"Good-bye. And don't poke and pry again into matters that don't concern children," said Mr. Hick stiffly. "It was probably Horace Peeks that fired my workroom. The police will soon make out a case against him. He wore rubber-soled shoes this morning when he came to see me, and there is no doubt that he made those prints up and down the drive."
"Oh," said the children, feeling very sorry for poor Lily. She would be terribly upset they knew. Only Fatty said nothing, but looked hard at Mr. Hick again, a curious expression on his face. They all went out - but the Tempests were now gone again, leaving a faint throbbing behind them.
"Well, that's done," said Larry, with relief. "How I hated apologizing to that mean fellow! I suppose Peeks did do it, after all - fire the cottage, I mean."
Fatty was very silent as they all walked down the lane towards the river. They meant to go for a short walk before supper-time. Bets looked at Fatty.
"What's the matter?" she asked. "Are your braises hurting you?"
"No. I'd forgotten all about them," said Fatty. "I was thinking of something very, very, very queer!"
"What was it?" asked the others, interested. Fatty stopped and pointed up into the sky. "You know those planes we saw?" he said. The others nodded.
"Well," said Fatty, "they were Tempests, and they have only been over here twice - once today - and once on the
evening of the day that the cottage was fired!"
"Well - what about it?" said Larry impatiently. "Nothing queer about that, surely!"