'Only!' snorted Chippy. 'See wot's under my arm?'
Dick looked, and, precious as wind was, he let out a yell of delight. In the excitement of the flight he had not observed it; tucked under Chippy's arm was the spy's boot. The Raven had whipped it up, and carried it on at the moment of escape.
Dick at once saw what Chippy meant. Hitherto they had been running over clear open grass, and the spy, even with one boot off and one boot on, had made tremendous headway, but the burnt furze was close at hand, and here they would show him another dance altogether.
They were approaching a broad belt of land which had been swept by a heath-fire. The furze-bushes had been very thick on the ground, and had been burned away to the very foot of the stems. Now those close-standing stems pushed short spikes above the soil like the teeth of a huge harrow pointing upwards, each tooth blackened, hardened, and pointed by fire.
The spy was not ten yards behind the boys when the latter burst into the flame-swept belt of heath. Their boots kicked up clouds of black ashes as they bounded forward, and their pursuer followed at once. Twice he put his unprotected foot down in safety, missing by sheer luck the thickly planted spikes, but the third time he set the very middle of his sole on a short stout fang standing bolt upright, and pointed by fire as if with a knife.
He let out a yell of agony as the spike, by the force of his weight and speed, was driven home into his foot.
'Got 'im,' said Chippy, and the two scouts turned to see their enemy, doubled up on the ground, utterly crippled for the time by that shrewd thrust from below.
'I knowed that 'ud settle 'im, if we could on'y get on to it,' chuckled Chippy, while the boys eased their speed, but still ran steadily on. 'I've 'ad my foot cut on a burnt root afore now.'
'Oh, Chippy,' said Dick, 'what a touch to bring his boot! That was splendid.'
''Tworn't a bad notion,' agreed Chippy. 'We'll leg it a bit again, an' then 'ave a look at it.'