The Tramp turns up Again.
It was seven o'clock when the three of them rode up Pip's drive. Bets was getting worried, because her bedtime was coming very near, and she couldn't bear to think that she would have to go before she heard the news that Larry, Daisy and Pip might be bringing.
She jumped for joy when she heard their bicycle bells jangling as they rode at top speed up the drive. It was such a lovely evening that she, Fatty and Buster were still in the garden. Fatty had examined his bruises again, and was pleased to see that they were now a marvellous red-purple. Although they hurt him he couldn't help being very proud of them.
"What news? What news?" yelled Bets, as the three travellers returned.
"Plenty!" cried Larry. "Half a tick - let's put our bikes away!"
Soon all five and Buster were sitting in the summer-house talking. Fatty's eyes nearly dropped out of his head when he heard how Larry had dragged the letter out of His pocket and dropped it by accident at Horace Peeks's feet.
"But Clear-Orf's on the trail all right," said Pip. "We met him as we were going home. Larry knocked him off his bike, going round the corner. Clear-Orf must be brighter than we think. He's a little way behind us, that's all!"
"Well, we'd better get on Mr. Smellie's track as soon as possible tomorrow," said Fatty. "Bets and I have got his address."
"Good for you," said Larry. "Where does he live?"
"It was in the telephone book," said Bets. "It was very easy to find because there was only one Mr. Smellie. He lives at Willow-Dene, Jeffreys Lane."