donkey man and the fat woman. The air was rent by their angry shouts.
A group of highly appreciative villagers collected round them. Then
one of them pointed to William, who sat, feeling still slightly
shaken, upon the bank.

"It was 'im wot done it," he said, "it was 'im that was a-drivin' of
it down the 'ill."

With one wild glance at the scene of devastation and anger, William
turned and fled through the wood.

"_Ach! Gott in Himmel!_" screamed the fat man, beginning to pursue
him. The fat woman and the donkey man joined the pursuit. To William
it was like some ghastly nightmare after an evening's entertainment at
the cinematograph.

Meanwhile the donkey and the mule fraternised over the _debris_ and
the villagers helped themselves to all they could find. But the fat
man was very fat, and the fat woman was very fat, and the donkey man
was very old, and William was young and very fleet, so in less than
ten minutes they gave up the pursuit and returned panting and
quarrelling to the road. William sat on the further outskirts of the
wood and panted. He felt on the whole exhilarated by the adventure. It
was quite a suitable adventure for his last day of unregeneration. But
he felt also in need of bodily sustenance, so he purchased a bun and a
bottle of lemonade at a neighbouring shop and sat by the roadside to
recover. There were no signs of his pursuers.

He felt reluctant to return home. It is always well to follow a
morning's absence from school by an afternoon's absence from school. A
return in the afternoon is ignominious and humiliating. William
wandered round the neighbourhood experiencing all the thrill of the
outlaw. Certainly by this time the gardener would have complained to
his father, probably the schoolmistress would have sent a note.
Also--someone had been scratched by the cat.

William decided that all things considered it was best to make a day
of it.

[Illustration: WILLIAM'S SPIRITS SANK A LITTLE AS HE APPROACHED THE
GATE. HE COULD SEE THROUGH THE TREES THE FAT CARAVAN-OWNER
GESTICULATING AT THE DOOR.]

He spent part of the afternoon in throwing stones at a scarecrow. His
aim was fairly good, and he succeeded in knocking off the hat and
finally prostrating the wooden framework. Followed--an exciting chase
by an angry farmer.

It was after tea-time when he returned home, walking with careless
bravado as of a criminal who has drunk of crime to its very depth and
flaunts it before the world.