as necessarily
obliged to leave them much to themselves, and trust them not to get into
any serious mischief.

But in the holidays no boy is quite as wise as he should be.
Certainly Paul was not, when he determined to go and find out for himself
if that morass was really as dangerous as Muggridge had said.
Muggridge was the boy who had driven the cart, and Paul had begun to have
a galling feeling that Muggridge had bean treating him as though he were a
baby, which of course was a thing not to be tolerated for a moment.
He must show him that he was a public-school boy, and had already seen
more of the world than Muggridge was ever likely to.

It was Saturday morning, and every one in the house, excepting the
children, seemed to be unusually busy and occupied. Stella and Michael
sauntered out into the yard, and hung on the gate, swinging.
Paul strolled out presently and joined them, but the amusement was not to
his liking, so he went outside and stood in the road, and looked at the
country.

"Let's go for a walk on the moor," he said presently; "there is nothing to
do here, and it's looking jolly out there."

Stella and Michael, only too glad to be invited by their elder brother to
join him, followed at once with a shout of joy. Paul looked back several
times to make sure no one was watching them, but there were no windows at
that end of the house, and everyone was busy. When they had gone a little
distance they got off the road on to the soft turf at the side, and began
running about here, there, and everywhere. "You had better see where you
are going," said Paul; "they say there are morasses here that suck one in
until one is gone right down, head and all."

Stella looked about her with wondering eyes, and seized Michael's hands.
"What do they look like, Paul? Are they pools?"

"I don't know," said Paul, "I should think so."

"There aren't any here, then," she said eagerly, and with a sigh of
relief, letting Mike go again. "I don't see any, do you, Paul?"

"Muggridge said there were, and that is why they go round by that silly
old road; but I don't believe him, and I'm going to find out for myself.
Perhaps he thinks I will swallow everything he chooses to tell me, and is
trying to see how much he can take me in."

"Did he tell you not to go there?" asked Stella, nervously.

"No, he did not tell me any such thing. Why should he? I should like to
see him dare to order me about. He just said that I had