“No,” said the policeman, getting a strip of paper out of his pocket, and looking at a photograph there. “Come you here, my lad. I think you’re one of the runaway children - let’s have a look at you.”
Jack turned pale. If the policeman had a picture of him, he was caught! Quick as lightning the boy flung down the two sticks on which he had a dozen or so baskets strung, and darted off through the crowd that had gathered. Hands were put out to stop him, but he struggled away, tearing his jacket, but not caring for anything but to escape.
He slipped round a corner and into a garden. He darted round the cottage there and peered into the back garden. There was no one there - but there was a little henhouse at the side. Jack made up his mind quickly. He opened the door of the henhouse, slipped inside, and crouched down in the straw there, hardly daring to breathe. There were no hens there - they were scratching about in the little run outside.
Jack heard the sound of shouting and running feet, and he knew that people were looking for him. He crouched lower, hoping that no one had seen him dart into the cottage garden.
The running feet went by. The shouting died down. No one had seen him! Jack let out a big breath, and his heart thumped loudly. He was really frightened.
He stayed in the henhouse all day long. He did not dare to move out. He was hungry and thirsty and very cramped, but he knew quite well that if he slipped out he might be seen. He must stay there till night. He wondered what Mike would think. The girls would be anxious, too.
A hen came in, sat on a nesting-box and laid an egg. She cackled and went out again. Another came in and laid an egg. Jack hoped that no one would see him if they came looking for eggs that afternoon!
Someone did come for the eggs - but it was after tea and the henhouse was very dark. The door was opened and a head came round. A hand was stretched out and felt in all the boxes. The eggs were lifted out - the door was shut again! Jack hadn’t been seen! He was crouching against the other side of the house, well away from the nesting-boxes!
The henhouse did not smell nice. Jack felt miserable as he sat there on the floor. He knew that by running away he had as good as told the policeman that he was one of the runaways. And now the whole countryside would be searched again, and the secret island would probably be explored, too.
“But if I hadn’t run away the policeman would have caught me and made me tell where the others were,” thought the boy. “If only I can get to where Mike is waiting with the boat, and get back safely to the island, we can make preparations to hide everything.”