He took out a magnifying-glass and bent to look closely at the prints. He frowned a little, and then got out his note-book. He opened it at the drawings there. Then he straightened up.
“This is queer,” he said. “I don’t understand it. These prints are the same size—and the rubber-heel pattern is the same—but the print isn’t quite the same. The thief didn’t wear the same boots.”
“Clever old Fatty!” thought Pip. “He even spotted that the prints were made by those big shoes, and not by big boots worn by the real thief. He really is a marvel!”
The five children walked to the trees and sat down. Pip kept his head turned away because he simply couldn’t help grinning all over his face. What a joke! How marvellous to see the others taken in like this—all serious and solemn and earnest!
“It beats me,” said Fatty. “It absolutely beats me. Running all over the bed like that for apparently no reason at all. He must be mad as well as a thief. I mean—what’s the point? Just to show off, I suppose.”
Pip gave a little snort of laughter and tried to turn it into a cough. Bets looked at him in surprise. “What are you grinning for?” she asked. “What’s the joke?”
“No joke,” said Pip, trying to straighten his face. But a moment later his mouth twisted into broad smiles again and he was afraid he was going to laugh out loud.
“At any moment I shall expect to see foot-prints suddenly walking in front of me now,” said Fatty gloomily. “I’ve really got the things on my mind.”
Pip gave a squeal and burst into laughter. He rolled over on the ground. He laughed till he almost burst his sides. The others looked at him in amazement.
“Pip! What’s the joke?” demanded Fatty.
“It’s—er—oh dear—I can’t tell you,” stuttered Pip, and rolled over again.
“He’s gone potty,” said Larry, in disgust. Fatty looked at Pip hard. He poked him with his foot.
“Shut up now, Pip—and tell us what the joke is,” he said. “Go on—you’ve been up to something. What is it?”
“Oh my—it’s those foot-prints,” gasped Pip. “I took you all in beautifully, didn’t I!”
“What do you mean?” cried everyone, and Fatty reached out and shook Pip.
“I made them!” said Pip, helpless with laughter. “I put on those big shoes and made those prints myself!”
Meeting at Half-Past Two
Larry, Daisy and Bets fell on Pip and pummelled him till he cried for mercy. Buster joined in and barked madly. Only Fatty did nothing. He just sat as if he was turned to stone.
The others realized at last that Fatty was not joining in Pip’s punishment. They sat up and looked at him. Pip wiped his streaked, dirty face.
Fatty sat there as if a thunderbolt had struck him. He gazed out through the trees with such a tense concentration that it really impressed the others. They fell silent.
“Fatty! What are you thinking about?” asked Bets timidly at last. He turned and looked at them all.
“It’s Pip’s joke,” he said. “Gosh—to think I never guessed how the thief did it! Pip’s solved the mystery!”
The others gaped in surprise.
“How do you mean?” asked Larry at last.
“Can’t you see even now?” said Fatty impatiently. “What did Pip do to make us think he was a large-footed thief? He took off his small shoes and put on big ones—and simply danced about over that bed in them. But he’s no more got big feet than Bets’ here! Yet we all fell for his trick.”
“I’m beginning to see,” said Pip.
“And we fell for the thief’s trick, which was exactly the same!” said Fatty. He smacked himself hard on the knee. “We’re mutts! We’re too feeble for words! We’ve been looking for a big-footed fellow, and the real thief has been laughing at us all the time—a fellow with small feet—and small hands too!”
“Oh—do you mean he wore big gloves over his hands?” asked Bets. “To make people think he had both big hands and big feet?”
“Of course. He probably wore somebody’s big old gardening gloves,” said Fatty. “And no wonder he left so many clear marks—he meant to! He didn’t want to be careful! The more prints the merrier, as far as he was concerned.”
Light was beginning to dawn very clearly in everyone’s mind now. All that hunting for large-footed, burly, big-handed men! They should have looked for just the opposite.
But who was the thief? They knew now he wasn’t big—but that didn’t tell them the name of the robber.
“I suppose that deep cough was put on too,” said Larry. “What about those scraps of paper, Fatty? Do they really belong to the mystery?”
“I think so,” said Fatty frowning. “I’m beginning to piece things together now. I’m . . . gosh!”
“What?” said everybody together.
“I think I know who it is!” said Fatty, going scarlet with excitement.
“Who?” yelled everyone.
“Well—I won’t say yet in case I’m wrong,” said Fatty. “I’ll have to think a bit more—work things out. But I think I’ve got it! I think so!”
It was most exasperating that Fatty wouldn’t say any more. The others stared at him, trying to read his thoughts.
“If I’m right,” said Fatty, “all our clues, including the scraps of paper, belong to the mystery—yes, even that queer roundish print with the criss-cross marks. And I believe I know how it was that the thief was able to take those big boots about without anyone ever seeing them—and remove the stolen goods too, without anyone ever guessing. Golly, he’s clever.”
“Who is it?” asked Bets, banging Fatty on the shoulder in excitement.
“Look—I want to go and think this out properly,” said Fatty getting up. “It’s important I should be sure of every detail—very important. I’ll tell you for certain this afternoon. Meet here at half-past two.”
And with that Fatty disappeared into the shed with Buster and shut the door! The rest of the company looked at each other in irritation. Blow Fatty! Now they would have to puzzle and wonder for hours!
Fatty opened the door and stuck out his head for one moment. “If I can think of everything, so can you. You know just as much as I do! You use your brains too, and see what you can make of it all!”
“I can’t make anything,” said Pip kicking at the grass. “The only thing I’m pleased about is that my trick set old Fatty on the right track. I think he’s right, don’t you? About the thief wearing boots too big for him?”
“Yes. I think he is,” said Daisy, and everyone agreed. She got up. “Well, come on—Fatty doesn’t want us mooning round if he’s really going to solve everything and have it all cut and dried. My word—I do hope he thinks it all out before Goon does.”
They all thought hard during the hours that followed. Fatty thought the hardest of all. Bit by bit he pieced it all together. Bit by bit things became clear. Of course! All those odd clues did fit together, did make a picture of the thief—and it could only be one thief, nobody else.
Fatty did a spot of telephoning early that afternoon. He telephoned Inspector Jenks and asked him if he could possibly come along at half-past two that afternoon. The Inspector was interested.
“Does this by any chance mean that you have solved the latest mystery—the mystery of the Big-Footed Thief?” he asked.
“I hope so, sir,” said Fatty modestly. “May I ask Mr. Goon to come along too, sir? He’ll be—er—quite interested too.”
The Inspector laughed. “Yes, of course. Right, half-past two, and I’ll be there, at your house.”
Mr. Goon was also invited. He was astonished and not at all pleased. But when he heard that the Inspector was going to be present, there was no help for it but to say yes, he’d be there too. Poor Goon—how he worried and puzzled all the rest of the morning. Did it mean that that fat boy had got ahead of him again?
At half-past two the Inspector arrived. Mrs. Trotteville was out, as Fatty very well knew. Then Mr. Goon arrived. Then the rest of the Find-Outers came, amazed to see Inspector Jenks and Mr. Goon sitting in the little study with Fatty.
“Why this room?” asked Bets. “You never use it for visitors. Is it something to do with the mystery, Fatty?”
“Not really,” said Fatty, who was looking excited and calm all at once. Mr. Goon fidgeted, and the Inspector looked at Fatty with interest. That boy! What wouldn’t he give to have him as a right-hand man when he was grown-up! But that wouldn’t be for years.
“We’re all here,” said Fatty, who had got Buster under his chair so that he wouldn’t caper round Mr. Goon. “So I’ll begin. I may as well say at once that I’ve found out who the thief is.”