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"I should," said Mercer innocently. "What!" roared the old gentleman. "Here, you two, take 'em both into scholastic custody, and tell Dr Browne I'm coming in the morning to put a stop to this sort of thing once and for all. Hopley, where's that ferret?" "Pocket, Sir Hawkus," said the keeper bluntly. "`In my pocket, sir!" cried the old gentleman angrily.
"Nay, here's Sir Hawkus coming; and here's some one else too," he continued, as I saw two figures come trotting up by the way we had reached the slope, to get to us nearly as soon as the tall, stern-looking gentleman. "Who are these?" he cried. "Boys from the Doctor's school? You young dogs, you!" he shouted, shaking his cane. "Who are you?"
He means a parrot he's seen in its cage." "Nay, I don't," said the man. "I mean a big woodpecker down in Squire Hawkus Rye's woods." "Oh, Magg: get it for me!" "Nay, I dunno as I can. Old Hopley's on the look-out for me, and if I was to shoot that there bird, he'd swear it was a fezzan." "Perhaps it is," said Mercer, laughing. "Nay, not it, my lad," said the man, with a sly-looking smile.
He dropped on his knees, rolled down the slope a few yards, sprang up, and dashed off. "Don't matter, Sir Hawkus!" shouted the keeper. "I know my gentleman, and can send him a summons. Now, young gents, you've got in for it this time. Bad company's done for you." "Oh, Bob," whispered Mercer, "let us go this time! let's run."
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