t had
evaporated, and I felt again the oppression of surrounding tragedy. I
got up immediately--it was just after six--dressed, and went down
to bathe. I was strolling down the drive, with a towel round my
neck, when Garnesk put his head out of his window and shouted that
he would join me. The tide being in, we saved ourselves a walk to
the diving-rock, as the point was called, and bathed from the
landing-stage. Refreshed by the swim, we determined to scour the
country-side for any tracks of the thief.

"What beats me is how anybody in a place like this, where everybody
for miles round knows more about you than you do yourself, could
get rid of an enormous beast like Sholto. He was big even for a Dane,
and his weight must have been tremendous when he was drugged," said
Garnesk, as we walked up the beach path. "Have you ever tried to carry
a man who's fainted?"

"I have," I answered with feeling, "and I quite agree with you. If the
thief wanted to do away with the dog the beast's body is probably
somewhere near."

"What about the river?" my companion suggested.

"More likely the loch," I decided, "or the sea. But that would mean
a boat, because it would have to be buried in deep water, or the
body would be washed up again on the rocks, even with a heavy weight
attached. There are many deep pools in the river, but they are
constantly fished, and that would lead to eventual detection. We are
dealing with a man who knows his way about. It might be the loch or
one of the burns, easily."

Accordingly we decided to try the loch first; but though we followed
the path from the house, carefully studying the ground every foot of
the way, and examined the banks equally carefully, we were forced to
the conclusion that we were on the wrong scent. Then we came down one
of the burns that runs from the loch to the sea, and met with the same
result.

"We'll walk along the beach and go up the next stream," Garnesk
suggested. "Hullo," he exclaimed suddenly, as we clambered over the
huge rocks into a tiny cove, "there's been a boat in here!"

I looked at the shingly beach, and saw the keel-marks of a boat and
the footprints of its occupants in the middle of the cove. We went up
gingerly, for fear of disturbing the ground of our investigations. I
looked at the marks, and pondered them for a moment. By this time my
senses were wide awake.

"What do you make of it?" the oculist asked.

"Well," I replied, with an apologetic laugh,