e can't actually suspect anybody, nevertheless," said I. "On the one
hand, it may have been an ordinary, uninteresting thief who stole the
dog with a view to selling him again. On the other hand----"

"Well," said Hilderman with interest, as I paused, "on the other
hand?"

"It may have been someone who had other reasons for stealing him," I
concluded.

"I don't quite follow you."

"Ewart means," said Garnesk, cutting in eagerly, evidently fearing
that I was about to make some indiscreet disclosure of our suspicions,
though I had not the slightest intention of doing so, "Ewart means
that it may have been someone who regarded the dog as a personal
enemy. Miss McLeod informs us that there was a man in the hills,
ostensibly a crofter, who disliked Sholto, quite unreasonably. He
drove the dog away from his croft and was very rude to Miss McLeod
about it. She suspected an illicit still, and thought the fellow was
afraid Sholto might nose out his secret and give the show away."

"Ah!" said Hilderman. "An illicit still, eh! Where was this still, or,
rather, where was the croft?"

I remembered that Myra had told us it was somewhere up Suardalan way,
above Tor Beag, and I was just about to explain, when I felt my
friend's boot knock sharply against my ankle. Taking this as a hint
and not an accident, I promptly lied.

"It was miles away," I announced readily, "away up on The Saddle. Miss
McLeod wanders pretty far afield with Sholto at times."

"Indeed," said the American, "I should think that might be quite a
likely explanation, and rather a suitable place for a still, too. I
climbed The Saddle some months ago with an enthusiastic friend of
mine. We went by water to Invershiel, and then drove up the Glen. I
shouldn't like to walk from Invermalluch and back; there are several
mountains in between, and surely there is no road."

Evidently our shrewd companion suspected that I had either made a
mistake or deliberately told him an untruth, but I was quite ready for
him. I had no time to consider the ethics of the matter. I was out to
obey what I took to be my instructions, and obey them I did.

"Oh, there are quite a lot of ways of getting there," I replied
airily; "but perhaps the easiest would be to take the motor-boat to
Corran and walk up the Arnisdale, or follow the road to Corran and
then up the river. Miss McLeod has her own ways of getting about this
country, though, and she may even know some way of avoiding the