nkin' up like
a thunder-cloud, an' King goes rubbin' his beastly hands, an' grinnin'
like a hyena. It's shockin' demoralizin' for King. He'll burst some
day."

That day came a little sooner than they expected--came when the
Sergeant, whose duty it was to collect defaulters, did not attend an
afternoon call-over.

"Tired of pubs, eh? He's gone up to the top of the bill with his
binoculars to spot us," said Stalky. "Wonder he didn't think of that
before. Did you see old Heffy cock his eye at us when we answered our
names? Heffy's in it, too. _Ti-ra-la-la-i-tu_! I gloat! Hear me! Come
on!"

"Aves?" said Beetle.

"Of course, but I'm not smokin' _aujourd'hui_. _Parceque je_ jolly well
_pense_ that we'll be _suivi_. We'll go along the cliffs, slow, an' give
Foxy lots of time to parallel us up above."

They strolled towards the swimming-baths, and presently overtook King.
"Oh, don't let _me_ interrupt you," he said. "Engaged in scientific
pursuits, of course? I trust you will enjoy yourselves, my young
friends."

"You see!" said Stalky, when they were out of earshot. "He _can't_ keep
a secret. He's followin' to cut off our line of retreat. He'll wait
at the baths till Heffy comes along. They've tried every blessed place
except along the cliffs, and now they think they've bottled us. No need
to hurry."

They walked leisurely over the combes till they reached the line of
notice-boards.

"Listen a shake. Foxy's up wind comin' down hill like beans. When you
hear him move in the bushes, go straight across to Aves. They want to
catch us _flagrante delicto_."

They dived into the gorse at right angles to the tunnel, openly crossing
the grass, and lay still in Aves.

"What did I tell you?" Stalky carefully put away the pipes and tobacco.
The Sergeant, out of breath, was leaning against the fence, raking
the furze with his binoculars, but he might as well have tried to see
through a sand-bag. Anon, Prout and King appeared behind him. They
conferred.

"Aha! Foxy don't like the notice-boards, and he don't like the prickles
either. Now we'll cut up the tunnel and go to the Lodge. Hullo! They've
sent Foxy into cover."

The Sergeant was waist-deep in crackling, swaying furze, his ears filled
with the noise of his own progress. The boys reached the shelter of the
wood and looked down through a belt of hollies.

"Hellish noise!" said Stalky, critically. "'Don't think Colonel Dabney
will like it. I move we go into the Lodge