Bob, son of Battle . its revelry the sound of their coming. Go they stole on, on hands and knees, with heartsaghast and fluttering breath; until, of a sudden, in a lullof wind, they could hear, right before them, the smack andslobber of bloody lips, chewing their bloody meal. Say thy prayers, Red Wull. Thy last minutes come \muttered the Master, rising to his knees. Then, in An-drews ear: When I rush, lad, follow! For he thoughtwhen the moon rose, to jump in on the great dog, and,surprising him as he lay gorged and unsuspicious, to dealhim one terrible swashing blow, and end forever the lawles


Bob, son of Battle . its revelry the sound of their coming. Go they stole on, on hands and knees, with heartsaghast and fluttering breath; until, of a sudden, in a lullof wind, they could hear, right before them, the smack andslobber of bloody lips, chewing their bloody meal. Say thy prayers, Red Wull. Thy last minutes come \muttered the Master, rising to his knees. Then, in An-drews ear: When I rush, lad, follow! For he thoughtwhen the moon rose, to jump in on the great dog, and,surprising him as he lay gorged and unsuspicious, to dealhim one terrible swashing blow, and end forever the lawlessdoings of the Tailless Tyke. The moon flung off its veil of cloud. White and cold,it stared down into the Devils Bowl; on murderer andmurdered. Within a hands cast of the avengers of blood humpedthe black boulder. On the border of its shadow lay a deadsheep; and standing beside the body, his coat all ruffledby the hand of the storm—Owd Bob—Owd Bob oSenmuir. Then the light went in, and darkness covered the CHAPTER XXIX THE DEVILS BOWL IT WAS Owd Bob. There could be no mistaking. Inthe wide world there was but one Owd Bob o silver moon gleamed down on the dark head andrough gray coat, and lit the white escutcheon on his chest. And in the darkness James Moore was lying with hisface pressed downward that he might not see. Once he raised himself on his arms; his eyes were shutand face uplifted, like a blind man praying. He passed aweary hand across his brow; his head dropped again;and he moaned and moaned like a man in everlastingpain. Then the darkness lifted a moment, and he stole afurtive glance, like a murderers at the gallows-tree, at thescene in front. It was no dream; clear and cruel in the moonlight thehumpbacked boulder; the dead sheep; and that grayfigure, beautiful, motionless, damned for all eternity. 285 286 THE DEVILS BOWL The Master turned his face and looked at Andrew, adumb, pitiful entreaty in his eyes; but in the boys white,horror-stricken


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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1890, bookidbobsonofbatt, bookyear1898