“That’s all right,” said Anne. “You didn’t have as many as the others, even so! We can easily get some more.”

It was pleasant sitting there, eating and talking, and drinking lime juice and stream water. They were all tired, and it was nice to think of the cosy sleeping-bags. Timmy lifted his head and gave a vast yawn, showing an enormous amount of teeth.

“Timmy! I could see right down to your tail then!” said George. “Do shut your mouth up. You’ve made us all yawn.”

So he had. Even Mr. Luffy was yawning. He got up. “Well, I’m going to turn in,” he said. “Good night. We’ll make plans to-morrow morning. I’ll bring up some breakfast for you, if you like. I’ve got some tins of sardines.”

“Oh, thanks,” said Anne. “And there’s some of this cake left. I hope you won’t think that’s too funny a breakfast, Mr. Luffy — sardines and fruit cake?”

“Not a bit. It sounds a most sensible meal,” came Mr. Luffy’s voice from down the hillside. “Good night!”

The children sat there a few minutes longer. The sun went right out of sight. The wind grew a little chilly. Timmy yawned enormously again.

“Come on,” said Julian. “Time we turned in. Thank goodness Timmy didn’t come into our tent and walk all over me last night. Good night, girls. It’s going to be a heavenly night — but as I shall be asleep in about two shakes of a duck’s tail, I shan’t see much of it!”

The girls went into their tent. They were soon in their sleeping-bags. Just before they went to sleep Anne felt the slight shivering of the earth that meant a train was running underground somewhere. She could hear no rumbling sound. She fell asleep thinking of it.

The boys were not asleep. They, too, had felt the trembling of the earth beneath them, and it had reminded them of the old railway yard.

“Funny about those spook-trains, Dick,” said Julian, sleepily. “Wonder if there is anything in it.”

“No. How could there be?” said Dick. “All the same we’ll go to the farm to-morrow and have a little chat with that boy. He lives on the moors and he ought to know the real truth.”

“The real truth is that Wooden-Leg Sam is potty, and imagines all he says, and that the old shepherd, like all country people, is ready to believe in anything strange,” said Julian.

“I expect you’re right,” said Dick. “Oh my goodness, what’s that?”

A dark shape stood looking in at the tent flap. It gave a little whine.

“Oh, it’s you, Timmy. Would you mind not coming and pretending you’re a spook-train or something?” said Dick. “And if you dare to put so much as half a paw on my middle, I’ll scare you down the hill with a roar like a man-eating tiger. Go away.”

Timmy put a paw on Julian. Julian yelled out to George. “George! Call this dog of yours, will you? He’s just about to turn himself round twenty times on my middle, and curl himself up for the night.”