"Oh, good!" said Bets happily. "I like Fatty. He's kind to me. We shall really be the Five Find-Outers again then; and oh, Pip! I suppose Buster is coming, isn't he?"
"Of course," said Pip. Buster was Fatty's little black Scottie dog, loved by all the children. "It will be nice to see old Buster again."
"How do you know about Fatty coming?" asked Bets, still trotting round after Pip.
"He wrote to me," said Pip. "Wait a minute — I've got the letter here. He sent a message to you in it."
The boy felt in his pockets and took out a crumpled letter. Bets took it from him eagerly. It was very short, written in extremely neat handwriting.
"DEAR PIP, — Just to say my parents have bought White House, not far from you, so I'll be seeing you in the summer hols. Hope we have another mystery to solve. It would be fun to be the Five Find-Outers and Dog again. Give my love to little Bets. I'll pop down and see you as soon as I get back. — Yours,
FREDERICK ALGERNON TROTTEVILLE."
"Why doesn't he sign himself Fatty?" asked Bets. "I think Frederick Algernon Trotteville sounds so silly."
"Well, Fatty is silly sometimes," said Pip. "I hope he won't come back full of himself. Do you remember how he kept boasting about his marvellous bruises last hols, when he fell off that hayrick?"
"Well, they were most awfully good bruises," said Bets, remembering. "They did turn a wonderful colour. I wish my bruises went like that."