Free Flotsam and Jetsam by Keith Moray

the moor behind the station to eventually run over a stretch of rapids before dropping into the sea.
    Crusoe didn’t seem to mind being put on a lead and walked alongside Torquil rather than straining at the lead.
    ‘You’ve had a lead on before, haven’t you, Crusoe? And that means that you have had a proper owner.’
    As if responding to the question Crusoe turned his head and barked once.
    ‘Maybe I should just let you off the lead and see if you head off home.’
    Crusoe turned his head again and barked twice.
    Torquil laughed. ‘Does that mean a “no”? Well, my wee friend, I am planning to let you off the lead sometime. Maybe when I take you home to the manse. If no one claims you then you will have to get used to living with Uncle Lachlan and me for a while. And hopefully, with my girlfriend Lorna before too long.’
    Suddenly Crusoe looked ahead and then stood stock still. Then he started to tremble. He barked and kept on barking, as if he was scared of something.
    ‘What’s the matter, boy?’ Torquil asked. Then he looked ahead and realized. They were approaching the old humped- back bridge that spanned the Mosset Burn. Two young boys of about ten years of age, good lads whom Torquil recognized, were playing pooh sticks from the top of the bridge.
    ‘Ah, I see. It brings back bad memories, does it, Crusoe? Of being tied to that timber and tossed in the water?’
    Crusoe was showing whites of his eyes and his ears had gone back. He yelped and huddled in closer to Torquil.
    ‘I want to get my hands on whoever did that to you,’ Torquil said, crouching to give the dog a reassuring pat. ‘If we only knew where they threw you in that might help.’ He straightened and tugged gently on the lead. ‘Come on, boy. It’s time that I showed up at the Chronicle anyway. We’ll nip through the back alley and do some investigating. If you are going to be a station dog, then I’ll have to get you used to crime investigation.’
    Three minutes later they were mounting the stairs of the Chronicle offices.
    ‘Good grief! What’s this, the new West Uist Police bloodhound?’ Calum cried mischievously, as they appeared on the landing, where he and Cora were standing sipping mugs oftea.
    Calum introduced Cora.
    ‘And this is Crusoe,’ said Torquil, bending to give the dog a pat. Immediately, Crusoe sat down, licked his hand and vigorously wagged his tail.
    Torquil recounted the dog’s history.
    Calum frowned and Cora gave a gasp of horror. ‘How could anyone be so cruel?’ she said, squatting beside Crusoe and stroking his head. The collie responded with a whimper, then lay down and rolled over to accept further spoiling.
    ‘Would you like me to put a piece in the Chronicle ?’ Calum asked. ‘We could put up a reward for information.’ He winked at Torquil. ‘Or rather, the police could put up a reward of maybe twenty pounds?’
    ‘Good idea, Calum my man. We can stretch to that if it helpsus find who did this.’ 
    Calum laid down his mug and rubbed his hands. ‘Fine, consider it done. And, in fact, it will be Cora’s first assignment as my cub reporter.’
    Cora jumped to her feet and kissed Calum on the cheek, causing him to squirm with momentary embarrassment. Torquil saved him by pointing to the mess. ‘So what happened here?’
    He listened and jotted down the details. ‘And you think that someone deliberately lured you out to Largo Head so that they could vandalize the office?’
    ‘Pretty sure.’
    ‘Any idea who?’
    ‘No. As you know, a newspaperman makes the odd enemy along the way. It’s an occupational hazard, as I was telling Miss Melville’s great niece here.’
    Torquil gaped. ‘You are Miss Melville’s great niece? Gosh, we had better mind our Ps and Qs or we’ll have the old girl on our backs just like in the old days.’
    Cora gave one of her effervescent laughs. ‘Oh stop it! I don’t believe my lovely old great aunt Bella would ever frighten anyone.’
    Torquil and Calum