"Sound, sound the trumpet, beat the drum, To all the scouting world proclaim One crowded stalk upon the turn Is worth an age without a name." "Archie!" shrieked Myra in horror. "It is too late," she added, "all the ladies have swooned." We arranged sides. Myra and I and Simpson and Thomas against the others. They were to start first. "This isn't simply hide-and-seek," said Archie, as they went off. "You've got to track us fairly. We shall probably 'blaze' door-posts. When you hear the bleat of a tinned sardine that means we're ready. Keep your eyes skinned, my hearties, and heaven defend the right." "We ought to have bare knees really," said Myra, when they'd gone. "Boy scouts always do. So that when they go through a bed of nettles they know they've been." "I shall stalk the stairs to begin with," I said. "Simpson, you go down the back way and look as much like a vacuum-cleaner as possible. Then they won't notice you. Thomas and Myra---- Hush! Listen! Was that the bleat of a fresh sardine or the tinned variety?" "Tinned," said Myra. "Let's go." We went. I took the Queen Anne staircase on my--in the proper stalking position. I moved very slowly, searching for spoor. Half-way down the stairs my back fin slipped and I shot over the old oak at a tremendous pace, landing in the hall like a Channel swimmer. Looking up, I saw Thomas in front of me. He was examining the door for "blazes." Myra was next to him, her ear to the ground, listening for the gallop of horses' hoofs. I got up and went over to them. "Hast seen aught of a comely wench in parlous case, hight Mistress Dahlia?" I asked Thomas. "Boy scouts don't talk like that," he said gruffly. "I beg your pardon. I was thinking that I was a Cavalier and you were a Roundhead. Now I perceive that you are just an ordinary fathead." "Why," said Myra at the foot of the stairs, "what does this button mean? Have I found a clue?" I examined it, and then I looked at my own coat. "You have," I said. "Somebody has been down those stairs quite recently, for the button is still warm." "Where is Scout Simpson?" At that moment he appeared breathless with excitement. "I have had an adventure," he said hurriedly, without saluting. "I was on the back stairs looking like a vacuum-cleaner when suddenly Archie and Miss Blair appeared. They looked right at me, but didn't seem to penetrate my disguise. Archie, in fact, leant against me, and said to Miss Blair: 'I will now tell you of my secret mission. I carry caviare--I mean despatches--to the general. Breathe but a word of this to the enemy, and I miss the half-holiday on Saturday. Come, let us be going, but first to burn the secret code.' And--and then he struck a match on me, and burned it." Myra gurgled and hastily looked solemn again. "Proceed, Scout Simpson," she said, "for the night approaches apace."