there his worst fears were realised. His silver cabinet was shorn of the brightest jewel in its crown. His teapot had gone. His Georgian teapot. And his godmother was coming to tea to-morrow. He must act at once. Perhaps the Vicar had a dual personality —a sort of Jekyll and Hyde personality—part of him a Vicar and the other a thief. He must get it back at any cost. Pale with horror, he set off again down the road towards the Vicarage. On the road he met four boys. One of them was the boy who had treated Eglantine so outrageously that morning. That reminded him. He mustn't forget to go and see his father tomorrow. The Outlaws stood and watched his figure till it was out of sight. Then William said sternly:
" Well, he's takin' a jolly long time to get off. I thought he was fleein' the last time we saw him."
" He's gettin' his loot together," said Henry. " Pity we didn't take a few more of those silver things he'd stole an' stop him gettin' off abroad with 'em. That cupboard was full of 'em."
" Let's get some of 'em now," said William. " If I've got back a lot of stole things it'll sort of make it all right case anyone's told my father about that pig. I remember now there was a sort of silver cream jug and sugar basin that went with the teapot. I bet they mus' be the Vicar's, too. He prob'ly took 'em at the same time. I bet he'd be jolly grateful to me if I got 'em back, too. He'd prob'ly be so grateful that he'd ask my father to take me to the pantomine anyway, even if someone 'd told him about that pig."
The Outlaws looked rather doubtful.
" I don't know that I would," said Douglas. " He might come back and he'd be desperate, of course, with bein' found out."
" Well, I'll jus' have a try," said William; " the rest of you keep a look-out down the road and jus' give the danger whistle if you see him comin'."
The Outlaws had an elaborate code of whistles which