'Charge!' roared Dick; and the two patrols burst from the thicket and
swept down upon the marauder in a wild, mad wave of shouting boys and
whirling sticks. For a second the tramp sat moveless in paralyzed
astonishment. Then he grasped what it meant, and he jumped to his feet
and scuttled away as hard as he could pelt.

The swift-footed boys pursued, yelling in delight, and promising that
he should feel the weight of a scout's staff, when a long shrill call
on a whistle checked them. Mr. Elliott had come in sight of the chase,
and he recalled the pursuers at once.

'Let him go,' said Mr. Elliott; 'you've given him a good fright; and
the next time he comes across a hidden basket perhaps he won't be so
prompt in carrying it off.'

'Has he done any harm, Mr. Elliott?' asked Harry Maurice.

'He's had a couple of oranges, Harry, that's all,' said Mr. Elliott,
putting back into the basket the bag of flour and the potatoes which
had been tumbled out. 'Now all of you take an orange apiece--there are
plenty left--and we'll start back and have a go at our chupatties after
all.'

'He knew the heath, that fellow,' cried Billy Seton. 'He'd made for a
jolly quiet place to unpack the basket and see what was in it.'

'Yes,' said the instructor. 'You might have rambled over the heath all
day in a haphazard fashion without hitting on him. It was quite a
scout's bit of work to follow him up. You're coming on; I shall be
proud of you yet!'

So, laughing and talking, and eating their oranges, the Wolves and
Ravens and their instructor marched back to the sandpit, where the rest
of the afternoon was spent in the merriest fashion, so that all were
sorry when the dusk began to settle over the heath and drove them
homewards.

CHAPTER XI

CHIPPY MEETS A STRANGER

On a Sunday afternoon, some three weeks after the contest round the
Beacon, Chippy was crossing the heath towards the little village--or,
rather, hamlet--of Locking, three miles from Bardon. He was taking a
message from his mother to his grandmother, who lived in the hamlet.
The latter consisted of not more than half a dozen scattered cottages,
tucked away in a quiet corner of the heath--a lonely, secluded place.

Chippy's destination was the first cottage beside the grass-grown track
which was the only road into Locking. He lifted the latch of the gate
and entered the garden. Standing in the garden was a young man whom
Chippy had never seen before. Chipp