"I think not!" "What do you mean ?" said West, turning sharply upon his companion.

"You have some fresh idea ?" "Well, yes.

Being in such a pickle as this sets a man sharpening his wits to try and make them keen." "Of course.

What are you going to do ?" "Wait a bit and see!" replied Ingleborough coolly.

"I'm sharpening still." West turned away impatiently, to go, stooping as low as he could, towards his pony, which was straggling away, and bring it back to the bushes which had helped to hide them all the day, after which they sat in silence for about an hour, until it was quite plain that the night was as dark as it was likely to be.