THE "WHUSTLER " 269 



Ronald pulled the boat ashore, leaped 

 frantically out, squatted down in the 

 mouth of the burn, took a knife from 

 his pocket, and deliberately cut my 

 line. 



"Nabbit, nabbit!" he cried. "She's 

 nailed at last 1 " 



" Is he ? " I asked, nigh dumb with 

 doubt and amazement. 



" Ou, ay," said Ronald in a tone of 

 triumphant certitude. "The Minister 

 couldna' find the gaff — I didna' like 

 to tell ye that a' at aince. But the 

 salmon's richt noo. Ye see, there's a 

 high waterfall no' twenty yairds up 

 among the trees there. She canna' get 

 past that. Neither can she get doon tae 

 the loch again while I sit here, and that 

 I'll do a' nicht. So she'll ha'e to stop in 

 the pool. If the Minister's man will 

 bring me a hay-fork at the scriegh o' day 

 — it winna' be long noo — I'll bring the 

 whustler to the Big Hoose afore break- 

 fast time." 



I pondered while lighting my pipe. 



