“Maybe I’ve arrested them all for playing on private property,” said Mr. Goon darkly. “You tell me what you’re all so interested in here, and I’ll tell you where the others are.”
“Oh, Mr. Goon - will you really?” said Fatty, edging away. “Will you let them out of prison if I tell you? Have you told their parents yet that you’ve arrested them? What did they say?”
“You stop cheeking of me,” said Clear-Orf. “And you tell me what’s making you hang about here? This house is empty and children aren’t allowed here.”
Fatty went on edging away, and Mr. Goon went on edging after him, growing purple in the face. Of all the Five Find-Outers he detested Fatty most. Fortunately for Fatty he had Buster with him, and Buster, feeling that matters had gone quite far enough, began to growl.
He then went to sniff at Mr. Goon’s ankles and the policeman kicked him away.
“Look here, Mr. Goon, if you kick Buster, he’ll bite you, and I don’t blame him,” said Fatty, angry to hear the yelp that Buster made. “I shan’t call him off either, if he goes for you. You’ll deserve it.”
Mr. Goon kicked at Buster again, and the dog flew at him, growling furiously. Mr. Goon, seeing two rows of sharp white teeth, got on his bicycle and rode off down the drive at top speed, Buster scurrying after him, barking all the way.
“You haven’t heard the last of this!” yelled Clear-Orf, as he swung out of the gate. “I’ll get to the bottom of this, see if I don’t!”
“Good-bye, and send me a post card when you get to the bottom!” yelled Fatty. “Buster, come here!”