It was after nine when the two officers arrived at Barborough. Here they found that the next train on to Tarleigh would not leave for another hour and a half. "There's no particular hurry," remarked Billy. "But, all the same, I don't see why we should cool our heels in this draughty show. I vote we walk." He could not help wondering why his father had not been waiting for him on the platform. Perhaps he was even now on his way with the car--that wretched magneto ought to be repaired by this time. "I'm on," assented the A.P. "How about our gear? We can't lug it those five or six miles." "Hanged if I haven't overlooked that problem," said Barcroft. "Let's take a taxi." The taxi deposited the two chums at the door of Ladybird Fold at precisely the same moment that a telegraph boy was delivering a couple of telegrams. "You did look awfully surprised to see us, mother," remarked Billy after the preliminary exchange of greetings. "This is my great pal, Kirkwood--Billy Kirkwood. You've heard me mention him many a time." "Of course we are delighted to see you, Mr. Kirkwood," said Mrs. Barcroft. "It is, as Billy says, a surprise." "But didn't you get my wire?" asked the flight-sub. "I suppose it is one of these," remarked his mother, opening one of the envelopes. She read the contents, a puzzled expression on her face. Then, without a word she handed it to her son. "Silly asses!" exclaimed Billy, for the wire was from the Admiralty expressing regret that Flight-sub-lieutenant William Barcroft was reported missing. "However, it doesn't much matter now. Would have been awkward if we weren't here to show that it's a mistake. Look here--handed in three days ago. Delayed in transmission. Didn't you get my wire from Holland?" Mrs. Barcroft shook her head. "I gave that rascally hotel porter a couple of gulder to take the telegraph form to the post-office," declared the flight-sub. "Ten to one he stuck to the tip and the money for the wire as well. Where's the governor?" "He went out early this morning with Mr. Norton," replied Mrs. Barcroft. "The fellow who got adrift on the night of the Zep, raid? He turned up all right after all, then. Where have they gone?" "Towards Windyhill. They went rabbit-shooting." "Windyhill? Where's that, mater?" asked Billy. "We may as well stroll over that way, Bobby. No, thanks, mater, we don't require any lunch at present. Had second breakfast on the train. You can hang out till one o'clock, my festive?" "Rather," declared the A.P. "Let's go and meet Mr. Barcroft and help carry back the spoils." Receiving directions from Mrs. Barcroft the two chums set off on their quest. Half way down the lane leading to the Dingle Dell they suddenly encountered Philip Entwistle. "Mornin'," said Billy with a laugh. "How are you? Recovered from that donkey-trip of ours yet?" "Quite--absolutely," replied Entwistle. "So you are on leave again? I'm glad--very glad. There's a little matter upon which I should like to speak."