d sheltered in a hovel where the heath-folk store their turves.

This shower had wetted the dust of the track, and Dick at once saw
clear, heavy footmarks, as if a man had quite lately walked along the
path and gone on.

'Here's a perfectly fresh track,' said Dick; 'and this chap in his
stockings has crossed it at this patch of grass where he has left no
sign on the path.'

'Seems to me,' remarked Chippy, 'as 'im wot we're arter heerd this one
a-comin',' and Chippy pointed to the firm new tracks; 'an' then he off
wi' his boots to dodge along on the quiet.'

'I don't see anything else for it,' said Dick; 'and that would make it
plainer than ever that he's up to no good.'

'Look theer!' snapped Chippy swiftly, and pointed.

Dick whirled round in time to see a man's head and shoulders appear
over the bushes at a far bend of the way, and then vanish as the walker
turned the corner. But both boys had recognised him. It was the
sergeant with whom they had spoken.

Dick gave a long, low whistle. 'He was dodging the sergeant, Chippy!'

'It's a convict!' said Chippy. 'Can't be nuthin' else!'

For a moment the boys discussed the plan of running after the sergeant
and laying the matter before him, but they gave it up, for several
reasons. He was a good way ahead, and out of sight. He might turn
right or left across the open heath, and in that case they would have
to hunt his track while their quarry was going farther and farther
away. They decided to stick to their man, and turned to his spoor.

'Here's his road,' said Dick, pointing along a grassy glade. 'He's
gone on, and he must have gone this way. It's all bramble and gorse
everywhere else, and a man isn't going through that in his stockings.'

Chippy nodded in agreement, and the two scouts ran at full apeed along
the narrow ribbon of grass between the prickly, spiny bushes.

'He'll soon put his boots on again,' said Dick,' and then we'll get
this line a lot easier.'

But the fugitive had not stayed to do so for a long way, as was plain
from the flat, smooth marks which the boys found twice in soft places.
Then the trail went again, and they pulled up and began to beat round
in search of it. It was Dick this time who uttered the cry of the
peewit, and Chippy ran up to find his brother scout holding a fragment
of something in his fingers.

'Picked it up just here,' said Dick. 'What do you reckon it is.
Chippy?'

'Bit of an old cork sock,' replied th