"I didn't throw him down the stairs," said Mr. Smellie, going up to let Larry out of the box-room. Very soon Larry was down in the hall with Fatty, and Mr. Smellie took them both into his study. Miss Miggle came in with some stuff to put on Fatty's bruises. Larry looked most astonished but didn't say a word.
"Dear, dear, I never in my life saw such dreadful braises on any child!" said Miss Miggle, dabbing each, bruise with the stuff from her bottle.
"I'm a wonderful bruiser," began Fatty. "I once had a bruise shaped exactly like a church-bell."
"What were you two boys doing in my house tonight?" said Mr. Smellie sharply. He didn't want to hear any history of bruises. Larry and Fatty were silent. They really didn't know what to say.
"You'll have to tell him that," said Miss Miggle. "You 98
didn't come in here for any good purpose, I'll be bound. Now be good boys and own up."
Still the boys were silent. Mr. Smellie suddenly lost his temper. "Unless you tell me what you came here for I will hand you over to the police!" he said.
"Well, I don't know what they'll say when they see all my bruises," said Fatty.
"I've an idea those bruises were made before tonight!" said Mr. Smellie, getting sharper and sharper. "I know what yellow means in a braise, if Miss Miggle doesn't!"
The boys said nothing. "Name and addresses?" barked Mr. Smellie, getting out a pen. "I'll see your parents as well as the police."