CHAPTER X 



TRACKED 



Day had scarcely broken when the old marsh - 

 man came bustling out of his cottage to see 

 whether the fox — as he supposed the marauder 

 to be — had carried off any of his ducks. Before 

 he had crossed the little garden, however, he 

 descried the snow- marks on the door and, from 

 their size, judged them to be made by a badger, 

 till his eyes fell on the unmistakable trail out- 

 side the gate, which placed the raiders' identity 

 beyond all possible doubt. 



* Oters ! Lor, whoever would ha' thought it V 

 And then, as he remembered that the mere was 

 frozen and the creatures shut off from the water, 

 the expression of surprise changed to one of 

 triumph, and forgetting for a moment his de- 

 crepitude, he exultingly exclaimed : ' They're 

 mine — sure as eggs, they're mine !' It was not 

 their destruction that elated him, but the pros- 

 pect — the almost certain prospect — of securing 

 their pelts, and of adding a sovereign to the 

 dwindling store in the thatch. 



131 17_2 



