After a minute or two the other man got up and went to his bicycle. He got on it, hooted, and rode slowly over to the sweet-shop. The four children in there stiffened with excitement. What was he coming over there for?
Bets gave a gasp as he came in, and Pip kicked her under the table, afraid she might give them away. Bets took one look at the man and then began to finish her ice, making rather a noise with her spoon.
"Box of matches, please," said the man, and put a penny down on the counter. Nobody liked to look at him in case he became suspicious of them.
He went out, lighting a cigarette. "He's got odd eyes!" said Bets. "He's the one! Hooter on his bike—and odd eyes! Oooh—it's getting exciting."
Fatty, waiting by the tree outside, saw the man go in and out of the shop. The boy folded up his paper quickly, and mounted his bike as the man went swiftly by him. He followed him at a discreet distance, wondering if he had had any message, and if he was going to lead him to the pearls!
"Come on," said Larry, going out of the shop quickly. "We've got to follow too."
The man rode down to the Fair. He wandered round a bit and then went to the Hall of Waxworks. But he only just put his head inside, and came out.
Fatty popped his head inside too, but except that it was full of people looking at the waxworks, there was nothing different to see. Napoleon was dressed and back in his place, and the red-haired boy was relating an extraordinary tale of how, in the night, Napoleon had apparently got out of his place, undressed and put himself to bed in a cupboard.
"Story-teller!" said some listening children. "What a fib!"
"And what's more," said the red-headed boy, thoroughly enjoying himself, "that wax policeman over there—do you see him? Well, he got up in the night and went and stood himself behind that curtain. Such goings-on!"