‘Yes, sir. He kept the high-road, by the Knowe and Townhead, but they’d seen nothing o’ our man, and there was nobody on the road as far as where the drove track runs in. Watson’s gone back to watch by the bothy near the brig.’
‘Then it looks as if the fellow was hiding between where he was seen and here, but it’s unlikely that a wounded man would lie out on the moors on a night like this,’ Jardine said thoughtfully, and turned to Janet. ‘He might have crept into your byre or barn. Did you hear anything suspicious?’
Moir was sensible of keen tension as he glanced at his wife, but her face was calm.
‘He couldna have creepit into ony place withoot Rab, the collie, hearing him.’
‘The dog was outside and he’ll hardly let a stranger set foot in the loaning,’ Euphie supported her.
‘That’s true, sir,’ one of the men remarked. ‘He cam’ oot to meet us and it was no’ that easy getting by.’
Jardine hesitated, and Moir felt his heart beat as he glanced at Jimmy’s coat, which hung in plain view with the wet sleeve suspiciously torn. Nobody, however, seemed to have noticed it, and when Janet urged them Jardine and his scouts sat down to supper. When the meal was over and they were going, Moir said:
‘I’ll hae to drive a son o’ mine, frae Glasgow, doon the water to catch the early train.’
‘Then Jimmy’s back?’ said Jardine, who knew something about the lad.
‘He got hame late and needit a few ’oors’ sleep before starting again,’ Janet explained.