f, though I
doot we hae fleyt the paltrig. Bide ye by the whinns, and when ye see
me at the dyke come forrad with the net. If I lift my airm, ye'll
stop."

He went off with the end of the net, and Foster waited, half amused.
The fellow probably wanted to ensure his saying nothing about the
poaching by making him an accomplice, but this did not matter much. It
was an adventure and he was anxious to find a guide. By the way the
net unwound and slipped across the grass he thought there was another
man at work, but he carried his part forward as he had been told and
then dropped it and sat down among some rushes. Two indistinct figures
were moving towards each other and he got up presently when one
signaled. When he joined them a number of small dark objects showed
through the net.

"Hae!" said a man who opened the meshes, and added when Foster picked
up two limp birds: "We've no' done so bad."

Then Foster remembered the man he had seen as he came along the road.

"How many of you are in the gang?" he asked.

"There's twa o' us her. I'm thinking that's a' ye need ken."

"It's what I meant," said Foster apologetically. "Still I passed
another fellow hiding, a short distance back."

The men, saying nothing, took out the birds and began to roll up the
net. Foster had now four partridges, which they seemed to expect him
to carry, and was putting their legs together so as to hold them
conveniently when he heard a rattle of stones. Then a dark figure
leaped down from the wall and somebody shouted: "Stand where ye are or
I'll put a chairge o' number four in ye!"

A leveled gun twinkled in the moonlight, and for a moment Foster
hesitated. He hardly thought the man would shoot, and it would be
awkward if he was arrested with the partridges in his hand. Springing
suddenly forward, he struck, from below upwards, with his stick. There
was a flash and a report, but he felt himself unharmed and brought the
stick down upon the gamekeeper's head. He heard the gun drop, and then
turned and, keeping in the shadow of the wall, ran across the field.
When he was near the opposite end, he saw another man waiting to cut
him off, and seizing the top of the dyke swung himself over. He came
down among withered fern and ran back behind the wall towards the spot
where he had left his first antagonist, until he struck a small,
winding hollow through which water flowed. This seemed to offer a good
hiding-place, but Foster knew