John MacNab by John Buchan Read Free Book Online Page A

that. There was plenty o’ times when him and me were out that it wasna possible to use the rifle.’
    â€˜We can’t compete there,’ said Lamancha dolefully.
    â€˜But I wad not say it was impossible,’ Iithgow added more briskly. ‘It will want a deal o’ thinkin’. It might be done on Haripol – I wadna say but it might be done, but yon auld man at Glenraden will be ill to get the better of. And the Strathlarrig water is an easy water to watch. Ye’ll be for only takin’ shootable beasts, like Mr Tarras, and ye’ll not be wantin’ to cleek a fish? It might be not so hard to get a wee staggie, or to sniggle a salmon in one of the deep pots.’
    â€˜No, we must play the game by the rules. We’re not poachers.’
    â€˜Then it will be verra, verra deeficult.’
    â€˜You understand,’ put in Lamancha, ‘that, though we count on your help, you yourself mustn’t be suspected. It’s as important for you as for us to avoid suspicion, for if they got you it would implicate your master, and that mustn’t happen on any account.’
    â€˜I ken that. It will be verra, verra deeficult. I said the odds were a thousand to one, but I think ten thousand wad be liker the thing.’
    â€˜Well, go and sleep on it, and we’ll see you in the morning. An’ tell your wife I don’t want any boys comin’ up to the house with fish. She must send elsewhere and buy ‘em. Good-night, Wattie.’
    When Iithgow had withdrawn the four men sat silent and meditative in their chairs. One would rise now and then and knock out his pipe, but scarcely a word was spoken. It is to be presumed that the thoughts of each were on the task in hand, but Leithen’s must have wandered. ‘By the way, Archie,’ he said, ‘I saw a very pretty girl on the road this afternoon, riding a yellow pony. Who could she be?’
    â€˜Lord knows!’ said Archie. ‘Probably one of the Raden girls. I haven’t seen ‘em yet.’
    When the clock struck eleven Sir Archie arose and ordered his guests to bed.
    â€˜I think my toothache is gone,’ he said, switching off his turban and revealing a ruffled head and scarlet cheek. Then he muttered: ‘A thousand to one! Ten thousand to one! It can’t be done, you know. We’ve got to find some way of shortenin’ the odds!’

THREE
Reconnaissance
    Rosy-fingered Dawn, when, attended by mild airs and a sky of Italian blue, she looked in at Crask next morning, found two members of the household already astir. Mr Palliser-Yeates, coerced by Wattie Iithgow, was starting with bitter self-condemnation to prospect what his guide called ‘the yont side o’ Glenraden’. A quarter of an hour later Lamancha, armed with a map and a telescope, departed alone for the crest of hill behind which lay the Haripol forest. After that peace fell on the place, and it was not till the hour of ten that Sir Edward Leithen descended for breakfast.
    The glory of the morning had against his convictions made him cheerful. The place smelt so good within and without, Mrs Lithgow’s scones were so succulent, the bacon so crisp, and Archie, healed of the toothache, was so preposterous and mirthful a figure that Leithen found a faint zest again in the contemplation of the future. When Archie advised him to get busy about the Larrig he did not complain, but accompanied his host to the gun-room, where he studied attentively on a large-scale map the three miles of the stream in the tenancy of Mr Bandicott.
    It seemed to him that he had better equip himself for the part by some simple disguise, so, declining Archie’s suggestion of a kilt, he returned to his bedroom to refit. Obviously the best line was the tourist, so he donned a stiff white shirt and a stiff dress collar with a tartan bow-tie contributed from Sime’s wardrobe. Light brown boots in which he had travelled from London