“Still sitting on your pullover, and he’ll be guarding it till tomorrow morning if you don’t go and get him,” said Larry. “He’s only got one thought in his doggy head now - to guard that pullover of yours.”
“I’ll go and get him,” said Fatty. “You walk on slowly and I’ll catch you up.”
He ran on down the lane to Milton House. Buster burst into a hurricane of delighted barks as soon as he saw him. “Good dog,” said Fatty, patting him. “Off guard now, old fellow - off guard. Let me get my pullover.”
Buster allowed Fatty to get his pullover and put it on. Fatty, who had not been thoroughly round the house as the others had, thought he would just take a quick look round. Maybe he might see something they had missed. So he trotted round the house and began to look carefully in at every window.
He jumped terribly when a stern voice came across the garden. “Now then! What you a-doing of? Didn’t I send you all off a few minutes ago?”
“Clear-Orf - back again,” thought Fatty, annoyed with himself for being found there. “Blow!”
Clear-Orf wheeled his bicycle over to him. “Now you tell me what you’re doing here,” he demanded.
Fatty looked all round as if hunting for something. “I left the others here,” he said. “But now they’re gone.”
“And you was peeking in at all the windows to see if they’d slipped through a crack!” said Clear-Orf smartly.
“How clever you are, Mr. Goon,” said Fatty. “You always think of such bright things. Do you know where the others are?”