Goon made up his mind to follow Number Three at once, and keep him in sight. Visions of pearl necklaces floated in front of his eyes. Number Three knew where those pearls were, Goon was sure of it. Off he went after Number Three.
And behind him went Fatty, annoyed and angry. Was Goon going to get in first again! Goon heard some one behind him and turned. He scowled.
That fat boy again! Was he after Number Three too. "Gah!" said Goon to himself. "The interfering Toad!"
A Nice Long Ride.
And now, of course, Mr. Goon spoilt simply everything! Number Three couldn't possibly help guessing that he was being shadowed by the fat, panting policeman! For one thing, Goon didn't keep a fair distance away, but pedalled closely to Number Three's bicycle—so close to it that if Number Three had to brake suddenly, his "shadow" would almost certainly bump into him!
Fatty cycled on, some way behind the other two, thinking hard. It was too bad of Old Clear-Orf to butt in like this, just as the Find-Outers had really got going again. For one moment Fatty knew what Mr. Goon felt like, when others interfered! He, Fatty, had often interfered with the policeman's working out of a mystery—and now here was Goon doing the same thing. And he'd done it the evening before, too, in the Waxworks Hall. It was most exasperating.
Number Three, giving occasional scowling glances behind him, saw that Goon was hot on his trail. He didn't really need to look round him to see the policeman, because he could hear him well enough too—Goon's puffs and pants were terrific.
A little grin curled the corners of Number Three's lips. Goon wanted a bicycle ride, did he? All right then, he could have it, with pleasure. Number Three would take him for a long, long ride through the countryside, on this hot, sultry afternoon!
Fatty soon began to have an inkling of the way in which Number Three's mind was working, for the man suddenly seemed to have a tremendous desire to cycle up all the steep hills it was possible to find.
He was a strong, muscular fellow, and he sailed up the hills easily enough—but poor Goon found it terribly hard work, and Fatty wasn't very happy either. He began to puff too, and to wish that he had given Larry or Pip the job of shadowing this extremely active fellow.