arms of the ancient guild of the candlemakers on the lintel, and into the carting office on the front. “Do ye ken Greyfriars Bobby?” Tammy asked, timidly, of the man in charge. He glowered at the laddie and shook his head. “Havers, mannie; there's no' onybody named for an auld buryin' groond.”