Bunter the Caravanner - Friardale

Snap!
It was a faint sound, but it rang sharply in the silence - the
parting of a strand of wire. Billy Bunter came to a dead stop,
blinking at the crouching figure at the fence. The man was
wielding a pair of wire-cutters, evidently to make his way into
the preserve on the inner side. Billy Bunter's little round eyes
almost bulged through his big round spectacles as he stared at
him. Bunter's fat brain was not quick on the uptake, but even
Bunter could guess that this man was a poacher, and it dawned
upon him, further, that Mr. Churt and Barber were keepers,
patrolling the fence on the watch for midnight poachers with
wire-cutters.
He stood rooted, his eyes bulging at the poacher. The latter
seemed to have heard some sound, for he stared round suddenly
from the fence, dropping the wire-cutters in his alarm. The next
moment he was running, vanishing in an instant into the darkness
of the wood.
'Oh!' gasped Bunter.
There was a loud shout, close at hand.
'Look out! Stop him!'
Evidently, Mr. Churt and Barber were not far away.
A tall figure came dashing into the patch of moonlight. Billy
Bunter made a jump to bolt. But he jumped too late.
A brawny hand clutched at a fat shoulder. The man in gaiters had
him!
'Ow! Leggo!' yelled Bunter, frantically.
The keeper did not heed that yell. His grasp closed on the fat
shoulder like a vice. At the same moment he shouted.
'After him, Barber! I've got one of them! Get after - the
other.'
A shout came back, and sounds of tramping feet, dying away in
the wood. Barber, apparently, was in hot pursuit of the escaping
poacher. Billy Bunter remained a prisoner in the hands of Mr.
Churt, wriggling in his sinewy grasp like a fat eel.
'Now, then, take it quiet!' snapped Mr. Churt. Hold-the fat Owl
in that vice-like grip, he peered at him in the moonlight.
'You're young for this game, you young rascal - you've started
poaching early, you 'ave.'
'I ain't a poacher!' howled Bunter.
'You ain't!' jeered Mr. Churt. He stooped, and picked up the
wire-cutters with his left hand. 'What are you doing with these
'ere, then?'
'That's not mine - there was a man here—!' gasped Bunter.
'Don't I know there was? And he's got away, but you ain't
getting away, you young rogue. The guvnor will deal with you in
the morning. You're coming along of me now.'
The grip on the fat shoulder propelled Billy Bunter into motion.
'I—I say - Oh, crikey—I—I say, where are you taking me?' gasped
Bunter, as the keeper led him away.
'I'm taking you up to the house,' snapped Mr. Churt. 'You'll be