They passed through some clumps of small cedars and thin birches, stumbling now and then over cradle-knolls and pitching into little depressions. It was a clear night and starlit, but the shadows in the half darkness were confusing. A lamp gleamed in the kitchen window, above them, and they could see someone moving past the window from time to time. "Ellison hasn't gone to bed," remarked Harvey. "Well, what of it?" replied Henry Burns. "Not scared of him, are you?" "No," answered Harvey. "But he's touchy about this brook. Ever since he caught Willie Dodd setting a net there one night he's been crazy for fear he'd lose some of these trout." "I know what's the matter with you," said Henry Burns. "It's this dress. You wouldn't have anyone catch us with it for a million dollars." "You bet I wouldn't," answered Harvey. Harvey's nerves, usually the steadiest, were not proof against even a slight alarm; for when, a few moments later, his companion touched him lightly on an arm and motioned for him to be still, he waited, keyed up to a high point of excitement and ready for a dash across the fields. "What is it?" he whispered. "Sh-h!" replied Henry Burns, clutching his bundle tight under one arm, and peering through the scattered alders, into which they had penetrated. "I heard a step." They waited, anxiously. It was Harvey's turn, however, to enjoy a laugh at the expense of his comrade, as the steps that the quick ear of Henry Burns had heard were continued, this time with an unmistakable crackling of undergrowth. "There's your prowler, Henry," he said, laughing softly and slapping his friend between the shoulders. "She's got two horns, but I guess she won't hook, unless she sees through that box and gets a sight of that dress." A look of relief overspread Henry Burns's face, as a Jersey cow stalked slowly through the brush and stood gazing inquiringly at the two boys. But, observing her for a moment, it did not escape Henry Burns that the animal suddenly gave a spring and turned and faced the other way, as though some noise behind had surprised her. Henry Burns clutched his comrade and pointed back past the cow. Harvey's eyes followed where he pointed. The figure of a man was plainly to be seen, stealing along in the shadows of the clumps of bushes. They paused not another instant, but dashed forward, heedless now of the noise they made, thrusting branches aside and leaping from one knoll to another where the soil was boggy. At the same moment Farmer Ellison, brandishing a club, emerged into plain view and darted after them, crying out as he ran. "Stop there!" he shouted. "I'll shoot yer if yer don't stop. I'll have no nets set in this stream. Just let me lay this club on your backs." They only fled the faster. "He won't shoot," gasped Henry Burns. "Make for the foot of the dam. We'll cross the brook."