Dugald threw down his game-bag, so did the others their burdens. No one was sorry to rest a bit, so they leant against the dyke and quietly surveyed the stranger. Meanwhile Shot was standing defiantly in front of the setters. Shot wanted to know if either of these dogs would oblige him by fighting, singly or the two at once. But they did not seem inclined to accept the challenge. "My good fellow," said the stranger, "when you have stared sufficiently to satisfy you, perhaps you will be good enough to answer my question." "Well," said Dugald, "I'm staring because it's astonished I am." "You'd be more astonished if you knew who I am. But never mind. I've been travelling all day among these tiresome hills and only managed to kill one brown hare. I was told at the inn that the white hares were in hundreds." "Very likely," said Dugald, "but it's no' in the glen you'll find them. "You're two miles from the clachan," continued Dugald. "I'm McGregor's keeper--his chief keeper. I'll trouble you, sir, to show your permit." "You're a saucy fellow. I'm the future owner of these glens and all the estate, and lord of Castle Alva." "I'll believe it when I see it. You're neither lord nor laird yet. Your permit, please. I believe nobody since two students poached all over the hills here and called themselves friends of the laird's." "As to my permit, fellow, I did not trouble to bring it from C--." "Then you'll consider yourself my prisoner till you can produce it." The stranger was a man about forty-five, tall and wiry and haughty. He looked at Dugald up and down for a moment. "Dare you, fellow?" he shouted. Dugald quietly laid down his gun and threw off his jacket. He then took off his scarf, and stretched it out in front of the stranger. It measured fully a yard and a half. "I've tied the hands and feet of a poacher before," he said, "a bigger man than you. And I mean to do my duty by you." "Dugald," said Kenneth, "this gentleman may really be what he says." "Let him come quietly, then," replied Dugald. "No stranger that ever walked will lead Dugald McCrane into trouble again. Is it going to surrender you are, sir? Consider while I count ten. One--two--three--" "Enough, enough. I'm your prisoner, fellow. It is very ridiculous. Perhaps you'll live to rue this day. Come on with me to the inn." Dugald laughed. "Not just yet," he answered; "it's the other way; you come with me." The stranger bit his lip and frowned. Then he put his hand in his pocket and produced a gold piece. "This is yours," he said, "if you come at once." Fire seemed to flash from Dugald's eyes. He clenched his fists convulsively, and looked for a moment as if he meant to spring at the stranger's neck.