pursuit and arrest them on a charge of breaking the law.

After crossing a field they struck a path which led them eventually into
a by-lane.

"I know where we are," affirmed Garnet. "I bicycled this way once.
Monkend Woods are in that direction, and if we turn to the left and
through this village we shall get there sooner than the others, I
believe, and be waiting for them when they arrive. Their train won't
have reached Powerscroft yet."

"We'd better step out all the same," urged Winona.

Fortunately Garnet possessed the bump of locality. Her recollection of
the district was correct, and after a brisk walk of about a mile they
found themselves in the high road close to the wood, and sat down on a
wall to wait. Their fast train and short cut had given them an
advantage: it was nearly half an hour before they spied the rest of the
party strolling leisurely up the hill with baskets and vasculums. The
surprise of the League at seeing them was immense, and naturally there
were many inquiries as to how they had thus stolen a march upon their
friends.

"Oh, we came in an aeroplane!" said Garnet jauntily. "It just dropped us
in the field over there. Very pleasant run, though a little chilly in
the clouds!"

She was obliged to own up, however, in answer to Miss Lever's inquiries,
give a precise account of their adventure, and cry "peccavi."

"Of course Dollikins had to be orthodox and preach a short sermon," she
confided afterwards to Winona, "but I'm sure she'd have done the same
thing herself in the circumstances. I could see admiration in her eye,
although she talked about running risks and the possibility of broken
necks."

Miss Lever, otherwise Dollikins, from the fact that her Christian name
was Dorothy, held high favor among the girls. She was brisk and jolly,
decidedly athletic, and a first-rate leader of outdoor expeditions. She
had called at the gamekeeper's cottage _en route_ and shown the letter
of permission from the owner of the property, so that the party was able
to explore the wood with a clear conscience, despite the trespass notice
nailed on to the gate. And what a delightful wood it was! To enter it
was like stepping into one of Grimm's fairy tales. An avenue of splendid
pines reared their dark boughs against a russet background of beeches;
everywhere the leaves seemed to have donned their brightest and gayest
tints, as if bidding a last good-by before they fell from the trees. The
undergrowth w