Fatty stared at Bets. Then he burst out into such a hearty laugh that Bets was startled. ‘Have I said something funny?’ she asked.
‘No, Bets. But don’t you realize which of the passengers posted a letter?’ said Fatty, grinning.
‘Nobody did,’ said Bets. ‘Well - except you, of course!’
‘Yes - me!’ said Fatty. ‘And it’s going to make old Goon scratch his head hard when he thinks that of all his precious Suspects only one posted a letter - and that was his pet aversion, Frederick Trotteville!’
Bets laughed too. ‘That’s funny!’ she said. ‘But, Fatty, nobody could possibly think you would write horrid letters like that!’
‘Old Clear-Orf would believe I’d stolen the Crown Jewels, if there was any suspicion of it,’ said Fatty. ‘He’s got such a bad opinion of me! He’d think me capable of anything. Golly - he must be in a state, wondering who’s going to get that letter tomorrow morning!’
‘And nobody will get a letter!’ said Bets. ‘Because one hasn’t been posted. It will be the first Monday that is missed for six weeks. I wonder why?’
‘So do I,’ said Fatty. ‘Of course - if one does arrive - it will mean that the writer lives in Sheepsale after all, and has just posted the letter any time this morning, before the bus came up. Then we shall be properly stuck. We can’t watch all the inhabitants of Sheepsale posting letters!’
‘Perhaps whoever comes up on the bus to post the letters each Monday didn’t come today for some reason,’ said Bets.
‘That’s an idea,’ said Fatty. ‘When we go back on the bus we’ll ask the conductor if he always has his regular passengers each Monday, and see if any didn’t go this morning. We could make inquiries about them too - see if they’ve got any spite against Gladys or Molly or the others, and so on.’