"There he is!"
"Quietly! We'll get him!"
"He's made friends with Cæsar!"
"Quite a small man."
"Almost a boy."
There was a horrible suspicion at the heart of William's father, but he followed with the rest. The figure disappeared behind a laurel bush. They followed, still on tip-toe. Behind the bush they found only Cæsar finishing the remains of the pie and Jumble watching him with wistful envy.
"Catch the old villain before he makes off," said Mr. Beal, and they hastened on to the hedge at the end of the garden and looked over it. There a glorious sight met their eyes. Dick the Dauntless was fighting for his life against hundreds of foes. He punched and butted and dodged and closed. Thousands fell at each stroke. He was dimly aware of three heads watching him over the hedge, but he had no time to look at them. He heard vague sounds, such as:
"Go it, William!"
"Get one in now, old chap!"
"Jolly good! Jolly good!"