coming along the
passage from practising, she accidentally cannonaded into half a dozen
members of IV B who were standing near the boot cupboard. She evidently
surprised them, for one and all they hastily popped their hands into
their pockets. It was promptly done, but not so quickly as to prevent
Ulyth from seeing that they were eating something.

"It's all right," gasped Bertha Halliwell, with apparent unconcern, in
reply to Ulyth's apologies. "You nearly upset me, but I'm not
fractured."

"I wish you'd take care, though," grumbled Etta Jessop, surreptitiously
wiping a decidedly sticky mouth; "no one likes being tumbled over."

Ulyth passed on thoughtfully. What had they all been munching, and where
did they get it from? Private supplies of cakes and sweets were utterly
forbidden at The Woodlands. Their prohibition was one of the strictest
rules of the school, to break which would be to incur a very severe
penalty from Miss Teddington. Was this the explanation of Tootie's
rather enigmatical remarks down by the stream?

"If that's their precious secret, and they're just being greedy, I'm too
disgusted with them for words!" commented Lizzie, when informed of the
discovery.

Saturday and Monday passed with quite exemplary behaviour on the part of
the juniors. The keenest vigilance could discover nothing. But on
Tuesday Lizzie came across another clue. She had been monitress for the
afternoon in the drawing-class, and after the girls had left she stayed
behind to put away various articles that had been used and to tidy the
room.

As she worked along the desks where IV B had been sitting, collecting
stray pencils and pieces of india-rubber, she noticed a book lying on
the floor and picked it up. It was a French grammar, with "Etta Jessop"
written on the fly-leaf and had evidently been accidentally dropped. She
turned over the pages idly. In the middle was a scrap of paper torn from
an exercise-book, and on this was scribbled: "Where will she be
to-night?" while in a different hand, underneath, as if in answer to the
question, were the words: "Side gate at 8. Pass, 'John Barleycorn'."

This was most important. It was the first, indeed the only definite,
information they had to go upon. Lizzie replaced the slip of paper and
laid the book on the floor just where she had found it. Etta would no
doubt soon discover her loss, and come back to fetch it. In the meantime
this very valuable piece of news must be communicate