‘I’m afraid I’ve no red-haired, freckled telegraph-boy for a friend, much as I would like one,’ said Fatty. ‘But why all these questions about a telegraph-boy?’
Mr. Goon wasn’t going to tell him. But he made a mental note to get hold of that telegraph-boy and ask him a few questions. Perhaps he and Fatty were in league together!
‘Well, I’ll go now,’ said Fatty politely, ‘unless you’ve got any more questions to ask me about telegraph-boys, Mr. Goon? Oh - and would you like another clue? Wait a bit, I’ll see if I’ve got one about me!’
To Mr. Goon’s rage he felt in his pockets and produced a doll’s straw hat. ‘Now was that a clue?’ murmured Fatty, but, seeing Mr. Goon gradually turning a familiar purple, he moved swiftly through the door.
‘If you don’t clear-orf,’ said Mr. Goon, between his teeth, ‘if you don’t clear-orf... I’ll... I’ll...’
But Fatty had cleared-orf. He sprinted back to Pip’s. The mystery of the letters was warming up again!
THREE MORE SUSPECTS
He was soon back in the playroom, relating everything to the others. How they roared when they heard about Mr. Goon coming in and hearing that Fatty had seen all the letters!
‘That must have given him a shock!’ said Pip. ‘He’ll wonder for hours how you’ve seen them. I bet he’ll go about looking for that telegraph-boy now - he knows he’s the one who handed him the letters he was supposed to have dropped.’
‘Well, he’ll be lucky if he finds the telegraph-boy, even if he goes up to the post-office to look for him!’ said Fatty. ‘But I say - now we know why none of the bus passengers posted the letter! It was delivered by hand instead! No wonder we didn’t see anyone popping the letter into Sheepsale post-box!’