Whether he would actually have done so, or whether he only meant to frighten us, I cannot tell; but he did not get the opportunity, for, dropping the kettle, Dick seized my hand, and dragged me down the hill at such a breakneck speed that I could scarcely keep on my feet, while George and Cathy raced behind as if they were possessed of seven-leagued boots. With the old captain's angry shouts ringing in our ears, we scrambled somehow over the fence at the bottom of the wood, and never stopped running till we were quite a long way up the high-road, and within a safe distance of Marshlands again. [Illustration: "DICK SEIZED MY HAND AND DRAGGED ME DOWN THE HILL"] "Of course we weren't in the very least in a funk for ourselves," explained Dick afterwards. "If it had only been the Babe and myself, we'd have stayed and tackled them both, and enjoyed the fun, but I thought the old madman was going for you girls, and the best thing to do was to clear out of his way as quick as we could. Is he gorging on our tea and cakes, I wonder? It would be like his cheek. Perhaps he'll annex the tea-cups, too, while he's about it." But the captain was honest as regarded our property. That same evening the old gardener arrived at the back-door, and with an imperturbable countenance handed our baskets to the astonished cook, stalking away without uttering a word, in spite of the many questions she hurled at his head. After this the boys declared it was war to the knife. They had not intended to do any harm in the wood, and therefore, they argued, the captain's action was quite unjustifiable; and as he had shown intentions of not confining the use of his riding-whip to his own sex, he had forfeited all claim to be treated as a gentleman, and his conduct must be repaid with interest. This time they did not take Cathy and me into their confidence beforehand, though from various dark hints we imagined they must have some scheme of revenge brewing in their minds. They came home one evening brimming over with satisfaction. "Done him at last!" chuckled Dick. "It was the Babe's idea, too, not mine, so I won't take the credit of it. You know the old duffer has a gorgeous pear-tree at the end of his garden; well, we just stood in the lane outside with our catapults, and shot pellets into the pears as hard as we could go. We've been wiring into them all the afternoon. Fancy they'll taste a little gritty when he comes to eat them! Too bad? Not at all! Serves the old beggar right!" Cathy and I, however, felt somewhat uneasy, thinking the boys had gone rather too far. "If the captain finds out who has done it," said Cathy, "and complains to Father, they'll get into the most dreadful row. He can be terribly angry over some of their scrapes." We waited rather anxiously for further developments, and they were not long in coming. On the very next day a large basket of pears was delivered at Marshlands by the old gardener, "with Captain Vernon's compliments".