Mr. Goon immediately thought of the red-headed telegraph-boy. ‘Funny goings-on!’ he said to himself. ‘Them dropped letters now - and that telegraph-boy picking them up - and now this red-headed butcher-boy, without his meat - and maybe delivering that letter to Mrs. Moon. This wants looking into.’
‘The five children are upstairs,’ said Mrs. Hilton. ‘I don’t know if you want to ask them if they saw the butcher-boy. They may give you a few more details.’
‘I’ll see them,’ said Mr. Goon, and went upstairs to the playroom. When he got there the children were apparently playing a game of snap. They looked up as Mr. Goon walked heavily into the room.
‘Good morning,’ he said. ‘Did any of you see a red-headed butcher-boy coming along here this morning?’
‘Yes, I saw him,’ said Pip with a grin.
‘Ho, you did! What did he do?’ asked Mr. Goon.
‘Just rode up the drive,’ said Pip.
‘And rode down again at once, I suppose,’ said Mr. Goon.
‘No. I didn’t see him ride down,’ said Pip. Nobody had apparently. Mr. Goon began to feel that this mysterious red-headed boy must be somewhere about the premises.
‘He a friend of yours?’ he said.