nd a tree, let them pass, then followed closely in the
rear.

The astonishment of the three waiting men was very great when their
companions arrived with the prisoner. Smiley told the story, laying
stress on the warning cry which he had cut short with his throttling
clutch. The general opinion was that Chippy had been posted there as a
spy, and threats of vengeance were breathed against him.

'Seems to me,' said Smiley, 'we'd better call it no go to-night.
They're on the watch; this is a sure proof of it. We'll ne'er drag yon
stretch in safety.'

'I ain't goin' back,' burst out Young Bill, in his thick, savage tones;
'ye can clear out yerself as soon as ye like, Smiley. Yer wor' allus a
white-livered un. I'm gooin' to net yon pool to-night if I ha' to do
it by myself.'

The three who had been waiting agreed with Young Bill, and Smiley said
he was willing to try if all were willing.

'What are we goin' to do with this nipper?' asked one of the men.

'I'll show yer,' growled the big navvy. 'I'll bring 'im along, an' ye
bring the things on.'

A great pile of nets had been lying on the ground, and the three men
gathered the nets up, and led the way, while the two last-comers
followed with the prisoner.

Dick had watched closely all that went on, and had listened to every
word and followed up, using every patch of cover to keep closely in the
rear, and burning to strike in on behalf of his brother scout and
friend.

For three hundred yards the party tramped along the bank of the little
brook, and then a broad, silvery stretch of water opened out before
them. The brook ran into a river at the head of a long pool noted for
its big trout, and the men were poachers, whose aim was to net this
reach of a famous trout-stream. One and all were idle rascals whose
boast was that they never did a stroke of honest work while there was
'fish, fur, or feather' to be stolen from the estates of the
countryside.

To-night they had come to their rendezvous feeling particularly safe.
A confederate had been posted right on the other side of the estate
with instructions to stumble on the alarm-guns set there. These guns
were to be set off about a quarter-past one, and the poachers expected
that the keepers would be drawn to the sound of the guns, and thus
leave them undisturbed at their quiet task of netting the Squire's
finest trout-pool. So that when they hit upon the Raven, and persuaded
themselves that he was a spy po