no longer, but hurried down the side street by
which the north road leaves the town.

He had crossed the bridge of Lochan and was climbing the steep ascent
which led to the heathy plateau separating that stream from the Garple
before he had got his mind quite clear on the case. FIRST, Loudon was
in the plot, whatever it was; responsible for the details of the girl's
imprisonment, but not the main author. That must be the Unknown who was
still to come, from whom Spidel took his orders. Dobson was probably
Loudon's special henchman, working directly under him. SECONDLY, the
immediate object had been the jewels, and they were happily safe in the
vaults of the incorruptible Mackintosh. But, THIRD--and this only on
Saskia's evidences--the worst danger to her began with the arrival of
the Unknown. What could that be? Probably, kidnapping. He was
prepared to believe anything of people like Bolsheviks. And, FOURTH,
this danger was due within the next day or two. Loudon had been quite
willing to let him into the house and to sack all the watchers within a
week from that date. The natural and right thing was to summon the aid
of the law, but, FIFTH, that would be a slow business with Loudon able
to put spokes in the wheels and befog the authorities, and the mischief
would be done before a single policeman showed his face in Dalquharter.
Therefore, SIXTH, he and Heritage must hold the fort in the meantime,
and he would send a wire to his lawyer, Mr. Caw, to get to work with
the constabulary. SEVENTH, he himself was probably free from suspicion
in both Loudon's and Dobson's minds as a harmless fool. But that
freedom would not survive his reappearance in Dalquharter. He could
say, to be sure, that he had come back to see his auntie, but that
would not satisfy the watchers, since, so far as they knew, he was the
only man outside the gang who was aware that people were dwelling in
the House. They would not tolerate his presence in the neighbourhood.

He formulated his conclusions as if it were an ordinary business deal,
and rather to his surprise was not conscious of any fear. As he pulled
together the belt of his waterproof he felt the reassuring bulges in
its pockets which were his pistol and cartridges. He reflected that it
must be very difficult to miss with a pistol if you fired it at, say,
three yards, and if there was to be shooting that would be his range.
Mr. McCunn had stumbled on the precious truth that the best w