"I don't know," Robert was forced to say.
P.C. Roper smiled a deadly smile. "Oho!" he said. "You don't know who gave you the caravan! Things are looking up. Caravans drop from the sky, do they? A very thin story indeed. I'll trouble you to come with me, all of you, and see my inspector."
P.C. Roper was quite happy now. He had not only filled the impertinent children with fear, but he had done a smart thing on his very first day as constable. He drew himself up, and returned the notebook to his pocket.
"Your inspector?" Robert said. "Where does he live?"
"Well," said P.C. Roper, "he lives at Bidford, but he's at Stratford to-day, at the Police Court, and he won't be back till the evening."
"We can't wait till evening," Robert said. "It would throw out all our plans."
"Plans!" exclaimed P.C. Roper. "Plans indeed! Aren't you suspicious-looking persons in the possession of an unlicensed caravan, and unable to give any reasonable account of how you got it? Your plans can wait."
"Please give us a little time to discuss it," Janet said, and they all surrounded Kink once more.
"Of course it's absurd," Jack said; "but what an awful pity you don't know who X. is! That's what makes the trouble. It looks so silly, too."
"Do you really think that caravans have to show licenses?" Janet asked Kink.