They had walked for perhaps a few minutes, and were strolling on, chatting as they went, when they suddenly heard a shout in front of them, and someone came crashing through the undergrowth and stood barring their path. The somebody in question was undoubtedly very angry. He was a fair, short, stout, roundabout little man, with a big blond moustache. His light-blue eyes flashed, and his large teeth gleamed unpleasantly as he spoke. But he not only spoke, he shouted. "What are you doing here? Do you know this wood's private property? You've no business to be in it! Get out as fast as you can, the same way you came! Be quick about it, or I'll know the reason why. I could have you all taken up for trespassing if I liked. Why, _Pamela_!" Pamela was standing staring at the surly objector, with a look of mingled amazement, disgust, and defiance in her clear eyes. "It's my fault, Uncle," she replied calmly. "It's a short cut to the station through this wood, and to-day I brought these--friends"--she hesitated for a moment over the word--"with me. I come this way nearly every morning." "Then you won't do it again!" thundered the short man. "Don't let me ever catch you here any more, or any of your friends. You may understand that once and for all, and I'll be obeyed. Go back, I tell you!" He waved them savagely in the direction of the gate through which they had come. "Mayn't we go on just this once?" pleaded Pamela. "I'm afraid we'll miss our train." "Then miss it! What do I care? It's your own faults for trespassing, and I hope you'll all get into trouble at school. You richly deserve it. Back, I tell you, you young rascals!" With an angry man raving like a lunatic in their path, there was nothing for it but to beat a retreat as speedily as they could. When they had passed through the gate, David looked at his watch. "Five past eight! Thunder! We shall have to sprint if we want to catch that train." There was no time for comment. All four immediately set off running. Each, perhaps, was buoyed up with an obstinate determination to reach the station by 8.15 in spite of the unamiable hopes of the owner of the wood. They only wished he could be there to see them defeat his prophecy. In spite of such hindrances as bumping satchels, streaming hair, and, in Anthony's case, a trailing bootlace, they panted along, and covered the ground somehow. They could hear the train rumbling in the distance, and could see the smoke of the engine as they raced down the last hill. By the greatest of good luck a special cargo of milk-cans and butter baskets had to be placed that morning in the luggage van, and the extra two minutes spent in stowing them away saved the situation. The guard was just waving his green flag as the Watsons and Pamela, scarlet with their exertions, popped into the last carriage. For a few minutes they were too breathless to speak. It was Anthony who first found words. "Well, of all raggy old lunatics commend me to that one!"