He wandered out into the lane wondering what had happened to the others. It was funny of David not to come back this way and give him a call. He had promised to look in. And the twins had not been along either. He was just trying to make up his mind to stroll up to Witchend before his uncle had finished milking and wanted him when he noticed something glinting in the ditch. He went back and picked up a little round tube of gold-coloured metal about three inches long. He fiddled about with it and found that it was a lipstick. He was just about to throw it back again when something else caught his eye and he stepped down into the narrow ditch to search more closely. Within a few minute's he had found a powder compact to match the lipstick, a half-full carton of cigarettes, a florin, a blunt pencil and a folded square of paper. Tom was naturally curious and had no hesitation in unfolding the paper. Slipping the trinkets into his pocket, he sat under the hedge to examine his find more closely. The first thing he noticed on the paper was a crude drawing of an owl in the top right-hand corner. Under the owl were some pencilled figures, but he could not make head or tail of the rest of the sketch - if it was a sketch! Dotted lines wandered over the paper and a peculiar triangular symbol was marked with a red cross.

Suddenly he remembered to whom these things must belong. It was at this very time last evening and in this very place that he had seen Mrs. Thurston running down the lane chased by Macbeth. The lipstick and the pencil - and the paper too - must have fallen from her bag without her knowledge. Tom whistled and ran his fingers through his hair.

He began to run up the lane to Witchend with the paper clutched hotly in his hand. Then he stopped and turned back. Better see his uncle first.

Mr. Ingles had finished milking and was enjoying a cigarette by the gate when he got back to the farm.

Tom showed his uncle the treasure he had found and also the piece of paper with the drawing of an owl.

Mr. Ingles looked at his nephew and then back to the scrap of paper in his hand.

"How d'you know that Thurston woman was running down the lane last evening?"

"'Cause I saw her, of course," said Tom indignantly. "I watched her and she ran like fury with that dog snapping at her. Once she stopped and tried to kick him, and he thought she was playing a game, and began to dance round her... I'll take the paper up to Witchend and ask those twins whether they did the drawing."