THE "WHUSTLER" 261 



" Ay," said Ronald. " D'ye no' ken 

 whaur ye are ? Ye're no' on ordnar' 

 warldly land at a'. Ye're on a sma' 

 island, the buryin'-grun' of the Stewarts 

 of Glenbuckie for mair centuries than 

 onybody can remember." 



" This is the Inch, then ? " 



"The same. And no' a canny place 

 ava'. There's naething but wraiths here, 

 and I'll be glad when we're weel awa' 

 frae 't. Hoo's the salmon, sir ? " 



"Very well, thank you, Ronald. We 

 might get him now if we had a gaff. 

 Just step into the boat and ask the 

 Minister to lend us his." 



Ronald obeyed with alacrity. He had 

 not far to go. This being the Inch, we 

 were only two or three hundred yards 

 from the north-east corner of the loch, 

 and not much more from the Kirkton, a 

 hamlet close by the manse. 



The boat gone, the whustler had a 

 chance. If only he had made a rush 

 outwards, he could have snapped the 

 tackle and been free. He did not think 



