They could — and they beat poor Mr. Luffy handsomely, because he couldn’t play at all. He blamed his luck on his bad cards, but he enjoyed the game immensely. He said the only thing that really put him off was the way that Timmy stood behind him and breathed down his neck all the time.

“I kept feeling certain that Timmy thought he knew how to play my cards better than I could,” he complained. “And whenever I did something wrong, he breathed down my neck harder than usual.”

Everyone laughed, and George privately thought that Timmy would probably play very much better than Mr. Luffy if only he could hold the cards.

Jock didn’t come at all. They put the cards away when they could no longer see them, and Mr. Luffy announced that he was going to bed. “It was very late when I got back last night,” he said. “I really must have an early night.”

The others thought they would go to bed too. The thought of their cosy sleeping-bags was always a nice one when darkness came on.

The girls crept into their bags and Timmy flopped down on George. The boys were in their bags about the same time and Dick gave a loud yawn.

“Good night, Ju,” he said, and fell fast asleep. Julian was soon asleep too. In fact, everyone was sound asleep when Timmy gave a little growl. It was such a small growl that neither of the girls heard it, and certainly Dick and Julian didn’t, away in their tent.

Timmy raised his head and listened intently. Then he gave another small growl. He listened again. Finally he got up, shook himself, still without waking George, and stalked out of the tent, his ears cocked and his tail up. He had heard somebody or something, and although he thought it was all right, he was going to make sure.

Dick was sound asleep when he felt something brushing against the outside of his tent. He awoke at once and sat up. He looked at the tent opening. A shadow appeared there and looked in.

Was it Timmy? Was it Mr. Luffy? He mustn’t make a mistake this time. He waited for the shadow to speak. But it didn’t. It just stayed there as if it were listening for some movement inside the tent. Dick didn’t like it.

“Timmy!” he said at last, in a low voice.

Then the shadow spoke: “Dick? Or is it Julian? It’s Jock here. I’ve got Timmy beside me. Can I come in?”

“Golly! Jock!” said Dick, in surprise. “Whatever have you come at this time of night for? And why didn’t you come to-day? We waited ages for you.”

“Yes. I know. I’m awfully sorry,” said Jock’s voice, and the boy wriggled himself into the tent. Dick poked Julian awake.

“Julian! Here’s Jock — and Timmy. Get off me, Timmy. Here, Jock, see if you can squeeze inside my sleeping-bag — there’s room for us both, I think.”