George’s sharp eyes had seen who it was. “It was Jock! Sitting beside the driver. And, look, here comes his stepfather’s fine new car. Jock’s preferred to go with the lorry-driver instead of his stepfather! I don’t blame him, either!”

The bright new car came by, driven by Mr. Andrews. He didn’t glance at the children by the wayside, but drove steadily on after the lorry.

“Going to market, I suppose,” said Dick, lying back again. “Wonder what they’re taking?”

“So do I,” said Mr. Luffy. “He must sell his farm produce at very high prices to be able to buy that fine car and all the machinery and gear you’ve told me about. Clever fellow, Mr. Andrews!”

“He doesn’t look at all clever,” said Anne. “He looks rather a weak, feeble sort of man, really, Mr. Luffy. I can’t ever imagine him being clever enough to beat anyone down, or get the better of them.”

“Very interesting,” said Mr. Luffy. “Well, what about another dip before we have our dinner?”

It was a very nice day, and Mr. Luffy was very good company. He could make fine jokes very solemnly indeed, and only the fact that his ear waggled violently showed the others that he, too, was enjoying the joke. His right ear seemed to love to join in the joke, even if Mr. Luffy’s face was as solemn as Timmy’s.

They arrived home at the camp about tea-time and Anne got a fine tea ready. They took it down to eat in front of Mr. Luffy’s tent. As the evening came on Julian and George felt excitement rising in them. In the daytime neither of them really believed a word about the “spook-trains,” but as the sun sank and long shadows crept down the hills they felt pleasantly thrilled. Would they really see anything exciting that night?

It was a very dark night at first, because clouds lay across the sky and hid even the stars. The boys said good night to the girls and snuggled down into their sleeping-bags. They watched the sky through the tent opening.

Gradually the big clouds thinned out. A few stars appeared. The clouds thinned still more and fled away in rags. Soon the whole sky was bright with pin-points of light, and a hundred thousand stars looked down on the moorlands.

“We shall have a bit of starlight to see by,” whispered Julian. “That’s good. I don’t want to stumble about over the heather and break my ankle in rabbit-holes in the pitch darkness. Nor do I want to use my torch on the way to the yard in case it’s seen.”

“It’s going to be fun!” Dick whispered back. “I hope Jock comes. It will be maddening if he doesn’t.”

He did come. There was a scrambling over the heather and once again a shadow appeared at the tent opening.

“Julian! Dick! I’ve come. Are you ready?”

It was Jock’s voice, of course. Dick’s thumb pressed the switch of his torch and for a moment its light fell on Jock’s red, excited face, and then was switched off again.