and a wire up to London will cost less than a shilling. So, as
between Margot's crew and our friend Count Waldemar--_la, la!_
There you are."

Mr. Narkom screwed up his face and said something under his breath.
He could not but follow this line of reasoning when the thing was
put before him so plainly.

"And we had been so free from all worry over the beggars up to this!"
he said, savagely. "But to get a hint--to pick up the scent--out
here--in a wild bit of country like this! Cinnamon, it makes me
sweat! What do you propose to do?"

"The only thing that's left us to do," gave back Cleek. "Get out of
it as quickly as possible and draw a red herring over the scent. In
other words, put back to Dollops, abandon the caravan, make our way
to some place where it is possible to telephone for the chap we hired
it from to send out and get it; then, to make tracks for home."

"Yes, but why bother about telephoning, old chap? Why can't we drop
in ourselves and tell the man when we get back to Sheffield on our
way to London?"

"Because we are not going back to Sheffield, my friend--not going
in for anything so silly as twice travelling over the same ground,
if it's all the same to you," replied Cleek, as he swung off from the
highway on to the dark, still moor and struck out for the place
where they had left Dollops and the caravan. "At best, we can't
be more than thirty miles from the boundary line of Cumberland. A
night's walking will cover that. There we can rest a while--at some
little out-of-the-way hostelry--then take a train over the Scottish
border and make for Dumfries. From that point on, the game is easy.
There are six trains a day leaving for St. Pancras and eight for
Euston. We can choose which we like, and a seven hours' ride will
land us in London without having once 'doubled on our tracks' or
crossed the route by which we came out of it."

"By James! what a ripping idea," said Mr. Narkom approvingly. "Come
along then, old chap--let's get back to the boy and be about it as
soon as possible." Then he threw open his coat and waistcoat to get
the full benefit of the air before facing the ordeal, and, falling
into step with Cleek, struck out over the moor at so brisk a dog
trot that his short, fat legs seemed fairly to twinkle.

CHAPTER XI

By the side of the little chattering stream that flowed through
the bit of woodland where Mr. Nippers and his associates had come
upon them, they found Dollops, wit