The prefects looked at each other rather blankly. It was, of course, very flattering, and all that sort of thing, to be taken thus into the counsels of the redoubtable Doctor; but then, unfortunately, they hadn't the ghost of a notion what to suggest. At last Laughton said:-- "I should think, sir, the best plan would be for the owners of the shootings to increase their staff of keepers. It seems hard for them to lay the blame on the school when there's so little to justify the suspicion." "On the contrary, I think there is a good deal to justify it," returned the Doctor. "I think they have made out a _prima facie_ case. The question now is what steps I shall be called upon to take. I am very loth to put in force so grave a measure as withdrawing the privilege of rambling over the country and confining the school strictly to grounds, merely on suspicion, even though a strong suspicion. I have always held, too, that that privilege, combined with the natural healthiness of our situation, has not a little to do with the high reputation for health we have always enjoyed. But, if this goes on, I shall be obliged to take some such step." "Perhaps, sir, some of us might make it our business to go about a little and keep our eyes open," suggested Read, the other prefect. "That is just what I was thinking, Read," replied the Doctor. "If we can discover the offenders, I shall make a grave example of them, and it will be to the interest of the whole school. Meanwhile, let me impress upon you that I particularly wish this meeting to be considered a confidential one. To the other prefects its burden must, of course, be imparted, but beyond them I desire no information to leak out, for that might be to defeat our object entirely, for it is better for the evil-doers to be detected than to be only warned and to desist for a time. And at this we will leave it." And so they were dismissed. The while Haviland and his dusky accomplice, blissfully unconscious, were planning their great stroke, which had the additional attraction of tying yet another knot in Nick's tail. CHAPTER THIRTEEN. A GRIM TUSSLE. "I say, Cetchy, isn't this splendid?" said Haviland, drawing in long breaths of the cool night air. He was simply revelling in the sense of absolute liberty as he gazed around upon the dim fields, then up at the star-gemmed sky. "Oh, yes. Splendid, rather! Hangman's Wood long way--get morning very early," replied the other. The long, dark outline of the ill-omened covert loomed before them; and at sight of it Haviland could hardly restrain a wild paroxysm of laughter, as he remembered the last time they visited the place, and the awful scare they had put upon the unfortunate keeper. Just as they gained it, the moon in its last quarter arose above the tree tops. "It's awfully dark in here, Cetchy," whispered Haviland, as they stood within the gloomy depths of the wood. "These trees are too thick. We can't see a blessed bird."