Free The Lost Boy and The Gardener's Daughter by Ian Todd Page B

tae spring intae action at a moment’s notice.
      “My boy, George, gave chase this very morning, here in the grounds proper, m’lord.”
      “What?  Innes Mackay had the cheek to invade me here?  Trespass in my own wee bit of Highland heaven?”
      “Not Mackay himself, m’lord.  He’s got a lodger.  A right shifty-looking bugger if ever I saw one.”
      “And did you, Sellar?” Riddrie asked.
      “What, sir?”
      “See him?”
      “No, sir, but George spotted him up at the Culrain Burn, sitting in the sun as if he was entitled to be there.  By the time George had got a couple of the hounds out onto the grounds, he’d moved on.  They tracked him towards Inver House, sir.  He must have doubled back on them and escaped.”
      “And how do you know he’s lodging at Wester Achnahanat, Sellar?” The Duke asked, staunin up and walking across tae the window tae get a better view ae the Kyle.
      “By the time young George doubled back, the poacher’s trail had gone cold.  He took out one of the Land Rovers and headed along the road in the direction of Brae to see if he could catch him on the skyline.  He’d just turned the bend after the old schoolhouse when he caught sight of the lad entering the croft, m’lord.  My George said he was carrying two rabbits.  George drove further on and parked-up down in Kilmachalmack Farm.   After a couple of hours of waiting and watching through the binoculars, he gave up and came home, sir.”
      “Riddrie, I will not tolerate anyone entering Balblair Wood or any other parts of my estate without my explicit say-so.  I am sick of this MacKay flouting the rules.  He has been a boil on my family’s neck for generations.  I want him stopped, by fair or foul means.”
      “I could always apply for a search warrant from the Sheriff in Tain, sir?”  PC McTavish suggested, being ignored.
      “How confident are you of getting him, Sellar?”  The Duke asked.
      “Well, the Highland Games are next week.  He’ll have his orders from the butchers in already.  I don’t think he’ll go far.  He’s more than likely to stay local and take what he can from here.  He’s still got a problem with transport since we snatched his wheels and removed the rotor arm from his Landy last year.  It’s still sitting there rusting away,” Sellar said, revelling in the satisfied smiles in the room.
      “And the dog?”
      “He keeps that well under wraps, m’lord.  It never leaves the croft without him.  We nearly got it with the Irish Hounds recently.  I’m confident we’ll get it.  My boy, George, had a pop at a pup that Mackay has managed to get his hands on.  I’ve heard it’s poorly, and he can’t afford the vet’s bill, so here’s keeping our fingers crossed that it won’t survive.”
      “Yes, I’ve spoken to the vets in Bonar Bridge and Lairg, warning them that they’ve to hike the price of the treatment for the pup beyond Mackay’s reach. Hislop in Lairg put up a slight protest, but I think he got the message when I informed him that the ground his practice was sitting on belongs to the estate and what hurt the estate, would also hurt him,” Riddrie volunteered.
      “I’ll pay anyone in the district twenty pounds for either one of MacKay’s dogs, dead or alive, Mr Sellar,” The Duke said, turning fae the windae and looking at him.  
      “I would settle on the big blackie first, sir.  It will take MacKay a good six to nine months to train that young one up, if it survives.  We’ve tried leaving poisoned sheep’s liver out, shooting it and setting the Irish hounds on it.  I’m confident we’ll get it eventually, m’lord.”
      “We need to fight fire with fire.  If he’s confident enough to be swanning around here on my own doorstep helping himself to my game, despite the known consequences, then we’ll have to up the ante.  I think it’s time to start deploying a few strategically placed poachers’