"Well," said Inspector Jenks, "suppose you replace all these various dues in their envelopes. I hardly feel they are going to help us a great deal, but perhaps you mink otherwise, Goon?"
"No, sir," said poor Goon, his face purple with rage, astonishment, and shock. To think that his wonderful dues were the same as the children's — whatever did it mean? Poor Goon! The meaning did eventually dawn on him, but not until he was in bed that night. Then he could do nothing about it; for he knew he would never dare to reopen the matter of his dues again, with Inspector Jenks on the children's side.
"And now, Goon," said the Inspector, in a businesslike tone, "I propose that we go to this boy Luke and tell him to come out of his hiding-place and face up to things. We can't have him hiding away for weeks."
Mr. Goon's mouth fell open for the third or fourth time that afternoon. Find Luke? Go to his hiding-place? What in the world did the Inspector know about all that? He gave the children a glare. Interfering busybodies! Now, with the Inspector at his elbow he wouldn't even be able to scare the life out of that boy Luke when he found him, as he would dearly like to do.
"Just as you say, sir," he said to the Inspector, and rose ponderously from the ground.
"Come along," said Inspector Jenks to the children. "We'll go and have a word — a kind word — with poor old hunted Luke."
A Great Surprise.
The Inspector led the way over the field and up the lane. Fatty tried to hold a cheerful conversation with Mr. Goon, but the policeman only scowled at him behind Inspector Jenks' broad back.
"In here," said Pip, when they reached his gate. They went up the drive and into the garden. Then Pip stopped and looked at the Inspector.
"Should I just go up and explain to Luke that you say he's to come out and go back to his job?" he said. "You can't think how scared he is."