Using as cover a drift of bracken, he wormed his way down till he was not six yards from Dobson, and Heritage had the privilege of seeing his grinning countenance a very little way above the innkeeper's head.

Then he crawled back and reached the neighbourhood of Leon, who was sitting on a fallen Scotch fir.

At that moment it occurred to the Belgian to visit Dobson.

Heritage's breath stopped, but Dougal was ready, and froze into a motionless blur in the shadow of a hazel bush.
Then he crawled very fast into the hollow where Leon had been sitting, seized something which looked like a bottle, and scrambled back to the ridge.

At the top he waved the object, whatever it was, but Heritage could not reply, for Dobson happened to be looking towards the window.
That was the last he saw of the Chieftain, but presently he realized what was the booty he had annexed.