"I suppose it belongs to Lord Glyncraig."

"All the more shame to him then. I shall take a particular pleasure in
going, just because he sticks up 'Don't'."

"Suppose we're caught?"

"My blessed babes, you don't suppose I've come all this short cut and
scrambled over a pole to be turned back by a trespass notice! Do you
want to cross the stream again and trail home by the road?"

"Rather not!"

"Then I'll give you a boost to get over the fence there."

The property was well protected. It took Rona's best efforts to help her
companions to scale the high oak boards. When they had all dropped
safely to the other side they set off through the trees in the direction
they judged would bring them out nearest to The Woodlands.

Three girls in thick shoes do not pass absolutely silently through a
wood, especially if they indulge in giggles. Winnie and Hattie,
moreover, could never be together without chattering incessantly. For
the moment they had forgotten every principle of scouting. In that
quiet, secluded spot their shrill voices rang out with extreme
clearness. A rabbit or two scuttled away, and a pheasant flew off with a
whirr. Presently another and heavier pair of boots might be heard
tramping towards them, the bushes parted, and a dour-looking face, with
lantern jaws and a stubbly chin, regarded them grimly. The gamekeeper
glowered a moment, then growled out:

"What are you three a-doing here?"

"That's our own business," retorted Rona briskly.

"Indeed? Well, it happens to be my business too. You're trespassing, and
you know it."

"We're doing no harm."

"Aren't you? I suppose it's nothing to scare every pheasant in the wood.
Oh dear no!"

"What nonsense! It was only one," exclaimed Rona, standing up against
the bullying tone. "You're making the most unnecessary fuss. What right
have you to stop us?"

"More right than you've got to be here. I won't have anybody in these
woods, schoolgirls or no schoolgirls, so just you get back the way you
came, or----"

"That will do, Jordan," said a voice behind him.

The keeper started, turned, and touched his cap obsequiously.

"Beg pardon, my lord, but the trespassing that goes on here gets past
bearing, and wants putting a stop to."

"Very well, I'll settle it myself," and Lord Glyncraig--for it was
he--readjusted his glasses and stared reprovingly at the three
delinquents.

"Ah! girls from The Woodlands--evidently out of bounds. I shall have to
repor