to be allowed chocolates," she murmured, "or hot
peppermints, just to keep up their spirits. Ugh! How weird and eerie it
all is! There isn't a sound anywhere. It's not an enlivening performance
to keep watch, I must say."

She stopped, suddenly on the alert. What was that noise in the darkness
to her left? She distinctly heard a rustle among the gorse-bushes, and
thought something moved in the deep shadow.

"Halt! Who goes there?" she challenged.

There was no reply, but the rustle sounded again, this time nearer to
the camp. She listened with every sense strained to the uttermost.
Something or someone was slinking in from the field and creeping
cautiously towards the tents; of that she was nearly certain. Wild ideas
of thieving tramps flooded her brain. A louder sound confirmed her
suspicions. She could hear it quite distinctly in the direction of the
kitchen. Her duty was plain. She blew her whistle promptly; it was
answered by those of the three other sentries, from the north, east, and
south quarters, and immediately torches began to flash, and voices to
ask the cause of alarm. The guard was roused, and began an instant tour
of inspection.

"Something crept past me, straight towards the centre of the camp,"
Ulyth reported.

The lights flashed away in the direction of the kitchen. The girls were
on their mettle, and meant business. Whoever the intruder was, he should
be run to earth and made to give an account of himself. They felt
perfectly capable of taking him prisoner and binding his hands behind
him with a rope. Indeed, they thought they should hugely enjoy doing so,
particularly if he turned out to be a burglar. Numbers give courage, and
a very martial spirit was in the air.

"If he's hiding in one of the tents we'll drag him out by the legs!"
proclaimed Marjorie Earnshaw fiercely.

Everybody was sure it must be a "he". The news spread through the camp
like lightning, and it was even rumoured that he wore a coat and
top-boots. Miss Teddington herself had emerged, and was waving a lantern
as a searchlight.

"This way," blustered Marjorie, heading for the kitchen quarter. "The
sneaking cur! We'll have him!"

"Why aren't we allowed bayonets?" lamented Ruth White.

"Oh, I hear a noise! There's something there really," urged Kathleen
Simpson, with a most unsoldierly squeal. "Oh, I say! Here he comes!"

There was a sudden scratch and scramble, and from out the larder rushed
a dark object on four legs, w