‘Yes, you laugh at me, you cheeky little toad!’ roared Mr. Goon. ‘I’ll tell of you, you see if I don’t. I’ll be seeing your Ma this morning and I’ll put in a complaint. I’m going right along there now.’
Fatty brushed Mr. Goon down so smartly that the policeman jumped aside. ‘You’re all dusty, Mr. Goon,’ said Fatty anxiously. ‘You can’t go to Mrs. Hilton’s in this state. Just a few more whacks and you’ll be all right!’
‘Wait till you get the whacks you want!’ said Mr. Goon, putting his helmet on firmly. ‘Never knew such children in me life! Nothing but trouble round every corner where you are! Gah!’
He rode off, leaving the children standing in the lane with their bicycles. ‘Well, that was a bit of a nuisance bumping into him like that,’ said Fatty.
‘I didn’t particularly want him to see any of us today. I don’t want him to suspect we’re on his track. Now let me see - he’s off to collect those things for Gladys from your mother, Pip. There’s no doubt about that. So all we’ve got to do now is to lie in wait for him somewhere and then follow him very carefully.’
‘Let’s go to the church corner,’ said Pip. ‘He’s sure to pass there, wherever he goes. Come on!’
So off they went, and hid behind some trees, waiting for old Clear-Orf to show them the way to where Gladys lived.
A TALK WITH POOR GLADYS
In about half an hour Mr. Goon came cycling along, and went right by the hidden children without seeing them.
‘Now listen!’ said Fatty. ‘It’s no use us all tearing after him in a bunch because we’d be so easy to spot. I’ll go first and keep a long way ahead. You follow, see? If I have to take a turning you may not know I’ll tear a sheet out of my notebook and drop it the way I go.’