earth to-morrow. If they're after birds or bunnies I'll stand tea all
round at Hooper's."

"All right," said Grim. "I'd like to know about that cartridge."

On the morrow the suspicious band quietly trotted out after dinner from
St. Amory's, dressed ostensibly for a run down Westcote way. Once down
the hill they lay well out in the fields, keeping a sharp watch through
the hedges for their quarry. When they saw two well-known figures, feet
on the rest, coasting merrily down and head for Westcote, they all drew a
long breath and girded up their loins for the race.

"With luck and the short cuts," said Grim, stepping out, "we may just see
'em sneak into Pettigrew's woods."

"And we've got a mile in hand too," said Wilson.

The cronies ran tightly together, nursing their wind and keeping well
screened from eyeshot from the road, not that either Acton, or Bourne
dreamed that their afternoon's run was being dogged by anyone. From their
numerous short cuts the scouts were necessarily out of view from the
road, but they marked the two cyclists from point to point and themselves
headed up hill and down dale straight for Westcote. They felt pretty well
winded by now, as they stood panting in a breezy spinney, watching for
the appearance of their quarry on the brown road beneath them.

"There they are," gasped Wilson, pretty blown.

"There's only one," said Rogers, "and it is that young owl Bourne, too.
He's shed Acton."