see the trains come out of the tunnel like dragons
out of lairs. We've never seen that from the top side before."

"No more we have," said Phyllis, partially appeased.

It was really a most exciting place to be in. The top of the tunnel
seemed ever so much farther from the line than they had expected, and
it was like being on a bridge, but a bridge overgrown with bushes and
creepers and grass and wild-flowers.

"I KNOW the paperchase has gone long ago," said Phyllis every two
minutes, and she hardly knew whether she was pleased or disappointed
when Peter, leaning over the parapet, suddenly cried:--

"Look out. Here he comes!"

They all leaned over the sun-warmed brick wall in time to see the hare,
going very slowly, come out from the shadow of the tunnel.

"There, now," said Peter, "what did I tell you? Now for the hounds!"

Very soon came the hounds--by ones and twos and threes and sixes and
sevens--and they also were going slowly and seemed very tired. Two or
three who lagged far behind came out long after the others.

"There," said Bobbie, "that's all--now what shall we do?"

"Go along into the tulgy wood over there and have lunch," said Phyllis;
"we can see them for miles from up here."

"Not yet," said Peter. "That's not the last. There's the one in the red
jersey to come yet. Let's see the last of them come out."

But though they waited and waited and waited, the boy in the red jersey
did not appear.

"Oh, let's have lunch," said Phyllis; "I've got a pain in my front with
being so hungry. You must have missed seeing the red-jerseyed one when
he came out with the others--"

But Bobbie and Peter agreed that he had not come out with the others.

"Let's get down to the tunnel mouth," said Peter; "then perhaps we shall
see him coming along from the inside. I expect he felt spun-chuck, and
rested in one of the manholes. You stay up here and watch, Bob, and when
I signal from below, you come down. We might miss seeing him on the way
down, with all these trees."

So the others climbed down and Bobbie waited till they signalled to her
from the line below. And then she, too, scrambled down the roundabout
slippery path among roots and moss till she stepped out between two
dogwood trees and joined the others on the line. And still there was no
sign of the hound with the red jersey.

"Oh, do, DO let's have something to eat," wailed Phyllis. "I shall die
if you don't, and then you'll be sorry."

"Give her th