“Good-bye! See you soon,” whispered Jock, and disappeared into the darkness, with Timmy at his heels. Another chance of a midnight walk? Good, thought Timmy, just what he’d like! It was hot in the tent, and a scamper in the cool night air would be fine.

Timmy growled softly when they came near to Olly’s Farm, and stood still, the hackles on his neck rising up a little. Jock put his hand on the dog’s head and stopped.

“What’s the matter, old boy? Burglars or something?”

He strained his eyes in the darkness. Big clouds now covered the stars and there was no light at all to see by. Jock made out a dim light in one of the barns. He crept over to it to see what it was. It went out as he came near, and then he heard the sound of footsteps, the quiet closing of the barn door, and the click of a padlock as it was locked.

Jock crept nearer — too near, for whoever it was must have heard him and swung round, lashing out with his arm. He caught Jock on the shoulder, and the boy over-balanced. He almost fell, and the man who had struck him clutched hold of him. A flash-light was put on and he blinked in the sudden light.

“It’s you, Jock!” said an astonished voice, rough and impatient. “What are you doing out here at this time of night?”

“Well, what are you doing?” demanded Jock, wriggling free. He switched on his own torch and let the light fall on the man who had caught him. It was Peters, one of the farm men, the one in whose lorry he had ridden that very day.

“What’s it to do with you?” said Peters, angrily. “I had a breakdown, and I’ve only just got back. Look here — you’re fully dressed! Where have you been at this time of night? Did you hear me come in and get up to see what was happening?”

“You never know!” said Jock, cheekily. He wasn’t going to say anything that might make Peters suspicious of him. “You just never know!”

“Is that Biddy?” said Peters, seeing a dark shadow slinking away. “Do you mean to say you’ve been out with Biddy? What in the world have you been doing?”

Jock thanked his lucky stars that Peters hadn’t spotted it was Timmy, not Biddy. He moved off without saying another word. Let Peters think what he liked! Golly, it was bad luck, though, that Peters had had a breakdown and come in late. If the man told his stepfather he’d seen Jock, fully dressed in the middle of the night, there’d be questions asked by both his mother and his stepfather, and Jock, who was a truthful boy, would find things very difficult to explain.

He scuttled off to bed, climbing up the pear-tree outside his window, and dropping quietly into his room. He opened his door softly to hear if anyone was awake in the house, but all was dark and silent.