Ann Canham uttered a shrill scream, and flew away as fast as her legs could carry her. Perhaps of all living beings, Mr. Dumps was about the last she would wish to encounter just then. That gentleman made his way to a side-gate, and called after her. "What be you afeard of, Ann Canham? Did you think I was a mad bull looking over at you?" It occurred to Ann Canham that to start away in that extraordinary fashion could only be regarded as consistent with a guilty conscience, and the policeman might set himself to discover her motive--as it lay in the nature of a policeman to do. That or some other thought made her turn slowly back again, and confront Mr. Dumps. "What was you afeard of?" he repeated. "Of nothing in particular, please, sir," she answered. "It was the suddenness like of seeing a face that startled me." Mr. Dumps thought she looked curiously startled still. But that complacent official, accustomed to strike terror to the hearts of boys and other scapegraces, did not give it a second thought. "Were you looking for anyone?" he asked, simply as an idle question. "No, sir. I just put my head over the hedge without meaning. I didn't want nothing." Mr. Dumps loftily turned on his heel without condescending so much as a "good afternoon." Ann Canham pursued her way along the hedge which skirted the fold-yard. Any one observing her closely might have detected indications of fear about her still. In a cautious and timid manner, she at length turned her head, to obtain a glimpse of Mr. Dumps's movements. Dumps had turned into the road, and was pursuing his way slowly down it. Every step carried him farther from her; and when he was fairly out of sight, her sigh of relief was long and deep. But of course there was no certainty that he would not return. Possibly that insecurity caused Ann to take stolen looks into the fold-yard, and then dive under the hedge, as if she had been at some forbidden play. But Dumps did not return; and yet she continued her game. A full hour had she been at it: and by her countenance, and the occasional almost despairing movement of her hands, it might be inferred that she was growing sadly anxious and weary: when Jim Sanders emerged from one of the out-buildings at the upper end of the fold-yard, and began to make for the other end. To do this he had to pass within a few yards of the hedge where the by-play was going on; and somewhat to his surprise he heard himself called to in hushed tones. Casting his eyes to the spot whence the voice proceeded, he saw the care-worn brow and weak eyes of Ann Canham above the hedge. She beckoned to him mysteriously, and then all signs of her disappeared. "If ever I see the like o' that!" soliloquised Jim. "What's up with Ann Canham?" He approached the hedge, and bawled out to know what she wanted. "Hush--sh--sh--sh!" came the warning from the other side. "Come here, Jim."