"He's the same old Fatty," said Pip with a grin. "Top of this, that, and the other — full of brains as usual — best boy in the school!"
"Shut up," said Fatty, giving Pip a friendly punch. "I suppose you were bottom of your form!"
It was lovely to lie on the grass, play with Buster, and think of the eight or nine long sunny weeks ahead. No lessons. No rules. No being kept in or writing out lines. The summer holidays were really the nicest of all.
"Any news, Bets?" asked Fatty. "Any mysteries turned up? Any problems to solve? We're still the Five Find-Outers and Dog, don't forget!"
"I know," said Bets happily. "But there isn't any mystery at present, Fatty. I haven't even seen old Clear-Orf for weeks."
Clear-Orf was the burly village Policeman, Mr. Goon. The children always called him Clear-Orf, because that was what he said whenever he saw them. He didn't like children, and they didn't like him.
"Bets just hasn't any news at all," said Pip. "Nothing at all seems to have happened in Peterswood since we left to go to school."
Bets suddenly remembered something. "Oh, I've just remembered," she said. "Somebody has come to live next door."
The house next door had been empty for a year or two. The other children looked at Bets. "Any children there?" asked Pip.
"No," said Bets. "At least, I don't think so. I've seen a big boy there, but I think he works in the garden. I hear him whistling sometimes. He whistles awfully nicely. Oh, and there are lots of cats there — very funny cats."