"Bets! Was Fatty all right? He wasn't really hurt, was he?"
"No. He's got some lovely bruises though," said Bets. "The best I've ever seen. I guess he'll boast about them till we're sick of hearing about bruises. Didn't he make a thump when he fell? Did you and Larry find the tramp? What happened?"
"Well, he's not the person who hid in the ditch, nor the one whose coat got caught on the brambles," said Pip. "We saw both his shoes and his coat. He heard all the quarrels that went on. Larry and I thought we'd ask him a few questions tomorrow, when he comes to get the boots. I believe he could tell us quite a few things if he was certain we wouldn't put the police after him. He may even have spotted who was hiding in the ditch!"
"Oooh!" said Bets, thrilled. "Oh, Pip, wasn't it funny when the tramp woke and saw Larry kneeling in front of him - and after that, old Clear-Orf doing the same thing!"
"Yes, it was funny," said Pip, grinning. "Hallo, there's Fatty and Buster."
Fatty limped into the garden, walking extremely stiffly. He had tried to make up his mind whether to act very heroically, and pooh-pooh His fall, but limp to make the others sorry for him, or whether to make out that he had hurt himself inside very badly and frighten them.
At the moment he was behaving heroically. He smiled at Bets and Pip and sat down very gingerly.
"Do you hurt much?" asked Bets sympathetically.
"Oh, I'm all right," said Fatty, in a very, very brave
voice. "A fall off a rick isn't much! Don't you worry about me!"