ohnnie," said Miss Penny, as they
came through the gap in the wall. "And if it keeps fine all the time
I'll give you--let me see, I'll give you a shilling when we go away."

Johnnie's avidious little claw reached out eagerly.

"Godzamin!" said he. "Gimme it now, an' I'll do my best."

"Earn it, my child," said Miss Penny, and they went on up the road,
leaving Johnnie scowling in the hedge.

"Well, where would you like to go to-day?" asked Graeme. "Will you
leave yourselves in my hands again?"

"I'm sure we can't do better," said Miss Penny heartily. "Yesterday
was a day of days. What do you say, Meg?"

"It looks as though we were going to occupy a great deal of Mr.
Graeme's time," said Meg non-committally.

"It could not possibly be better occupied," he said exuberantly.

"And how about your story, Mr. Graeme? Is it at a standstill?" asked
Miss Penny.

"Not at all. It's getting on capitally."

"Why, when do you work at it?"

"Oh,--between times, and when the spirit moves me and I've got
nothing better to do."

"Is that how one writes books?"

"Sometimes. How do you feel about caves?"

"Ripping! If there's one thing we revel in it's caves, principally
because we know nothing about them."

"Then we'll break you in on Greve de la Ville. They're comparatively
easy, and another day we'll do the Boutiques and the Gouliots. Then we
can get a whole day full of caves by going round the island in a
boat--red caves and green caves and black caves and barking-dog
caves--all sorts and conditions of caves--caves studded all round with
anemones, and caves bristling with tiny jewelled sponges. Sark is just
a honeycomb of caves."

"Spiffing!" said Miss Penny. "If Mr. Pixley gets on our track we'll
play hide-and-seek in them with him."

"Then we ought to spend a day on Brecqhou--"

"A day on Brecqhou without a doubt!"

"And if we can get the boat from Guernsey to call for us at the
Eperquerie, and can get a boat there to put us aboard, we might manage
Alderney."

"Sounds a bit if-fy, but tempting thereby. Margaret, my dear, our work
is cut out for us."

"And Mr. Graeme's cut out from him, I'm afraid."

"Oh, not at all, I assure you. It's going ahead like steam," and they
began to descend into Greve de la Ville, the dogs as usual ranging the
cliff-sides after rabbits, disappearing altogether at times and then
flashing suddenly into view half a mile away among the gorse and
bracken.

Sark scrambling requires