the bush, to reach the other side. And, just as the cry of the man
who first had seen the footprints sounded again, he got through. At once,
throwing off all attempt at silence, he started running, crouched low. He
was only a dozen feet from the wall. He leaped for a projection a few feet
up. By a combination of good luck and skill he reached it with his hands.
A moment later he had swarmed over the wall and dropped to the other side
just as a shot rang out behind. The bullet struck the wall; chipped
fragments of stone flew all over him. But he was not hurt, and he ran as he
had never known he could run, keeping to the side of the road, where he was
in a heavy shadow.

As soon as he could, he burst through a hedge on the side of the road
opposite the wall, and ran on, sheltered by the hedge, until, to his
delight, he plunged headfirst into a stream of water. The fall knocked him
out for a moment, but the cold water revived him, and he did not mind the
scraped knee and the barked knuckles he owed to the sharp stones in the bed
of the little brook. He changed his course at once, following the brook,
since in that no telltale footprints would be left.

Behind him he heard the sound of pursuit for a little while, but he judged
that the brook would save him. He could not be pursued very far. Even in
this sleepy countryside he would find it easy to get help, and the Germans,
as he was now sure they were, would have to give up the chase. All that
had been essential had been for him to get a few hundred feet from the
park; after that he was safe.

But, if he was safe, he was hopelessly lost. At least he would have been,
had he been an ordinary boy, without the scout training. He was in unknown
country and he had been chased away from all the landmarks he had. It was
of the utmost importance that he should reach as soon as possible, and,
especially, without passing too near Bray Park, the spot where the
motorcycles and the papers and codes had been cached. And, when he finally
came to a full stop, satisfied that he no longer had anything to fear from
pursuit, he was completely in the dark as to where he was.

However, his training asserted itself. Although Harry had been in charge,
Dick had not failed to notice everything about the place where they made
their cache that would help to identify it. That was instinct with him by
this time, after two years as a scout; it was second nature. And, though it
had been light, he had pi