I'll pay if anything happens to the horses, never fear." "_That's_ all right," said Cossar, who rarely promised.
They left the waggonette behind, and the men who were not driving went afoot.

Over each shoulder sloped a gun.

It was the oddest little expedition for an English country road, more like a Yankee party, trekking west in the good old Indian days.
They went up the road, until at the crest by the stile they came into sight of the Experimental Farm.

They found a little group of men there with a gun or so--the two Fulchers were among them--and one man, a stranger from Maidstone, stood out before the others and watched the place through an opera-glass.
These men turned about and stared at Redwood's party.
"Anything fresh ?" said Cossar.
"The waspses keeps a comin' and a goin'," said old Fulcher.

"Can't see as they bring anything." "The canary creeper's got in among the pine trees now," said the man with the lorgnette.