Mr. Tupping had gone into the cat-house, and was looking all round it again very, very carefully.
"Just looking to see if there's any clue we've overlooked," he said. But he couldn't seem to find anything else, however hard he hunted. He came out again, looking rather untidy and cross.
"Well, there don't seem much else to be found," he said, sounding very disappointed. "I'm sure you'll find it's that boy Luke, Mr. Goon, that's the thief. These clues can't be clues — just things that got into the cage by accident."
"Well, a peppermint drop seems a funny sort of thing to get into the cage by accident," said Mr. Goon grumpily. "I'll have to take all these things home and think about them."
Fatty chuckled deep down in himself as he watched Mr. Goon put his "clues" into a clean white envelope, lick it up, write something on it, and put it carefully into his pocket. He turned to Mr. Tupping.
"Well, so long!" he said. "Thanks for your help. It's that boy Luke, no doubt about it. I've told him I'll go along and give him a thorough questioning tomorrow, and if I don't force a confession out of him, my name's not Theophilus Goon!"
And with that mouthful of a name old Clear-Orf departed majestically down the path, his "clues" safely in his pocket, his mind puzzling them over.
Fatty longed to get down the tree, go home, and have some supper. He suddenly felt tremendously hungry. He peered down to see if Mr. Tupping had gone. But he hadn't
He was in the cat-house again, hunting about very carefully. After a while he came out, looking thoughtful, locked the house, and went off up the path still looking thoughtful. Fatty waited till his footsteps had died away, then slithered down the tree.
"Well, we'll see old Luke tomorrow and ask him no end of questions," thought Fatty as he went home. "My word — this has been an exciting day!"