He said nothing further, for his mind was occupied. His duty was to give up his son, but he thought of the lad’s mother and shrank. Still, he would not shield him; if Jimmy was in the house when they reached it, justice must take its course. His heart beat fast as he opened the door and then he drew a breath of relief. A few men in wet khaki sat by the hearth, talking to Janet and Euphie, but Jimmy was not there. Moir thought his wife’s look was somewhat strained, but when she turned towards him the girl’s glance was steady. The men got up as Jardine came forward, and he sent one off to obtain appliances for dragging out the car. ‘Did you get on the track of the fellow you wounded?’ he asked another. ‘No, sir. I took the moss road without a light, but the machine went ower a big stone and threw me off. The front wheel was buckled, so I left her behind a peat-stack and cam’ on, without seeing anybody.’ ‘Has Watson been in to report?’ ‘Yes, sir. He kept the high-road, by the Knowe and Townhead, but they’d seen nothing o’ our man, and there was nobody on the road as far as where the drove track runs in. Watson’s gone back to watch by the bothy near the brig.’ ‘Then it looks as if the fellow was hiding between where he was seen and here, but it’s unlikely that a wounded man would lie out on the moors on a night like this,’ Jardine said thoughtfully, and turned to Janet. ‘He might have crept into your byre or barn. Did you hear anything suspicious?’ Moir was sensible of keen tension as he glanced at his wife, but her face was calm. ‘He couldna have creepit into ony place withoot Rab, the collie, hearing him.’ ‘The dog was outside and he’ll hardly let a stranger set foot in the loaning,’ Euphie supported her. ‘That’s true, sir,’ one of the men remarked. ‘He cam’ oot to meet us and it was no’ that easy getting by.’ Jardine hesitated, and Moir felt his heart beat as he glanced at Jimmy’s coat, which hung in plain view with the wet sleeve suspiciously torn. Nobody, however, seemed to have noticed it, and when Janet urged them Jardine and his scouts sat down to supper. When the meal was over and they were going, Moir said: ‘I’ll hae to drive a son o’ mine, frae Glasgow, doon the water to catch the early train.’ ‘Then Jimmy’s back?’ said Jardine, who knew something about the lad. ‘He got hame late and needit a few ’oors’ sleep before starting again,’ Janet explained. ‘Very well,’ said Jardine, who took out a fountain pen and writing on a leaf from his pocket-book gave it Moir. ‘My men won’t interfere with you, but as I must warn the police and Territorials, you’d better take this pass.’ He went out and Moir turned to Janet. ‘Where hae ye hidden him?’ ‘In the barn,’ said Janet, with signs of strain. ‘Then ye’ll baith come and hear what I say til him,’ Moir replied, and lighted his lantern. A minute or two later, Jimmy got up from the straw among which he was lying, as Moir flashed the light into his face.