They held--oh, distinkly held--that they were winning. They won the marvellous game as soon as it began. They never had a doubt about the end. But their supreme, superb discovery was this: They had always secretly longed to find the elusive hider; they now realised that _he_--wanted them to find him, and that from his hiding-place he saw them easily. That was the most wonderful thing of all.... To describe the separate adventures of each seeker would involve a series of bulky trilogies no bookshelves in the world could carry; they can, besides, be adequately told in three simple words that Tim used--shouted with intense enthusiasm when he tripped over a rabbit-hole and tumbled headlong against that everlasting Tramp: "I'm still looking!" He dived away into another hole. "I'm looking still." "So am I," the Tramp answered, also in three words. "I'm _very_ warm," growled Stumper; "I'm getting on," Aunt Emily piped; and while Judy was for ever shouting out "I've found him!" Uncle Felix, puffing and panting, could only repeat with rapture each time he met another seeker: "A lovely day! A _lovely_ day!" They said so little--experienced and felt so much! From time to time, too, others joined them in the tremendous game. It seemed the personality of the Tramp attracted them. Something about him--his sincerity, perhaps, or his simplicity--made them realise suddenly what they were about: as though they had not noticed it before, not understood it quite, at any rate. They found themselves. He did and said so little. But he possessed the unique quality of a Leader--natural persuasion. Thompson, for instance, cleaning the silver at the pantry window, looked up and saw them pass. They caught him unawares. His pompous manner hung like a discarded mask on a nail beside his livery. He wore his black and white striped waistcoat, and an apron. Of course he looked proper, as an old family servant ought to look, but he looked cheerful too. He was humming to himself as he polished up the covers and the candelabra. "Well, I never!" he exclaimed, as the line of them filed by. "I never did. And Mr. Weeden with 'em too!" The Tramp passed singing and looked through the open window at the butler. No more than that. Their eyes met between the bars. They exchanged glances. But something incalculable happened in that instant, just as it had happened to Stumper, Aunt Emily, and the rest of them. Thompson put several questions into his look of sheer astonishment. "Why not?" the Tramp replied, chuckling as he caught the butler's eye. "It's a lovely morning. We're just looking!" Thompson was flabbergasted--as if all the old-fashioned families of the world had suddenly praised him. All his life he had never done anything but his ordinary duty. "It's 'oliday time," said Weeden, coming next, "and all my flowers and vegitubles is a-growin' nicely." He too seemed singing, dancing. Something had happened. The whole world seemed out and playing.