“Yes - your nose must do a little better in future, Goon,” said the Inspector.
“A-TISH-OO!” sneezed Goon. “Well, sir - a-TISH-OO!”
“Go home, Goon, and get to bed,” said the Inspector. “You’ve got a bad cold.”
“Yes, I have,” said Goon, wiping his nose with a tremendous pocket-handkerchief. “Oughtn’t to be up at all by rights, but I felt it was me duty, sir, when I knew there was queer goings-on here, like. Thought I’d better risk getting pewmonia than neglect me duty, sir.”
“Very noble of you, Goon,” said the Inspector gravely. “Now get back home. I’ll have a talk with you tomorrow.”
Goon disappeared into the night, sniffiing and sneezing. He gave Fatty one last spiteful look, but Fatty didn’t mind. Buster gave Mr. Goon a few parting barks.
“And now,” said the Inspector, “do you think, Pip, that your good mother would let me share your supper? I have a feeling that she may like to hear a little of all this - I hope you agree with me?”
“Oh yes!” said Pip joyfully. He had been wondering how to explain everything to his mother and father. He knew his mother liked and admired the Inspector. Now things could all be straightened out, and there would be no scoldings for anything.
It ended in being a big supper-party, and a most enjoyable one. When Pip’s mother heard that something extraordinary had happened, and that the Inspector felt very pleased with the Five Find-Outers once again, she telephoned to Fatty’s parents, who were now back, and to Larry’s, asking them to come down and join them in supper that night.
The children all stayed up too, and the conversation was most interesting. The grown-ups listened in amazement to the tale of the third mystery, and though Pip’s mother secretly thought she really didn’t like Pip and Bets being mixed up in such queer doings, she didn’t say so.