Pip’s mother asked Fatty how he was after his fall. Fatty was delighted, because the others had quite forgotten to ask about his bruises again.
“Thank you, I’m all right,” he said, “but my bruises
are rather extraordinary. I’ve got one the shape of a dog’s head – rather like Buster’s head, really.”
“Really?” said Pip’s mother,, astonished. “Do let me
seek!”
Fatty spent a wonderful five minutes showing all his braises, one after another, especially the one shaped like a dog’s head. It was difficult to see how he made out that it was shaped like one, but Pip’s mother seemed most interested. The children scowled. How annoying grown-ups were! Here they had been trying to stop Fatty from continually showing off and boasting, and now Pip’s mother was making him ten times worse.
In a few minutes Fatty was telling her all about the braise he had had once that was shaped like a church-bell, and the other that looked like a snake.
“I’m a really marvellous bruiser,” he said. “I shall be a wonderful sight tomorrow when I’m in the yellow stage.”
“Come on,” whispered Larry to Pip. “I can’t stick this. This is Fatty at His worst.”
Leaving Fatty talking eagerly to Pip’s mother, the four children crept off. Buster stayed with Fatty, wagging his tail. He really seemed as much interested in his young master’s bruises as the grown-up!
“Let’s go for a bike-ride and leave old Fatty to hihiself,” said Pip, in disgust. “I can’t bear him when he gets like this.”
So the four of them went for a bike-ride and Fatty was surprised and hurt to find that he was all alone in the garden, when Pip’s mother left him. He couldn’t think why the others had gone, and he spent a miserable hour by hihiself, thinking how unkind they were.
When they came back, he greeted them with a volley of complaints.
“You are mean! Why did you go off like that? Is that the way to behave. Pip, when people come to tea with you? You’re horrid!”
“Well, we thought you’d probably be about an hour boasting to Pip’s mother,” said Larry. “Don’t look so fierce, Fatty. You shouldn’t be such an idiot!”
“Going off like that finding clues and things without me,” said Fatty angrily. “Aren’t I a Find-Outer too? What have you been doing? Seeing Horace Peeks – or Lily again? You are mean!”
“We didn’t see any one,” said Bets3 feeling sorry for Fatty. She had so often been left out of things because she was younger than the others, and she knew how horrid it was to feel left-out. “We only went for a bike-ride.”
But Fatty was really offended and hurt. “I don’t think I want to belong to the Find-Outers any more,” he said. “I’ll take my drawing of the footprints and go. I can see you don’t want me. Come on, Buster.”
Nobody wanted Buster to leave the Find-Outers – and they didn’t really want Fatty to, either. He wasn’t so bad once you got used to him.
Daisy went after him. “Come back, silly,” she said. “We do want you. We want to discuss what to do tonight about Mr. Smellie’s shoes. You come and say what we ought to do, too. I want to go into Mr. Smellie’s house and keep guard for Larry, whilst he is hunting for the shoes we think Mr. Smellie has hidden. But he won’t let me.”
Fatty went back to the others, still looking rather sulky.
“Larry, I do wish you’d let me creep into Mr. Smellie’s house with you,” said Daisy. “Fatty, don’t you think I really ought to keep guard for him?”
“No, I don’t,” said Fatty. “I think a boy ought to go with Larry. I’ll go, Larry. You shall do the hunting and I’ll watch out that nobody discovers you.”
“No, I’ll go,” said Pip, at once.
“You wouldn’t be able to slip out without being seen,” said Larry. “Fatty could. His parents don’t seem to bother about him much. All right, Fatty – you come and help me then. I thought I’d wait till about half-past nine, and then scout about and see if old Smellie is still in His study. It’s no use trying anything till he’s gone to bed. He may be one of these people that stays up until about three o’clock in the morning,, of course. We’ll have to see.”
“Well, I’ll be along about half-past nine,” said Fatty. “Where’s the shoe? In the summer-house? I’ll bring it
with me, in case your mother wants to know where you got it from. It’ll be dark then and no one will see what I’m carrying.”
Fatty cheered up very much when he found that there was something really exciting he could join in. He forgot His sulks, and discussed where to meet Larry.
“I shall climb over the wall at the bottom of the garden,” said Larry, “But you. Fatty, had better go up the road in front of Mr. Smelie’s house, and go into the drive there, and round to the back that way. Meet me somewhere at the back of the house. See ?”
“Right,” said Fatty. “I’ll hoot like an owl to tell you when I’m there.”
“Can you hoot?” said Bets, in surprise.
“Yes, listen,” said Fatty. He put His two thumbs side by side, frontways, and cupped his hands together. He blew carefully between his thumbs, and at once a mournful quavering hoot, just like an owl’s, came from His closed hands. It was marvellous.
“Oh, you are clever, Fatty!” said Bets, in great admiration. Fatty blew again, and an owl’s hoot sounded over the garden. He really was very good at it.
“Simply wonderful!” said Bets. Fatty opened His mouth to say that he could make much better bird and animal noises than that, but caught a look in Larry’s eye that warned him in time to say nothing. He shut His mouth again hurriedly.
“Well,” said Larry, that’s settled then. You meet me at half-past nine behind Mr. Smellie’s house, and hoot like an owl to tell me you’re there. I shall probably be Md-ing in the bushes somewhere, waiting for you.”
The children all felt excited as they went to bed that night. At least, Fatty didn’t go to bed, though Larry did. But then Larry’s mother usually came to tuck Mm up and say good night, and Fatty’s didn’t. So Fatty felt quite safe as he sat, fully-dressed, in His bedroom, reading a book to make the time pass.
At ten past nine he switched off His light and put His nose outside His bedroom door. There was no one about
He slipped along the passage and down the stairs. Out of the garden door he went, and into the hotel garden. In half a minute he was in the lane, and running up it with the shoe tucked under his coat.
At just before half-past nine he came to Mr. Smellie’s house, and stopped outside the front gate. The house was quite dark. Fatty walked up and down outside for a moment or two to make quite certain that there was no one about.
He didn’t see some one standing quite still by one of the big trees that lined the road. He walked down in front of the house once more, making up his mind to go into the drive – and then quite suddenly he felt a strong hand on his shoulder!
Poor Fatty almost jumped out of his skin. “Oooh!” he said, frightened, and the shoe dropped from beneath his coat!
“Ho!” said a voice that Fatty knew only too well. “Ho!” A torch was flashed into his face, and the voice said “Ho!” again, this time more loudly.
It was Clear-Orf s voice. He had been standing quietly beside the tree, and had been astonished to see Fatty come up the lane, and walk softly up and down in front of the house. Now he was even more astonished to find that it was “one of them children!” He bent down and picked up the shoe. He stared at it in the greatest astonishment.
“What’s this?” he said.
“It looks like a shoe,” said Fatty. “Let me go! You’ve no right to clutch me like that.”
“What are you doing with this shoe?” asked Clear-Orf, in an astonished voice. “Where’s the other?”
“I don’t exactly know,” said Fatty truthfully. The policeman shook him angrily.
“None of your cheek,” he said. He turned the shoe upside down and saw the rubber-sole. At once the same thought flashed across his mind as had flashed across Daisy’s when she had first seen it – the markings were like those on the footprint!
Mr. Goon stared at the shoe in amazement He flashed
his torch at Fatty again. “Where did you get this?”
he asked. “Whose is it?”
Fatty looked obstinate. “Some one found it and gave it to me,” he said at last.