ne at all, Miss McLeod," the specialist asked,
"who would be likely to steal Sholto?"
"I can't," the girl replied helplessly. "I wish I could."
"The two classes of people we want to find," I suggested, "are those
who like Sholto so much as to be prepared to steal him, and those who
dislike him so much as to be anxious to destroy him."
"You don't think they'll hurt him," she cried, anxiously. "Poor old
fellow! It's bad enough his being blind; but I would rather know he
was dead than being ill-treated."
"It's much more likely to be the act of some very human person who
covets his neighbour's goods," said Garnesk, reassuringly. "But, at
the same time, we must not overlook the other possibility. Can you
remember anyone who does dislike the dog?"
"Only one," said Myra, thoughtfully, "and I don't think he could have
done it. He has a small croft away up above Tor Beag, and Sholto and
I were up there one day; but it's months ago. Sholto went nosing round
as usual, and the man came out and got very excited in Gaelic--and you
know how excited one can be in that language. He was very rude to me
about the dog, and it made me rather suspicious. I told daddy about it
after."
"Yes, and I hope you won't go wandering about so far from home
without saying where you're going in future, my dear; because----"
said the old man, and pulled himself up in pained confusion as he
realised the tragic significance of his words.
"Some sort of poacher, perhaps," suggested Garnesk, coming quickly to
the rescue.
"An illicit whisky still somewhere about, more likely," Myra replied.
And as she could think of no other likely person, and the crofter
seemed out of the question, we had to confess ourselves puzzled. I had
hoped that Myra would have been able to give us some clue with which
we could have satisfied her, while we kept our suspicions to
ourselves. Then we left Myra with the specialist, who made a temporary
examination. In twenty minutes he assured us that he could make
nothing of the case, but that he was willing to stake his reputation
that there was nothing organically wrong; and he gave us, so far as he
dared, distinct reason to hope that she would eventually regain full
possession of her lost faculty. So, after general rejoicings all
round, in which I quite forgot the mystery of the man who stole the
dog, I went to bed feeling ten years younger, and slept like a top.
When I awoke in the morning much of my elation of spiri
|