Then there was a dull thud as the light was momentarily obscured, and another rabbit caught in a wire was thrown in.

"Now for it," thought Tom, and he involuntarily stretched out his hand to seize the stick close to the bed, but clenched his fist instead, and stood there in his confined stooping position ready to defend himself, but sorry that he had not boldly gone out at once.

Suddenly there was a fresh darkening of the light, and Tom did seize the stout stick and hold it lance fashion, for the dog had leaped down into the hole, and now stood at the little entrance to the cave growling savagely.

"Let 'em alone," cried Pete, "d'yer hear? Let 'em alone."

But the dog paid no heed. It stood there with its eyes glaring, showing its teeth, and threatening unheard-of worryings of the interloper.

Still Pete did not grasp the situation. The dog in his estimation was disobeying him by attempting to worry dead rabbits; and, leaping down into the hole, he kicked savagely at it, making it yelp loudly and bound out of the hole, Pete, whose legs up to the waist had now been visible to Tom, scrambling after the animal, abusing it with every epithet he could think of, and driving it before him through the wood.

"My chance," thought Tom, and he sprang out, and making a circuit, struck out for home without seeing either Pete or his dog again.

But Tom did not feel satisfied, for it seemed to him that he was behaving in a cowardly way; and as he tramped along the lane, he wished that he had walked out boldly and confronted his enemy instead of remaining in hiding. Taken altogether, he felt thoroughly grumpy as he approached the cottage, and it did not occur to him that his sensation of depression had a very simple origin. In fact it was this. He had risen before the sun, and had a very long walk, going through a good deal of exertion without having broken his fast. When breakfast was half over he felt in the highest spirits, for his uncle had made no allusion to the adventure in the garden over-night.

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.

Tom saw very little of Pete Warboys during the next fortnight or so.

The fruit kept on ripening, and twice over raids were made upon the garden, but whoever stole the fruit left no clue but a few footmarks behind, and these were always made by bare feet.

"It's that there Pete," said David; "but foots is foots, and I don't see how we can swear as they marks is hisn."

Meanwhile the telescope progressed, and busy work was in progress in the mill, where a large tube was being constructed by securing thin narrow boards planed very accurately to half-a-dozen iron hoops by means of screws and nuts.

Then came a day when Uncle Richard found that he must go to town again to get sundry fittings from an optician, and Tom was left the task of grinding three small pieces of plate-gla.s.s together, so as to produce one that was an accurate plane or flat.

It was understood that Uncle Richard would not be back for three days, and after seeing him off, Tom felt important in being left in full charge, as he was in the lower part of the mill polishing away when the door was darkened.

"How are you getting on, sir?" said David, as he stood there smiling.

"Pretty well; but this is a long job."

"What are you doing, sir?"

"Polishing these gla.s.ses together so as to get one of them perfectly flat."

"Tchah! that's easy enough. What d'yer want 'em so flat for?"

"So as to make a reflector that will send back a ray of light quite exact--a perfect mirror."

"That's a looking-gla.s.s, arn't it, sir?"

"Yes."

"I wish you'd make one, sir, as would work o' nights, and show us when Pete Warboys comes arter my pippins. That'd bang all yer tallow-scoops."

"Impossible, David."

"Yes, sir, s'posed so when I said it. But I say, Master Tom."

"Yes."

"That chap's sure to know as your uncle's gone to London for two or three days."

"Yes; you can't move here without its being known, David," said Tom, polishing away, and making his fingers dirty.

"Then, don't you see, sir?"

"No; what?"

"Pete'll be coming to-night, as sure as there's meat in eggs."

"Think so?" said Tom, who felt a peculiar thrill run through him.

"I'm sure on it, sir. There is a deal o' fruit left to pick yet, and you and me can do that little job better than Pete Warboys."

"Let's go down and watch then."

"Will you, sir?"

"Yes, David, I'll come. But don't go to sleep this time."

"Nay, I won't trust you," said the gardener, laughing softly. "You'll get hitting at me again instead of at Pete. I arn't forgetted that swipe you give me that night."

"Well, you gave it back to me with interest," said Tom.

"Ay, that's so, sir; I did. But it wouldn't do for master to come and find all our late apples gone."

"What time shall we begin then?"

"Not a minute later than six, sir."

And punctually to that hour Tom stole down the garden and found David, who began to chuckle softly--

"Got yer stick, Master Tom?"

"Yes; got yours?"

"No, sir, I've got something better. Feel this."

"A rope?"

"Yes, sir, and a noose in it, as runs easy."

"To tie him?"