He climbed till the tree-top swayed with his weight, then descended,
hot and triumphant. The tree was covered with green lichen, a great
part of which had deposited itself upon William's suit. His efforts
also had twisted his collar round till its stud was beneath his ear.
His heated countenance beamed with pride.

For a moment Cuthbert was nonplussed. Then he said scornfully:

"Don't he look a _fright_, Joan?" Joan giggled.

But William was wholly engrossed in his self-imposed task of "showing
them." He led them to the bottom of the garden, where a small stream
(now almost dry) disappeared into a narrow tunnel to flow under the
road and reappear in the field at the other side.

"You can't crawl through that," challenged William, "you can't _do_
it. I've _done_ it, done it often. I bet _you_ can't. I bet you can't
get halfway. I----"

"Well, _do_ it, then!" jeered Cuthbert.

William, on all fours, disappeared into the mud and slime of the small
round aperture. Joan clasped her hands, and even Cuthbert was secretly
impressed. They stood in silence. At intervals William's muffled voice
came from the tunnel.

"It's jolly muddy, too, I can _tell_ you."

"I've caught a frog! I say, I've caught a frog!"