the truant, dissipated and distended, lurched into
his cage of his own accord and went instantly to sleep.

Encouraged by his return and by the regular habits of my hypothetical
bullfinch, Miss Ropes let him out again next day. This time he did not
come back.

"Probably he's sleeping it off somewhere," said Haynes cheerfully.
"He'll be back to-morrow."

However he wasn't. Miss Ropes had his description posted up in
the village, and next day a telephone message informed us that a
suspicious red-headed character answering to the specification was
loitering near the "Waggon and Horses," and was being kept under
observation. Miss Ropes and Haynes went off to arrest him, but hardly
had they disappeared down the drive when Philip in person appeared on
the lawn.

This gave our handy man, James, his chance. James simply loves to make
himself useful. If anybody wants anything done he can always rely on
James to do it by a more complicated method and with more trouble
to himself than the ordinary man could conceive. His education is
generally understood to have consisted of an exhaustive study of the
"How-To-Make" column in the _Boys' Own Paper_, completed by a short
course of domestic engineering under Mr. W. HEATH ROBINSON.

We first knew that he had undertaken the case when we heard his voice
excitedly telling us not to move. Naturally we all turned to look at
him. He had got a butterfly net from somewhere and was lying flat on
his tummy and whistling seductively an alleged imitation of Philip's
usual remark. Philip, about thirty yards away, was eyeing him with
contempt.

Suddenly James gathered his limbs beneath him, sprang up, galloped ten
yards and flung himself down again, panting loudly. Philip, surprised
and alarmed, took refuge in a tree, whereupon James abandoned the
stalk (blaming us for having frightened Philip away) and retired to
think of another scheme.

Soon he reappeared with some pieces of bamboo and a square yard of
white calico, sat down solemnly in the verandah and began to sew.

"Is it a white flag? Are you going to parley with him, or what?" asked
Ansell.

"Trap," replied James shortly.

We watched with silent interest while he got more and more entangled
in his contrivance.

"I hope Philip'll know how to work the machine," said I, "because I'm
sure I shouldn't."

At last it was finished, and James took it out and set it. He
disguised it (rather thinly) with half-a-dozen oak leaves and bai