Then they heard Mrs. Thurston's voice behind them. "Nonsense," she was saying. "You don't understand children. I can manage them." Then, as she saw the twins standing still in the path: "What are you waiting for?"

"We've just seen a villain running through the wood," said Dickie bluntly.

"What d'you mean?" asked John. "Where?"

Mary waved a vague hand. "Well," she said, "I just thought I saw a man, but 'spect I didn't. There's nobody else lives round here, is there?"

The two grown-ups looked blankly at each other,,

"Must have been a ghost," added Dickie.

Then, "You funny children," laughed Mrs. Thurston. "How solemn you look! Now tell me. Did you really see anybody? Was it Jacob, do you think?"

Mary shook her head. "I don't know. Why should he want to run through the trees as if he was hiding?"

"Now, listen, twins. Just in case you did see somebody, and just in case there's a tramp round the house, I think you had better stop here while we go and see if everything is all right."

"Thank you very much," said Dickie firmly, "but I don't like this wood, and I think we'll come with you."

"We shall all be safe together," said Mary. "John will guard us, won't you?"

"I'll look after you," he smiled, "but I do think my aunt is right. Stay here for a few minutes with Mac and we'll go ahead and spy out the land. Can't be too careful these days, you know!... I'll come back for you if it's all clear."

"I'm coming with you," said Dickie stubbornly"

Then Mrs. Thurston was really angry.

"You are two naughty disobedient children!" she stormed. "You will do exactly what we say and stay here until we call you."

The twins were so surprised at this outburst that they nodded. Then John actually winked at them before going on down the path with his aunt. Once Mrs. Thurston turned to see if they were still there, and then, apparently sorry for her bad temper, waved before the trees hid them from sight.

Mary looked at Dickie and without further discussion they started quietly down the path after the two grown-ups. They trailed them quite well and slipped from tree to tree in the shadow of the wood. They had gone perhaps sixty yards in this way when Mary held up a warning hand and pulled her brother's head down to her mouth.

"'Bout here," she whispered, "that I saw the quiet man running. Over there." Then she stiffened and pointed to a tiny curl of blue smoke rising from the undergrowth.

"Gosh!" said Dickie. "A prairie fire! Come on!"

With Macbeth still panting on the lead they crept through the trees and there, in the centre of a circle of dry smouldering leaves, was the end of a new but still burning cigarette. Dickie stamped on the fire. "So it wasn't a ghost," he whispered.