Pip’s mouth fell open. Daisy stared as if she couldn’t believe her eyes. Larry exploded and banged the telegraph-boy on the back.
‘You wretch! You absolute wretch! You took us all in properly - and you took old Clear-Orf in too. Fatty, you’re a marvel. How do you do it?’
Fatty grinned at them all. He removed his red eyebrows with a pull. He rubbed off his freckles with a wetted hanky. He shifted his red wig a little so that the others could see his sleek black hair beneath.
‘Fatty! It’s the most wonderful disguise!’ said Pip enviously. ‘But how do you manage to twist up your mouth to make it different and screw up your eyes to make them smaller and all that kind of thing?’
‘Oh, that’s just good acting,’ said Fatty, swelling a little with pride. ‘I’ve told you before, haven’t I, that I always take the chief part in our school plays, and this last term I...’
But the children didn’t want to hear about Fatty’s wonderful doings at school. They had heard about those too often. Larry interrupted him.
‘Golly! Now I know why the telegraph-boy praised you up so! Idiot! Calling yourself Mr. Trotteville and waiting for your own autograph! Honestly, Fatty, you’re the limit!’
They all went to Pip’s house and were soon settled in the playroom, examining Fatty’s cap and wig and everything.
‘It’s a new disguise I got,’ explained Fatty. ‘I wanted to try it out, of course. Fine wig, isn’t it? It cost an awful lot of money. I daren’t tell Mother. I could hardly wait to play that joke on you. I’m getting awfully good at disguises and acting.’
‘You are, Fatty,’ said Bets generously. ‘I would never have known it was you if I hadn’t noticed Buster sitting down looking up at you with that sort of adoring look he keeps for you, Fatty.’