"Oh," said Geraldine, "that must be the man that spoke to us just now, and asked his way. If you run right on, Wyn, you could catch him." Wyn rushed off, but presently came back, overtaking the girls again as they came up to the lodge. "It wasn't the same man, Miss Geraldine," he said. "The man I met was a stout party with a red beard, and this one was a deal thinner, and a black-haired chap, too." "Then there's two strange men in the wood," said Florence. At this moment the keeper himself appeared, carrying his gun, and saluting his young lady; and all three children began to tell their stones. Warren took them very quietly. "I'll keep a look-out, ma'am," he said to Geraldine; "but strangers do pass through the wood. There's artists about nowadays. They scare the birds dreadful. And, as for you, Wyn, you'd best go and look for that there note first thing in the morning: you'd no business to let it drop." "I think the man who spoke to me looked like an artist," said Geraldine as she went off. "Florrie," said Wyn, as his father went into the house, "I don't think that the man who gave me the letter for Mr Edgar _was_ one of the Raby or Ashwood keepers or gardeners; he hadn't the cut somehow, and he'd have known Mr Edgar was at the Hall. And he did stare _that_ hard at me." "So did the other man at us," said Florence. "Was he a bird-catcher down from London, do you think?" said Wyn astutely. "No," said Florence, "he looked too much the gentleman." "I'm sure he hadn't a red beard, aren't you?" said Wyn. "Red beard? No--d'ye think I haven't eyes in my head? He'd a pointed sort of black beard--same shape as Mr Cunningham's--only his is grey; and black eyes, looking right at you, like the squire's do. But, dear me, _I_ think a fellow creature or two's a great improvement in that there lonesome wood. I'd sooner meet a man than a snake any day. And I believe I'd sooner meet a snake than nothing among all them trees!" "The trees don't set no traps nor springs," said Wyn, "and snakes aren't common in our wood, and wriggles off pretty quick if you do meet with one." "Do you think your man was a poacher?" said Florence. "Well, Florrie," said Wyn, "there's all sorts of people come after game in these days. _I_ shall keep my eyes open. Hallo! here's mother calling us in to supper." In pursuance of this resolve, Wyn kept his eyes the next day open at their widest, but neither red beard, black eyes, nor letter came into his view, and the only thing he did see when he came disconsolately back again was a great owl's nest that had apparently been pulled out of an old hollow tree on the Ravenshurst side of the wood and thrown on the ground. Wyn was sorry; he thought the owls would never nest there again, and he would have had a chance next spring of getting a young one for Mr Edgar.