These things are Life's Little Difficulties. One can never tellprecisely how one will act in a sudden emergency. The right thing forMike to have done at this crisis was to have ignored the voice,carried on up the water-pipe, and through the study window, and goneto bed. It was extremely unlikely that anybody could have recognisedhim at night against the dark background of the house. The positionthen would have been that somebody in Mr. Outwood's house had beenseen breaking in after lights-out; but it would have been verydifficult for the authorities to have narrowed the search down anyfurther than that. There were thirty-four boys in Outwood's, of whomabout fourteen were much the same size and build as Mike.

　　The suddenness, however, of the call caused Mike to lose his head. Hemade the strategic error of sliding rapidly down the pipe, andrunning.

　　There were two gates to Mr. Outwood's front garden. The carriage driveran in a semicircle, of which the house was the centre. It was fromthe right-hand gate, nearest to Mr. Downing's house, that the voicehad come, and, as Mike came to the ground, he saw a stout figuregalloping towards him from that direction. He bolted like a rabbit forthe other gate. As he did so, his pursuer again gave tongue.

　　"Oo-oo-oo yer!" was the exact remark.

　　Whereby Mike recognised him as the school sergeant.

　　"Oo-oo-oo yer!" was that militant gentleman's habitual way ofbeginning a conversation.

　　With this knowledge, Mike felt easier in his mind. Sergeant Collardwas a man of many fine qualities, (notably a talent for what he waswont to call "spott'n," a mysterious gift which he exercised on therifle range), but he could not run. There had been a time in his hotyouth when he had sprinted like an untamed mustang in pursuit ofvolatile Pathans in Indian hill wars, but Time, increasing his girth,had taken from him the taste for such exercise. When he moved now itwas at a stately walk. The fact that he ran to-night showed how theexcitement of the chase had entered into his blood.

　　"Oo-oo-oo yer!" he shouted again, as Mike, passing through the gate,turned into the road that led to the school. Mike's attentive earnoted that the bright speech was a shade more puffily delivered thistime. He began to feel that this was not such bad fun after all. Hewould have liked to be in bed, but, if that was out of the question,this was certainly the next best thing.

　　He ran on, taking things easily, with the sergeant panting in hiswake, till he reached the entrance to the school grounds. He dashed inand took cover behind a tree.

　　Presently the sergeant turned the corner, going badly and evidentlycured of a good deal of the fever of the chase. Mike heard him toil onfor a few yards and then stop. A sound of panting was borne to him.

　　Then the sound of footsteps returning, this time at a walk. Theypassed the gate and went on down the road.

　　The pursuer had given the thing up.

　　Mike waited for several minutes behind his tree. His programme now wassimple. He would give Sergeant Collard about half an hour, in case thelatter took it into his head to "guard home" by waiting at the gate.

　　Then he would trot softly back, shoot up the water-pipe once more, andso to bed. It had just struck a quarter to something--twelve, hesupposed--on the school clock. He would wait till a quarter past.

　　Meanwhile, there was nothing to be gained from lurking behind a tree.

　　He left his cover, and started to stroll in the direction of thepavilion. Having arrived there, he sat on the steps, looking out on tothe cricket field.

　　His thoughts were miles away, at Wrykyn, when he was recalled toSedleigh by the sound of somebody running. Focussing his gaze, he sawa dim figure moving rapidly across the cricket field straight for him.

　　His first impression, that he had been seen and followed, disappearedas the runner, instead of making for the pavilion, turned aside, andstopped at the door of the bicycle shed. Like Mike, he was evidentlypossessed of a key, for Mike heard it grate in the lock. At this pointhe left the pavilion and hailed his fellow rambler by night in acautious undertone.

　　The other appeared startled.

　　"Who the dickens is that?" he asked. "Is that you, Jackson?"Mike recognised Adair's voice. The last person he would have expectedto meet at midnight obviously on the point of going for a bicycleride.

　　"What are you doing out here, Jackson?""What are you, if it comes to that?"Adair was lighting his lamp.

　　"I'm going for the doctor. One of the chaps in our house is bad.""Oh!""What are you doing out here?""Just been for a stroll.""Hadn't you better be getting back?""Plenty of time.""I suppose you think you're doing something tremendously brave anddashing?""Hadn't you better be going to the doctor?""If you want to know what I think----""I don't. So long."Mike turned away, whistling between his teeth. After a moment's pause,Adair rode off. Mike saw his light pass across the field and throughthe gate. The school clock struck the quarter.

　　It seemed to Mike that Sergeant Collard, even if he had started towait for him at the house, would not keep up the vigil for more thanhalf an hour. He would be safe now in trying for home again.

　　He walked in that direction.

　　Now it happened that Mr. Downing, aroused from his first sleep by thenews, conveyed to him by Adair, that MacPhee, one of the juniormembers of Adair's dormitory, was groaning and exhibiting othersymptoms of acute illness, was disturbed in his mind. Mosthousemasters feel uneasy in the event of illness in their houses, andMr. Downing was apt to get jumpy beyond the ordinary on suchoccasions. All that was wrong with MacPhee, as a matter of fact, was avery fair stomach-ache, the direct and legitimate result of eating sixbuns, half a cocoa-nut, three doughnuts, two ices, an apple, and apound of cherries, and washing the lot down with tea. But Mr. Downingsaw in ............