A moment before, the eyes had been looking over the
top at the advancing trio, watching their movements narrowly.
The children did not answer either. They separated. They scouted. They
executed a flank attack in open order. Three minutes later Colonel
Stumper was surrounded. And no word was spoken; the scouts just
perched and watched him. He was not actually reading, for he had not
turned a page for about ten minutes, and it was _not_ a picture book.
The difficulty was, however, to get him started. If only Mother would
help them! Then Mother, unwittingly, did so. For she dropped her ball
of wool, and finding no one at hand to recover it, she looked vaguely
round the room--and saw them. And she shook her head at them.
"Don't bother him just now," she whispered again, "he's got a cold.
Here, Maria, pick up my wool, darling, will you?" But while Tim (for
Maria only moved her eyes) picked up the wool obediently, Cousin
William picked up himself with difficulty, tossed his book into the
deep arm-chair, and stalked without a single word towards the door.
Mother watched him with one eye, but the children did not stir a
muscle.
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