Kinnair explained to the amateur sleuth how just three days earlier he had allowed a traveling troupe of four buskers to camp in a corner of his field for the night – a mime, a stilt-walker, a living statue and a balloon twister. The following morning, the troupe had vanished, along with Rover.
“He’s me best sheep-herding dog, is Rover,” Kinnair lamented. “No other dog reacts to my oral commands better or quicker.”
“To Edinburgh!” Hoames suddenly exclaimed, donning his deerstalker.