'I say, Dick,' said Billy Seton, corporal of the Wolves, 'there's a fellow been following us from the town. He's kept at a distance, dodging behind bushes and gorse on the heath, but I'm sure he was after us. I've looked back a dozen times, and seen him making ground when he thought he wouldn't be observed.'
'That's odd,' said Dick. 'Why should anyone want to follow you?'
'To see where we were going, I suppose,' replied Billy; 'and though I've never had a fair look at him, there seemed to me something familiar about the chap. I can't make it out.'
'Where is he now?' asked Dick.
'Haven't seen him for quite a bit,' replied Billy; 'but I've an idea he's watching us from somewhere.'
The words had scarcely fallen from Billy's lips when a boy in civilian dress stepped from the shelter of a clump of hollies and walked swiftly towards the patrol.
'Why, it's Arthur Graydon!' cried Dick in surprise.
'So it is,' said Billy; 'no wonder I thought I knew him.'
Yes, it was the lost leader of the Wolves who now came striding up to his old friends, as the latter stared at him in wonder.
Arthur's face was pale, and his teeth were clenching his under-lip; but he had made up his mind, and he said what he had to say like a man.