gave a long, low whistle. 'He was dodging the sergeant, Chippy!'
'It's a convict!' said Chippy. 'Can't be nuthin' else!'
For a moment the boys discussed the plan of running after the sergeant and laying the matter before him, but they gave it up, for several reasons. He was a good way ahead, and out of sight. He might turn right or left across the open heath, and in that case they would have to hunt his track while their quarry was going farther and farther away. They decided to stick to their man, and turned to his spoor.
'Here's his road,' said Dick, pointing along a grassy glade. 'He's gone on, and he must have gone this way. It's all bramble and gorse everywhere else, and a man isn't going through that in his stockings.'
Chippy nodded in agreement, and the two scouts ran at full apeed along the narrow ribbon of grass between the prickly, spiny bushes.
'He'll soon put his boots on again,' said Dick,' and then we'll get this line a lot easier.'
But the fugitive had not stayed to do so for a long way, as was plain from the flat, smooth marks which the boys found twice in soft places. Then the trail went again, and they pulled up and began to beat round in search of it. It was Dick this time who uttered the cry of the peewit, and Chippy ran up to find his brother scout holding a fragment of something in his fingers.
'Picked it up just here,' said Dick. 'What do you reckon it is. Chippy?'
'Bit of an old cork sock,' replied the Raven.
'Just so,' said Dick, 'and it's quite dry, so it was dropped here since the rain.'
'One to you,' said Chippy; 'that come out of 'is boot – jerked out as 'e was runnin'. We're on the line.'
He made a few steps forward, then gave a low cry. 'Here's the place where he put 'is boots on,' called Chippy eagerly. 'Here's all sorts o' marks.' And then Chippy gave another low cry, this time full of such astonishment and wonder that Dick looked at him quickly.
To Dick's surprise, Chippy seemed fixed to the spot, his finger pointing, his eyes staring, his mouth gaping open, as if he could not believe what he saw. 'I know the tracks,' gasped Chippy. 'I know 'im! I can tell yer who it is!'
CHAPTER XIII
ALBERT, WHO WASN'T ALBERT
'You know who it is?' cried Dick. 'Well, who?'
'It's Albert,' said Chippy. 'It ain't no convict at all. It's Albert.'
'Who's Albert?' asked Dick.
Chippy told the story of his grandmother's lodger, and pointed to the heel-mark before them. It was the first time since they hit the trail that the heel-mark had been clearly shown. 'Screws in the heel-tip,' said Chippy. 'That settles it. It's Albert.'
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