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Dick gave a long, low whistle. 'He was dodging the sergeant, Chippy!'

'It's a convict!' said Chippy. 'Can't be nuthin' else!'

For a moment the boys discussed the plan of running after the sergeant and laying the matter before him, but they gave it up, for several reasons. He was a good way ahead, and out of sight. He might turn right or left across the open heath, and in that case they would have to hunt his track while their quarry was going farther and farther away. They decided to stick to their man, and turned to his spoor.

'Here's his road,' said Dick, pointing along a grassy glade. 'He's gone on, and he must have gone this way. It's all bramble and gorse everywhere else, and a man isn't going through that in his stockings.'

Chippy nodded in agreement, and the two scouts ran at full apeed along the narrow ribbon of grass between the prickly, spiny bushes.

'He'll soon put his boots on again,' said Dick,' and then we'll get this line a lot easier.'

But the fugitive had not stayed to do so for a long way, as was plain from the flat, smooth marks which the boys found twice in soft places. Then the trail went again, and they pulled up and began to beat round in search of it. It was Dick this time who uttered the cry of the peewit, and Chippy ran up to find his brother scout holding a fragment of something in his fingers.

'Picked it up just here,' said Dick. 'What do you reckon it is. Chippy?'

'Bit of an old cork sock,' replied the Raven.

'Just so,' said Dick, 'and it's quite dry, so it was dropped here since the rain.'

'One to you,' said Chippy; 'that come out of 'is boot – jerked out as 'e was runnin'. We're on the line.'

He made a few steps forward, then gave a low cry. 'Here's the place where he put 'is boots on,' called Chippy eagerly. 'Here's all sorts o' marks.' And then Chippy gave another low cry, this time full of such astonishment and wonder that Dick looked at him quickly.

To Dick's surprise, Chippy seemed fixed to the spot, his finger pointing, his eyes staring, his mouth gaping open, as if he could not believe what he saw. 'I know the tracks,' gasped Chippy. 'I know 'im! I can tell yer who it is!'

CHAPTER XIII
ALBERT, WHO WASN'T ALBERT

'You know who it is?' cried Dick. 'Well, who?'

'It's Albert,' said Chippy. 'It ain't no convict at all. It's Albert.'

'Who's Albert?' asked Dick.

Chippy told the story of his grandmother's lodger, and pointed to the heel-mark before them. It was the first time since they hit the trail that the heel-mark had been clearly shown. 'Screws in the heel-tip,' said Chippy. 'That settles it. It's Albert.'

'But wait a bit, Chippy, wait a bit,' said Dick. 'You're making jolly sure all at once over this one point. Fifty fellows might have screws in their heels.'

'Not they,' returned Chippy. 'I know more about them sorts o' boots than wot you do. It's a scout's job to twig everythin', an' I twigged the screws in his boots. I knowed they worn't common, an' a day or two arter I asked a snob' (a local term for a cobbler) 'about it. I done one or two odd jobs for 'im to get 'im to talk, and then I sez to 'im, "D'yer ever screw tips on heels?" "No," he sez, "never. We screw tips on the toes sometimes, for there ain't much depth o' leather theer. But on heels there's plenty of leather to drive nails into, an' that's a lot quicker."'

'By Jingo, Chippy!' murmured Dick; 'we shall have to get you the Wolf badge.'

'Not me,' grunted Chippy; 'yer must do a lot more than that to get the "Wolf" name, I should fancy. But wot about this work? Wot about Albert?'

He turned to business again, knitting his brows and staring hard at the track their man had left.

'The thing gets queerer still, if it is the man Albert,' said Dick. 'Why should he be here, all this distance from Locking?'

'Six mile good,' put in the Raven.

'Yes,' went on Dick, 'full six miles, and then taking off his boots and stealing about like a thief or an escaped convict, as we thought.'

'Foller 'im up,' said Chippy shortly.

'Right,' said Dick, 'we'll see this out;' and the scouts began once more to work along the trail.

For more than half a mile they followed quite easily. There were many bare patches among the grass, and the heavy shower which had fallen at midday proved a good friend to them, the damp soil giving many excellent impressions of the heavy steps of the man whom they pursued.

The boys had now gained a very lonely part of the heath, for the fugitive appeared to be making for the most secluded corner of the vast expanse. They had been steadily working away from the part where the patrols had been searching, and the distance between them and the rendezvous at the railway-station increased with every stride.

Chippy was leading, and Dick was guarding the rear. The former looked out the track, the latter watched before and behind and on either side: by sharing the duties thus they covered the whole field of a scout's work – the finding of the trail and the guarding against surprise.

Looking out in this fashion, Dick saw a crow come sailing on outspread wings, down, down from a great height. The crow was skimming straight towards a small solitary pine sixty or seventy yards before them, as if aiming to settle among the topmost branches; but just as it was about to alight, it gave a startled, gobbling quaw-quaw-quaw, flapped its wings swiftly, and shot away at a sharp angle, and continued its flight across the heath.

Dick reached out his patrol flag and touched Chippy. The latter paused, and the two scouts put their heads together while Dick whispered what he had seen. 'There's someone about,' concluded Dick. 'The bird was going to settle, but it was scared and flew away.'

'S'pose I 'ave a look?' suggested Chippy.

'All right,' said Dick. 'I'll stay here. One can work more quietly than two.'

Chippy went, and within ten minutes was back, his face shining with excitement and triumph.

'Albert,' he whispered – 'it's Albert aw' right. Come on!' He crept away on hands and knees, and Dick followed. Piloted by Chippy, the latter crawled along until he found himself behind a small bank about a yard high.

'Yer can see 'im over this bank,' breathed Chippy into his ear.

Laying his hat aside, Dick raised his head inch by inch until his eyes were above the bank. Now he could see between stems of dried fern without being seen himself. He was looking into a deep green hollow, bounded upon one side by an almost perpendicular wall of earth – a place from which most likely sand had been dug a long time ago. At the foot of the steep wall sat a man – the man whom they had been following. He had a pencil in his hand, and a pocket-book on his knee, and he was busily writing on a sheet of the pocket-book.

All this seemed innocent enough, but at the next moment the boys looking on were filled with wonder. Albert suddenly laid down pencil and pocket-book, bent forward, unlaced his left boot, and took it off. Then he drew something from his pocket, and went to work on the heel of his boot. The boys were not near enough to see what tool he was using, but his movements were those of one who draws out screws, and they clearly saw the heel of the boot come loose and fall into his hand.

Chippy gave his companion a nudge, and they looked at each other in astonishment. Then they watched Albert closely, and saw him fold into small compass the piece of paper upon which he had been writing, place it inside the heel, and screw the latter up again.

An idea shot into Dick's mind. If he had never been a boy scout, that idea would not have occurred to him; but in his enthusiasm he had bought Baden-Powell's 'Aids to Scouting,' and read it over and over again. One chapter in that little book now sprang to his memory, and he touched Chippy, and beckoned to the latter to draw back completely out of sight.

They slipped eight or ten yards away, and put their heads close together and held a whispered conversation.

Dick's eyes shone brightly, and he took Chippy by the arm. 'Chippy,' he said, 'I believe that's a spy!'

Chippy's sharp face wore a puzzled look. 'A spy!' he repeated. 'Wot's he a-spyin' on in the he'th?'

'The fort, Chippy – the fort!' breathed Dick eagerly – 'the Horseshoe, the new fort!'

'Ah!' said the Raven, and began to see what his companion meant.

'I've read all about it in a book of B. – P.'s,' went on Dick. 'Foreigners will do anything to learn about a new fort. They send spies to find out all they can. He's taking notes of all he discovers, and hiding the papers in the heel of his boot.'

Chippy gave an eager nod. His keen face lighted up at this new and wonderful turn of events. A spy! a foreign spy! He felt at once that here was greater game than any escaped convict.

'That's why he dodged the sergeant,' breathed Chippy.

'Yes; it's plainer and plainer every instant,' said Dick.

Chippy nodded. 'Wot do we do?' he asked.

'We must stop him, somehow,' replied Dick. 'He might do the greatest harm to our country. It's a scout's work to collar such people. B. – P. himself has caught four foreign spies at different times in England.'

Chippy jerked his head towards the bank, and began to crawl back. Dick understood that he was going to see what the man was at now, and followed.

Albert still sat under the steep bank, pencil in hand, and a fresh sheet of paper on his knee. Chippy nudged Dick, and made signs to him to duck down, as Bardon boys say.

'I'm off to get a bit closer and see wot he's a-doin',' breathed Chippy. 'Stop 'ere an' "pewey" if he shifts.'

Dick nodded, and Chippy slid away as quietly as a snake.

Six or seven minutes passed before Dick saw his companion again. Then he caught sight of the Raven's head as Chippy appeared round the trunk of the pine which grew on the steep bank of the pit.

Little by little Chippy crept on, until his head was thrust over the brink, and he was looking straight down on the concealed man, the latter now drawing lines on his sheet of paper. His head was bent low over his work, and Chippy craned out farther and farther to glance over his shoulder. The man sat up and began to fold this paper as before, then reached out his hand for the boot which lay beside him, and deftly unscrewed the heel once more. As soon as the paper was stowed away and the heel refastened, he took the boot in hand to put it on his foot.

Suddenly he looked up. Either he had caught Chippy's shadow, or he had felt that he was watched. He looked up, and saw the boy hanging over the brink.

Chippy's main purchase was on a root of gorse which cropped up at the edge of the pit. He aimed to swing himself back with all his might, depending on his grasp of the root. The root snapped short off close to the ground, and Chippy went tumbling and sprawling head-long into the pit, landing at the man's feet.

CHAPTER XIV
CHIPPY AND THE SPY

The latter sprang up with a savage cry that was not English. 'Ach Himmel!' cried he, and again, 'Ach Himmel!'

At that moment of immense surprise, his native tongue sprang to his lips before any other, and he leapt upon Chippy, and seized him with hands that trembled.

The leader of the Ravens was not hurt, and his coolness was splendid.

'Hello, Albert!' he said; 'it's all right. There's no need to 'elp me up.'

'Help you up!' hissed the stranger. 'What are you doing here? What do you mean by watching me?'

His Cockney accent, too, was wiped out as if by magic. Probably he had forgotten for the instant that he had used it in Locking. At any rate, he did not use it now. But his English was perfect, in word and tone – the English of a well-educated man.

'Why,' said Chippy calmly, as if to tumble on a man's head was the most natural thing in the world, 'me an' a lot more are out to-day for a run over the he'th. One cuts ahead, an' the rest of us foller 'im. We've lost the one we foller, an' he's got to be found, so I'm looking everywheer. Wot made yer pull yer boot off? Got a stone in it?'

Chippy did this superbly. He boldly mentioned the fact that the boot was off, and he suggested a probable explanation, and he did it all with just the right amount of careless curiosity. But he was dealing with no common man. The tall, powerful foreigner was still holding him by one hand with a grip of steel, and the fierce blue eyes blazed again with suspicion and distrust. The man spoke, and his tone was low and cool, for he had mastered himself, but there was a hard note in it.

'How long had you been there?' he asked quietly.

'Just seein' who it was, then tumbled,' said Chippy.

The Raven knew – how he could not say – but he knew that he was in great danger. There was a dreadful change in this man. The chattering Cockney who had called himself Albert had gone, and a grim, stern, savage man stood in his place, a man whose fierce glittering eyes seemed to be striving to pierce Chippy's very soul and read his thoughts.

Chippy was indeed in danger. For Dick was right: this man was a spy sent by his Government to gather for them all particulars of the new fort which was being built at the mouth of the river. So far the spy had been very successful, and to carry off his notes and to secure his own safety he was quite ready to kill this boy if need should arise, and hide his body in this solitary place.

Consider for a moment the position in which the spy stood. What is the punishment threatened to the spy who is caught at such a task? Death! What will the Government he serves do to help him? Nothing at all, nothing. It may be a Government quite friendly to the land where the spy is seized. It will disavow him, and leave him to his fate. Yet that Government was quite willing to profit by his labours; nay, sent him there to gain that information. Yes, because Governments act upon the idea that the friend of to-day may be the foe of to-morrow, so they use such instruments freely. But if an instrument should break in the hand, it is cast aside, and not a second thought is given to it.

The spy knew all this; he was no raw hand in this dangerous profession, and he was now weighing in his mind whether it would be safe to let this boy go. Had he seen too much? He tried to find out how much Chippy had seen.

'What was I doing when you saw me first?' he asked lightly, and smiled. But the smile was of the lips only, a mere mockery of a smile. The eyes, the very heart of a smile, remained fiercely bright, and cold, and questioning.

'Fiddlin' wi' yer boot,' said Chippy calmly; 'gettin' the stone out, I s'pose.'

'Look here,' said the spy in quiet tones, 'have you seen me for the last five minutes? Yes or no.'

He paused for a reply, but none came. Chippy was shaken. Yes or no. That position admitted of no manoeuvring.

'What's this?' said the spy softly, and fingered with his left hand Chippy's badge; his right hand was clutched with a grip of iron on Chippy's shoulder.

'Scout's badge,' muttered Chippy.

'Ah, is it really?' murmured the spy. 'Yes, I've looked into that movement. Well, on your word as a scout, yes or no.'

Chippy looked up. He forced a laugh.

'Why – look 'ere, Albert,' he began, and then twisted like an eel, and tried to dive under the spy's arm. He had smiled and spoken, hoping to throw the man off his guard, but this man was not easily deceived, and his grip remained unshaken.

He gave a low, savage laugh. 'Thank you; that is all the answer I want,' he said, and slipped his left hand into a hidden pocket under his coat.

There is an instinct which teaches every living creature that the moment has come when it must fight for its life. Chippy felt it strongly, and he hurled himself upon the spy, kicking, biting, tearing at him like a little tiger, but all in vain; in that powerful grip he was utterly helpless. Yet no, that gallant struggle was not all in vain, for it held the spy's whole attention as he mastered his victim, and it prevented him from seeing a second boyish figure racing into the hollow down the slope by which the spy had entered.

Chippy, clever Chippy, saw his staunch brother scout dashing into the combat, and began to yell at the highest pitch of his voice, not calling to Dick, but just making a noise, any noise, to cover the sound of those swift feet, and give Dick the advantage of a surprise as he darted up behind the spy.

Dick made full use of the opportunity. He had watched every movement of the two in the hollow, and had leapt from his cover as soon as he saw Chippy begin to struggle. His patrol flag was fastened on a stout ashen staff, hard as iron, an old alpenstock cut down. He swung it up as he ran, and he was within a yard of striking distance, when he saw the spy's hand reappear with something in it glittering like the blade of a dagger.

With a last bound Dick was within reach, and he brought the heavy staff down with all his strength, fetching the spy a ringing crack on the head. Half-stunned, the man staggered round to face the new assailant, and Chippy saw his chance. He tore himself free, made a swift dive to the ground, and was off. Dick joined him, and the two boys scoured away at full speed, leaving the spy all abroad for the moment from the effects of that shrewd stroke.

CHAPTER XV
FLIGHT

The scouts made straight for the bank over which they had been peeping, leapt it, and dashed on, Chippy picking up his patrol flag as he ran. He had left it with Dick to have his hands free. Dick was last over the bank, and he glanced back as he cleared it. 'Run, Chippy, run,' he called. 'He's coming! He's coming!'

The spy had pulled himself together, and was in hot pursuit. He was bounding up the slope, and Dick saw that he came terribly fast. 'He's a confounded long-legged beggar,' thought Dick. 'We shall have to fight for it yet. It's lucky we've got a good stick apiece.'

Beyond the bank was a long grassy ride sloping easily downwards, and here the boys ran their fastest, and behind them the spy raced at great speed, gaining, gaining steadily. They went half a mile, and then Dick gasped: 'He's close on us, Chippy. Let's turn on him!'

'Not a bit of it,' grunted Chippy. 'Peg it! peg it! See wot's in front?'

'Only some burnt furze,' said Dick.

'Only!' snorted Chippy. 'See wot's under my arm?'

Dick looked, and, precious as wind was, he let out a yell of delight. In the excitement of the flight he had not observed it; tucked under Chippy's arm was the spy's boot. The Raven had whipped it up, and carried it on at the moment of escape.

Dick at once saw what Chippy meant. Hitherto they had been running over clear open grass, and the spy, even with one boot off and one boot on, had made tremendous headway, but the burnt furze was close at hand, and here they would show him another dance altogether.

They were approaching a broad belt of land which had been swept by a heath-fire. The furze-bushes had been very thick on the ground, and had been burned away to the very foot of the stems. Now those close-standing stems pushed short spikes above the soil like the teeth of a huge harrow pointing upwards, each tooth blackened, hardened, and pointed by fire.

The spy was not ten yards behind the boys when the latter burst into the flame-swept belt of heath. Their boots kicked up clouds of black ashes as they bounded forward, and their pursuer followed at once. Twice he put his unprotected foot down in safety, missing by sheer luck the thickly planted spikes, but the third time he set the very middle of his sole on a short stout fang standing bolt upright, and pointed by fire as if with a knife.

He let out a yell of agony as the spike, by the force of his weight and speed, was driven home into his foot.

'Got 'im,' said Chippy, and the two scouts turned to see their enemy, doubled up on the ground, utterly crippled for the time by that shrewd thrust from below.

'I knowed that 'ud settle 'im, if we could on'y get on to it,' chuckled Chippy, while the boys eased their speed, but still ran steadily on. 'I've 'ad my foot cut on a burnt root afore now.'

'Oh, Chippy,' said Dick, 'what a touch to bring his boot! That was splendid.'

''Tworn't a bad notion,' agreed Chippy. 'We'll leg it a bit again, an' then 'ave a look at it.'

The boys ran for a mile or more, and then fell into a walk. The blackened strip of country was now out of sight, and they looked round for a place to halt for a few minutes to get their breath and examine the boot.

'We want a place,' said Dick, 'where there's good cover for ourselves, and a clear space all round so that no one can surprise us. I learned that from "Aids to Scouting."'

'I see,' said Chippy. 'Wot about that patch o' thick stuff right ahead?'

'That'll do,' said Dick; 'there's plenty of room all round it;' and the boys ran to the covert and crept into it.

'Now for the boot,' murmured Dick eagerly, as Chippy laid it down between them. 'Here you are, Chippy. Here's my pocket-knife, and there's a screw-driver in it.'

'Righto,' said the Raven. 'I was just a-thinkin' 'ow to open it.'

Chippy went to work with the screw-driver in Dick's knife, and in two minutes the heel-plate was off. The screws held the iron tip and a single thickness of leather in place as a cover on the rest of the heel. In the thickness of the heel was a small cavity out of which fell three closely folded scraps of paper. The boys opened the papers and looked at them. They could make nothing of the marks and signs with which the tiny sheets were covered.

'There don't seem no sense at all here,' remarked Chippy.

'Those are secret signs,' replied Dick, 'so that no one can understand the information except the people for whom it is meant. I expect they'd know fast enough, if once they got hold of it.'

'Well, they won't 'ave it this time,' said Chippy. 'Wot are we goin' to do wi' this?'

'I wonder where that sergeant is,' said Dick. 'I'll be bound that was his business on the heath, Chippy – not trying to keep convicts in, but trying to keep spies out.'

'I never took it in when he was tellin' us to tek' care o' the convic's,' said Chippy. 'Not but wot I thought at fust as one of 'em had got away.'

'So did I,' agreed Dick. 'I felt certain it was an escaped convict.'

'An' it wor' Albert,' murmured Chippy in wonder. 'Albert, wot 'ad been bad, an' come down from Lunnon for his health,' and Chippy chuckled dryly.

Before the papers were restored and the heel fastened up, Dick measured the hidden cavity with his thumb-nail. It was one inch and a quarter in length, one inch in breadth, and half an inch deep. 'Plenty of room for a lot of dangerous information there,' remarked Dick.

'What makes 'em so sharp on this game?' asked Chippy.

'Oh,' cried Dick, 'I've heard about that. A spy gets a great sum of money if he can carry back full information about the forts and soldiers of another country. You see, it is a great help if you are going to war with that country. You know just what you've got to meet, and you can be ready to meet it.'

'I see,' said Chippy. 'Well, I've done the boot up again. Now we'll have a look round for that sergeant. We've come straight back to the part where we seed 'im afore.'

'So we have,' said Dick; 'there's Woody Knap right in front of us again.'

'Hello! wot's that?' cried Chippy, whose eyes were always on the move. He was pointing through the covert towards the direction from which they had come. Something was moving in the distant gorse, and then they saw the spy. He was hobbling along at a good speed, his eyes bent on the ground.

'Here he comes again!' cried Dick, 'and, by Jingo, he's following our trail. I say, Chippy, he can do a bit of scouting, too.'

'That's a fact,' said Chippy, and began to steal out of the covert on the farther side. Before leaving it the two boys paused for a last look at the spy. His wounded foot was bound up in his cap with a handkerchief round it, and he was covering the ground at considerable speed. He was a first-rate tracker, and he was coming along their trail as easily as if he had been trotting on a plain road. For a few seconds the boys were held fascinated by the sight of this savage sleuth-hound at their heels. They were held as the rabbit is held, when he pauses in his flight, yet knows that all the time the weasel is following swiftly in quest of his life.

Suddenly the boys started, looked at each other, threw off the feeling, and ran away at their best speed, for the halt had given them their wind again.

'Good job we 'ad a place where we could see 'im a-comin',' remarked Chippy. 'I ain't a-goin' to forget that tip.'

'He sees us now,' cried Dick. 'He's coming faster.'

The boys were no longer hidden by the covert in which they had halted. They had come into the spy's field of view, and now he pursued by sight, and leapt out at the best speed he could make.

Chippy looked round. 'Droppin' 'is foot down a bit tender,' commented the Raven; 'we can choke 'im off any time we want on a rough patch.'

Dick now pulled out his patrol whistle, and began to blow it.

'I'll join yer,' said Chippy, and pulled out his. The two whistles sent their shrill blasts far over the heath, as the boys ran on and on, and the spy still pursued. The latter had faltered for a moment when the whistles rang out but he had recovered his speed and hastened forward. He thought that it was a trick, that the boys wished him to fear that they had support near at hand. If only he could seize the boy who carried his boot! That was his great hope.