As they were scampering along Dick cried out, "Hullo! there’s Braithwaite!—Come on, Dandy, and have a game! ’Twill do you good after all that dry stuff at Gayton to-day!" "All right," replied Braithwaite, who did not often join in these rough sports; "where are you going?" "Up to the rocks. Come along; we’ll give the rest a breather!" And off he went, light of foot and heart and, I am afraid, somewhat light of head. Indeed it was partly owing to one of his mischievous pranks that the incident which I am about to relate occurred. After playing a considerable time on the rocks, they went back across the bay. It was getting dusk now, and the tide, though still some distance out, was flowing shoreward. Some of the boys, wishing their companions good-night, started for home; five or six gathered at the stone bridge for a chat. Then it was that Dick Boden made his unfortunate proposal. "I’ve thought of a ripping game," said he. "See this knife? I’ll hide it somewhere in the Old Fort, and you can try to find it." "It will soon be dark," objected Braithwaite. "Not too dark to see the knife, for a bit." "The tide’s coming in too, and you know how fast it comes in just here." "Oh, go on, Dick!" cried Jim scornfully; "don’t take any notice of him: he’s always showing the white feather!" Braithwaite flushed. "You think you’re very brave, Jim Hartland," he said, "but you’re no braver than any one else. I’m not afraid of going to the Fort." "Oh, not a bit!" sneered Jim; "you’d walk across to France if the sea was all dry land. Make haste, Dick; we’ll come on slowly. Call out when you’re ready." Dick, who was now half-way across, soon disappeared in the ruin, and presently they heard him shouting, "Come on!" Perhaps the catastrophe might not have occurred even then; but, unfortunately, Jim, who was eager to be first, put out his hand to push Braithwaite aside; whereupon the latter, evidently thinking this a challenge, ran forward. Jim followed with young Moon, and two others brought up the rear. "Bravo, Dandy!" cried Dick, who was waiting for them. "Now then, spread yourselves out, my amateur detectives, and search for the lost property. Well done, Dandy; you’re hot on the scent. O Tommy Moon, O Tommy Moon, I’m sure you’ll find it very soon." Whether Braithwaite remembered the danger I cannot tell, but the others forgot everything in hunting for the knife and listening to Dick’s nonsense. Laughing and joking, he led them on, keeping their noses to the grindstone, as it were, though without result. "I don’t believe he’s hidden it at all!" grumbled Tom Moon at last, stretching his cramped legs. "You young fraud!" cried Jim suddenly; "I believe the knife’s in your pocket." "I told you ’twas a ripping game!" chuckled the Angel, preparing to run. "Whoop!" And he was off like a shot. "After him!" cried Jim. Then from those nearest the bridge came a shout of "Make haste! Quick! quick! The water’s in!"