Free Five Go Off to Camp by Enid Blyton Page B

them.'
    Jock chuckled. 'I wish I could. The worst of it is Mum is awful y pleased that my stepfather's got this Cecil boy for me to be friends with. Don't let's talk about it. Are you ready to start off?'
    'Yes,' said Julian, and began to scramble quietly out of his bag. 'We didn't tell the girls.
    Anne doesn't want to come, and I don't want George to leave Anne by herself. Now, let's be very, very quiet til we're out of hearing.'
    Dick got out of his bag too. The boys had not undressed that night, except for their coats, so al they had to do was to slip these on, and then crawl out of the tent.
    'Which is the way - over there?' whispered Jock. Julian took his arm and guided him. He hoped he wouldn't lose his way in the starlit darkness. The moorland look so different at night!
    'If we make for that hil you can dimly see over there against the starlit sky, we should be going in the right direction,' said Julian. So on they went, keeping towards the dark hil that rose up to the west.
    It seemed very much farther to the railway yard at night than in the daytime. The three boys stumbled along, sometimes almost fal ing as their feet caught in tufts of heather.
    They were glad when they found
    some sort of path they could keep on.
    'This is about where we met the shepherd,' said Dick, in a low voice. He didn't know why he spoke so quietly. He just felt as if he must. 'I'm sure we can't be very far off now.'

    '[Tiey went on for some way, and then Julian pul ed Dick by the arm. 'Look,' he said.
    'Down there, I believe that's the old yard. You can see the line gleaming faintly here and there.'
    They stood on the heathery slope above the old yard, straining their eyes. Soon they could make out dim shapes. Yes, it was the railway yard all right.
    Jock clutched Julian's sleeve. 'Look - there's a light down there! Do you see it?'
    The boys looked - and, sure enough, down in the yard towards the other side of it, was a small yel ow light. They stared at it.
    'Oh - I think I know what it is,' said Dick, at last. 'It's the light in the watchman's little hut -
    old Wooden-Leg Sam's candle. Don't you think so, Ju?'
    'Yes. You're right,' said Julian. 'I tel you what we'll do - we'll creep right down into the yard, and go over to the hut. We'll peep inside and see if old Sam is there. Then we'll hide somewhere about and wait for the spook-train to come!'
    They crept down the slope. Their eyes had got used to the starlight by now, and they were beginning to see fairly wel . They got right down to the yard, where their feet made a noise on some cinders there.
    They stopped. 'Someone wil hear us if we make a row like this,' whispered Julian.
    'Who wil ?' whispered back Dick. 'There's no one here except old Sam in his hut!'
    'How do you know there isn't?' said Julian. 'Good heavens, Jock, don't make such a row with your feet!'
    They stood there, debating what was the best thing to do. 'We'd better walk right round the edge of the yard,' said Julian at last. 'As far as I remember, the grass has grown there.
    We'll walk on that.'
    So they made their way to the edge of the yard. Sure enough, there was grass there, and they walked on it without a sound. They went slowly and softly to where the light shone dimly in Sam's little hut.
    The window was high and small. It was just about at the level of their heads, and the three boys cautiously eased themselves along to it and looked in.
    Wooden-Leg Sam was there. He sat sprawled in a chair, smoking a pipe. He was reading a newspaper, squinting painfully as he did so. He obviously had not had his broken glasses mended yet. On a chair beside him was his wooden leg. He had unstrapped it, and there it lay.
    'He's not expecting the spook-train tonight, or he wouldn't have taken off his wooden leg,' whispered Dick.
    The candlelight flickered and shadows jumped about the tiny hut. It was a poor, il -
    furnished little place, dirty and untidy. A cup without saucer or handle stood on the table, and a tin kettle