burgh.

Next morning we travelled again to Dalmeny, and in the grey mist hired a
boat at the slippery landing-stage opposite the Hawes Inn. Refusing the
assistance of the boatman, Ray took off his coat and commenced to row to
the opposite shore. His action surprised me, as we could easily have
gone over by the steam ferry. It was high tide, and by degrees as we got
into mid-stream he allowed the boat to drift towards one of the sets of
four circular caissons in which the foundations of the gigantic bridge,
with its bewildering masses of ironwork, were set.

Against one of them the boat drifted, and he placed his hand upon the
masonry to prevent a collision. As he did so, his keen eyes discerned
something which caused him to pull back and examine it more closely.

As he did so, a train rumbled high above us.

With curiosity I followed the direction of his gaze, but what I saw
conveyed to me nothing. About two feet above high-water mark a stout
iron staple had been fixed into the concrete. To it was attached a piece
of thin wire rope descending into the water, apparently used by the
bridge workmen to moor their boats.

Having carefully examined the staple, Ray rowed round to the other three
caissons, a few feet distant, but there discovered nothing. Afterwards,
with my assistance, he pulled back to the Dalmeny side, where, at the
base of one of the high square brick piers of the shore end of the
bridge, the third from the land, he found a similar staple driven. Then
we returned to the pier and crossed to North Queensferry.

My friend's next move was to enter the post office and there write upon
a yellow form a telegram in German addressed to a person in Berlin. This
he handed to the pleasant-faced Scotch postmistress, who, on seeing it
in a strange language, regarded him quickly.

Ray remarked that he supposed she did not often transmit messages in
German, whereupon she said:

"Oh, yes. The German waiter up at the Golf Club sends them sometimes."

"Is he the only German you have in North Queensferry?" he inquired
casually.

"I've never heard of any other, sir," replied the good woman, and then
we both wished her good-day and left.

Our next action was to climb the Ferry Hill at the back of the post
office, passing the station and Carlingnose Fort, until we reached the
club-house of the Dunfermline Golf Club, which commands a fine prospect
over the wide estuary eastward.

No one appeared to be playing that mo