Fatty, of course, was the hero of the evening. His description of secret writing, getting out of locked rooms and wearing disguises was listened to with the utmost astonishment.
“Well, really, Frederick!” said his mother. “I had no idea you were doing all these things. I didn’t even know you knew about them!”
“Well, Mother - you see I’ve been studying detective methods lately,” said Fatty. “I can’t help thinking I have a gift that way, really. I hope you won’t insist on my going in for soldiering, because I’m sure I should be wasted in the army. I’m a born detective, I could tell you things you could hardly believe. Why once -”
“Shut up!” said Pip, unable to bear Fatty’s vanity any longer. “You’re jolly clever at times, I agree; but, after all, it was me climbing that tree that first set us on the track of the Mystery of the Secret Room. You know it was.”
“You all deserve praise,” said the Inspector, beaming round. “Yes, even little Bets here, who was clever enough to smell the orange juice in that note of Frederick’s - and stopped the whole of the Find-Outers from walking into a trap!”
Bets went red. It was tiresome being the youngest Find-Outer, but it was lovely to be praised by the Inspector.
It was a happy and exciting evening. Nobody wanted to go home or go to bed. The Inspector left first, when his car came for him.
“Good night,” he said, “and many, many thanks for solving this mystery. I hope there will be many more for you to solve. I shall always appreciate your help, if I may say so!”
“Good-bye!” said the Find-Outers, and waved to their big friend. It had been lovely to see him again.
“I bet old Clear-Orf is feeling sick,” said Fatty, getting on his coat to go home with Buster and his parents.