THE MILLER IN LUCK 167 



hope of coming on the tracks. Most carefully 

 the eager eyes examined every foot of sand visible 

 between the rowan-trees as, slowly on hands and 

 knees, the miller advanced towards the bend 

 which commands the likeliest spot of all. There 

 twenty feet below he saw a salmon lying and, 

 with the same glance, marked the tracks beside it. 

 The descent of the scarp was nearly as perilous as 

 the crossing of the current, but he accomplished 

 both without mishap, and a few seconds later 

 was crouching beside the footprints. 



1 By the life of me they're his, and not many 

 hours old.' 



His face, no less than his agitated voice, 

 showed the wild excitement that possessed him 

 as he rose and made down the wood as fast as 

 he could lay foot to ground. When he reached 

 the mill he was almost at his last gasp, but he 

 bridled and mounted the pony, which he urged 

 to a gallop through the open gate and up the 

 stony lane. He was on his way to the squire. 



As he rode through the hamlet, where the 

 clatter of the hoofs brought the villagers to door 

 and window, his cries of ' Tracked un !' roused 

 man and boy to a fever of excitement, and sent 

 the sexton in hot haste to the belfry to apprize 

 the country-side. The miller, however, leaving 



