"No, Peter Varco rowed Mr Trebarwith over, and he remained in the boat. Why do you ask?" questioned Coventry major. "Because we came across the spoor of a recent visitor in the Tea Caves," replied Atherton, and at Mr Trematon's suggestion the lad gave his companions of the "Wolves" and the two former guardians of the camp a detailed report of what had occurred. After tea, the Scoutmaster wrote a letter to the genial farmer, accepting his invitation, and stating that he hoped to bring the Scouts to Polkerwyck Farm to-morrow at nine-thirty. Mayne and Baker were despatched to take the missive to Mr Trebarwith, while the others were free to amuse themselves at camp games till half-past seven, when the camp fire was lighted for the customary evening palaver. Just before sunset Mr Trematon called the Leaders and Seconds of both patrols aside. "Atherton and Simpson, I want you to take charge of the camp till I return," he said. "Phillips and Neale will no doubt feel up to an evening stroll. I have reason to revisit the cliff immediately above the ledge leading to the Tea Caves." As the Scoutmaster and the two Seconds passed by the ruined oratory, Neale called attention to the wild yet beautiful sunset tints. There were streaks of deep purple, orange, pale yellow and indigo in the western sky, while rugged, dark grey clouds, tipped with copper-coloured points, gave every indication that the bad weather was at hand. "Yes," assented Mr Trematon, "the colours are remarkable. What do you say to a little experiment?" "An experiment, sir?" asked Neale. "How?" "Stand here, both of you, side by side," said the Scoutmaster. "Backs to the sunset: that's right. Now stretch your legs wide apart, place the palms of your hands together and bend forward till your fingertips touch the ground." The two Scouts promptly obeyed, wondering what was the reason for this exaggerated "leap-frog" posture. "Now look at the sunset," continued Mr Trematon. "The colours are ever so much brighter," exclaimed both lads, who, heads downwards, were observing the western sky between their outstretched legs. "They look too bright to be real." "All the same they are natural colours. Stand up now, or the circulation of the blood towards your head will be obstructed. Yes, it has a peculiar effect. An artist friend of mine gave me the tip. By so doing one can see the vividness of an Italian sky in the corresponding misty atmosphere of our native land. But we must be moving." Arriving at the edge of the cliff, Mr Trematon produced from his pocket a reel of black cotton. Cutting three or four twigs from a neighbouring bush, he set these in the ground so that they projected four inches from the surface. Their exposed ends he connected up by a length of cotton.