“They’ve got tents,” Julian informed the others when he was back in the cellar room again. “They’re obviously staying put till they’ve got what they came for. They aren’t in the tents - they’re out by the lake.”

“Where’s Timmy?” asked George. “You shouldn’t have left him behind, Ju. They might do something to him.”

“Here he is!” said Julian, as a familiar noise of claws clattering on the ground came to their ears. Timmy came down the stone steps and ran to George.

“He’s got something in his mouth!” said George, in surprise, Timmy dropped it into her lap, She gave a yell.

“It’s a tin of shortbread! Where did he get it from?”

Julian began to laugh. “He must have taken it from one of the tents!” he said. “I saw something covered up with a cloth in one tent - their food, I imagine! Well, well - tit for tat - they took our food and now Timmy is taking theirs!”

“Fair exchange is no robbery,” grinned Dick. “Serves them right! I say - Tim’s gone again!”

He was back in a minute with something large and paper-covered. It was a big cake! The four roared with laughter. “Timmy! You’re a wonder! You really are!”

Timmy was pleased at this praise. Off he went again and brought back a cardboard box in which was a fine pork-pie. The children could hardly believe their eyes.

“It’s a miracle!” said Anne. “Just as I had made up my mind to starve for hours! A pork-pie of all things! Let’s have some.”

“Well, I have no second thoughts about it,” said Julian, firmly. “They took our food and we deserve some of theirs. Good gracious - don’t say Tim’s gone again.”

He had! He was enjoying himself thoroughly. He arrived this time with a packet of ham, and the children couldn’t imagine how he had stopped himself from eating some on the way.

“Fancy carrying it in his mouth and not even tasting a bit!” said Dick. “Tim’s a better person than I am. I’d just have to have had a lick.”

“I say - we ought to stop him now,” said Julian, as Timmy ran up the steps again, his tail wagging nineteen to the dozen. “We’re getting a bit too much in exchange!”

“Oh, do see what he brings back this time,” begged Anne. “Then stop him.”

He came back carrying an old flour bag in which something had been packed. Timmy carried it cleverly by the neck so that nothing had fallen out. George undid the bag.

“Home-made scones - and buns,” she said. “Timmy, you are very very clever, and you shall have a wonderful supper. But you are not to go and take any more things, because we’ve got enough. See? No more. Lie down and be a good dog and eat your supper.”

Timmy was quite willing. He wolfed ham and scones and a slice of cake, and then he went up into the kitchen, jumped into the sink and lapped the water lying there. He then jumped down and went to the doorway to look out. He barked. Then he growled loudly.