So a serious Council started. The boys were paired off in twos—David and Hugh (the gamekeeper’s son), and Bill and Jack (the blacksmith’s son), and, of course, Nipper and little Bobby Brown.
We cannot here recount all that the Council decided, but we will follow each pair, and see what adventures befall them, as they set out, like the knights of old, bent on rescuing their captured chief.
It had been decided that Bill and Jack should go to the camp and reconnoitre. David and Hugh were bent on another quest—but more of that later.
The gipsies were striking camp. Black Bill seemed in a great hurry to get a move on, and was swearing at his men, right and left. Walking along the side of the meadow, by the hedge, Bill and Jack kept their eyes open for any clue that might present itself, and before long they were rewarded.
“Look!” whispered Bill, suddenly gripping his companion’s arm, and pointing. “Danny’s hat!”
Dropping into cover behind the hedge the two Cubs peered through at the strange sight before them—a ragged gipsy boy, barefooted, and clad in an old red shirt, wearing a P.L’s hat. The boy was busy clearing out the straw from the lion’s cage. There was no one near.
“Let’s ask him where he got it,” said Jack. “We might get some clues from him, and if we could get hold of the hat, it would be a proof that Danny was in the camp, and that something must have happened to him.” So the two Cubs stood up, and looked over the hedge at the gipsy boy.
“Where did you get that hat?” asked Bill. He had no intention of making an impertinent remark, but the boy seemed to see something very offensive in the question.
“Nah, then, none o’ yer cheek!” he said, and flung a lump of mud straight into Bill’s face. Bill was furious, and started forward, his temper fairly up, when Jack called him back to his senses.
“Don’t give in to yourself, you ass,” he said. “Don’t you see it’ll spoil the whole game?”