'He's not got his forged pa.s.s,' Ginger reminded him. 'He can't get in without his forged pa.s.s.'

'He'll get in somehow,' said William. 'They're jolly clever, are parachutists. They train 'em special to be clever. He'll probably pretend to be a WA.F.S.'s mother or somethin'.'

'Let's have a good look for him first,' said Ginger, 'case he's hidin' somewhere round. Keep the stick ready case he jumps out at us.'

But an exhaustive search of the lane with its bordering fields and hedges failed to produce any trace of the missing parachutist.

'I bet no one'll believe we found him,' said Ginger dejectedly.

'Course they will,' said William. 'We've got his forged pa.s.s, haven't we?'

'Well, I bet he's waitin' somewhere round to spring out on us an' get his pa.s.s back,' said Ginger. 'Tell you what. I think we oughter take his pa.s.s to the police station 'stead of hangin' about with it like this. It's all the proof we've got now he's gone.'

'All right,' said William. 'You take it along to the police station, an' I'll stay here till Douglas and Henry come. They oughter be here any minute.'

Ginger vanished into the dusk in the direction of the village and William continued a desultory search of the hedges.

Suddenly voices warned him of the approach of Douglas and Henry, and Major Winton. Major Winton, roused from a comfortable doze in his favourite armchair, had listened to their story, first with bewilderment then with incredulity. Finally, so convinced and convincing were the two Outlaws, he had begun to think that there might be something in it. After all, such things had happened in other countries and, impossible as it still seemed, might happen in this.

He stood in the roadway and looked about him bewildered and still slightly fretful, as a man has a right to be who has been recently roused from a fireside doze. He was tall and thin, had long drooping moustaches and bore a striking resemblance to the White Knight in Alice Through the Looking Gla.s.s.

He stood in the road and looked about him.

'Well, where is he, where is he?' he said irritably, 'and what's all this frightful mess?'

'He's gone,' said William, 'and that's our fort.'

Major Winton looked at him suspiciously.

'If you boys have been playing a trick on me,' he began.

'Honest, we haven't,' William a.s.sured him. 'He was a parachutist dressed up as a woman and he'd got a forged pa.s.s into Marleigh Aerodrome.'

'Well, where is he?' said the major testily, 'and where's the pa.s.s?'

'We don't know about him,' said William. 'He got away. But we've got his pa.s.s all right. Ginger's jus' taken it to the p'lice station.'

At that moment a policeman appeared. He was a large, stout, official-looking policeman.

'Now then!' he said. 'What's all this 'ere?'

The major hailed his appearance with relief.

'These boys say they found a parachutist with a pa.s.s into Marleigh Aerodrome,' he said.

'Good!' said the policeman. 'He's the man we've been looking for, then. Someone's just rung up the station to say that he was attacked and his pa.s.s stolen from him.'

'Who attacked him?' asked Major Winton with interest.

'He doesn't know. He was knocked out at once, and when he recovered found that the pa.s.s was gone. Presumably it was the parachutist these kids say they found.' He turned to William. 'How d'you know he was a parachutist?'

'He was dressed like a woman,' explained William.

'Which way did he go?'

'I dunno,' said William. 'He ran away while we were getting a stick.'

'Where's the pa.s.s?'

'Ginger's got it. He's taking it to the police station.'

The policeman a.s.sumed an air of official dignity.

'THAT'S HIM!' CRIED WILLIAM EXCITEDLY.

'I'll go and ask the Home Guard men if they've seen any suspicious-looking characters on the road,' he said. 'You kids stay here. We may want you again.'

And at that moment the parachutist suddenly arrived holding Ginger by the neck. He strode along, his rusty skirts billowing about his stout boots. His face looked set and stern. In his free hand he carried his bonnet and wig.

'That's him!' cried William excitedly. 'Catch him quick before he gets away.'

'CATCH HIM QUICK BEFORE HE GETS AWAY!'

'I've got the wretch,' the parachutist was saying to the policeman. 'It was this little villain who pinched my pa.s.s, though how he managed to knock me out beats me.'

The policeman blinked and stared and finally, forgetting his official dignity, murmured 'Blimey!'

Then to be on the safe side he put one hand on the parachutist's shoulder and the other on Ginger's.

'Here!' said the parachutist indignantly, as he shook it off. 'I've got to be at the aerodrome by seven-thirty. I've given this boy into custody and I can't waste any more time.'

'I like that,' burst out William indignantly. 'It's us givin' you into custody. You're the parachutist with a forged pa.s.s dressed up as a woman an' we've caught you.'

'The what?' said the man.

'If you aren't a parachutist,' said William triumphantly, 'why are you dressed up as a woman with a forged pa.s.s?'

'Now then, now then, now then!' said the policeman, taking out his note-book. 'Let's get this straight . . .'

'I'm dressed up as a woman,' said the parachutist to William, 'because I'm going to give a performance at Marleigh Aerodrome and I have to be back at the Grand Theatre, Hadley in time for the eight-thirty performance there, so I've no time to change afterwards. I'd no time to change before because I've been rehearsing at the Grand Theatre, Hadley, up to about half an hour ago. I thought I might risk driving there and back in costume but unfortunately my car broke down on the way, and I was taking a short cut down the lane to the garage on the main road to get help. And my pa.s.s is not forged. It was issued to me by the commanding officer of the camp in my capacity of guest artist at the variety show they're giving there this evening. They put my "turn" early so that I could get back in time for my "turn" at Hadley but I'm going to be late I'm afraid. Anything else you'd like to know?'

'Then you aren't a German parachutist dressed up as a woman?' said William.

'Certainly not,' said the parachutist indignantly. 'Whatever made you think I was?'

'Corks!' said William, with a deep sigh. 'We never have any luck.'

'You an' your parachutists!' said the policeman shutting his note-book with a snap. 'An' a nice mess you've made of the road,' he added severely.

'That was our fort,' said Ginger mournfully.

'Well, I can't waste any more time here,' said Major Winton. 'Goodnight, sir,' to the parachutist.

'Goodnight, constable. And I hope that you boys won't make nuisances of yourselves like this again.'

He went home to finish his nap, feeling half relieved and half disappointed that the affair had petered out so tamely.

'I'll be goin', too,' said the policeman. 'Can't hang about here all night. Thank you, sir,' as the parachutist slipped something into his hand. 'Glad that it's all been settled satisfactorily. And, you kids,' to the Outlaws, 'be a bit more careful next time or you'll be getting into trouble.'

He went off, leaving parachutist and Outlaws alone.

'Well, we thought you were one,' said William in a small voice.

The parachutist looked down at the four dejected faces.

'I say,' he said suddenly, 'how would you like to come to the aerodrome with me and see the show?'

The four dejected faces beamed, sparkled, radiated.

'Oh!' gasped William. 'Could we?'

'I think so,' said the parachutist. 'I think I can manage it. There's the question of your parents, of course . . . Suppose you come with me to the garage now and I'll ring them up from there and ask permission . . .'

The Outlaws sat in a crowded hall surrounded by a G.o.d-like company of men in Air Force blue men who sailed the skies and brought down German bombers as regularly and unconcernedly as you and I have marmalade for breakfast.

That in itself would have provided one of the greatest thrills of the Outlaws' lives. But, added to this, the G.o.dlike beings were jovial and friendly. They teased Ginger about the colour of his hair. They called William Old Bill. They gave them humbugs and pear drops.

The parachutist was beginning his repertoire of comic songs from the stage, a repertoire abounding in the immemorial jokes of the music hall.

As a comedian the parachutist had a way with him.

The audience rocked and roared helplessly.

The Outlaws rocked and roared with the best.

William choked till the tears ran down his face.

Ginger's yell of laughter at each fresh sally was like a gun explosion.

Douglas waved and stamped to swell the applause.

Henry was so purple in the face that, had anyone noticed him (which no one did), they would have diagnosed the last stages of an apoplectic fit.

It was the happiest day of their lives.

CHAPTER 5.

WILLIAM THE SALVAGE COLLECTOR

'COME on, William,' called Mrs Brown. 'The siren!' William stumbled sleepily out of bed, hunched into his dressing-gown, put on his bedroom slippers, collected various bits of cardboard that he was using for his 'invention' of an entirely new type of aeroplane, and made his way to the air-raid shelter at the bottom of the garden. Already a.s.sembled were Ethel, wearing a siren suit of pale grey corduroy, Emma the housemaid, in a red flannel dressing-gown, her hair in curling papers, her face grim and set, her teeth clasped firmly on an enormous cork, and Mr Brown, looking sleepy and dishevelled but preparing to re-read his evening paper, with an air of philosophical detachment.

Robert was on night duty at the warden's post, and Cook had joined the A.T.S. last week.

Ethel groaned as William entered.

'Oh gos.h.!.+' she said. 'I hoped he'd have slept through it.'

'Of course not,' said Mrs Brown placidly. 'I shouldn't dream of letting him sleep through it. Now, make room for him, dear, and don't be disagreeable.'

'Can't I have the hammock?' pleaded William.

Originally a hammock had been slung up for William's use, but the acrobatics in which he had indulged had precipitated him so frequently upon the heads of his family below that, much to his disgust, it had been taken down.

'No, dear,' said Mrs Brown. 'You only fidget and fall on people.'

'What can I do, then?' demanded William.

'Go to sleep,' said Mrs Brown. 'It's long past your bedtime.'

'Sleep?' echoed William in disgust. 'I jolly well wouldn't waste an air raid sleepin' in it.'

'Well, you must be quiet.'

'All right,' said William. 'I'll go on with my aeroplane. I bet it'll make 'em all sit up when I've finished it. It's a troop-carryin' aeroplane, an' it's goin' to go six hundred miles an hour an' it's goin' to be camouflaged so's to look like a cloud in the sky an' like a barn when it comes down so's the troops can hide in it.'

He stopped and listened for a few moments. 'That's a Dornier,' he p.r.o.nounced with an air of finality.

'On the contrary, it's a cow,' said Mr Brown, without looking up from his paper.

'Oh, yes, so it is,' agreed William as he recognised the note. 'It's Farmer Smith's Daisy. She's been carryin' on like that all day.'

Mrs Brown was checking her equipment of spirit kettle, biscuit tins, tea, coffee, milk, fruit and chocolate. She delighted in feeding her family during an air raid, but usually only William appreciated her efforts.

'Anyone like anything to eat or drink?' she asked hopefully.