"I think you should have told us at tea-time where you intended going this evening," Mrs. Glanville remarked. "The walk was too long for Kitty. If you really suspect that Tim Shuttleworth purchased the rabbit from old Dottin, ask the boy himself and no doubt he will tell you."
"That is what we mean to do, mother; but please don't you or father speak to him about it. Let us do it ourselves."
Mr. and Mrs. Glanville promised they would not interfere in the matter; and though Tim accompanied Mr. Glanville for a walk on the following morning, and exclaimed at the sight of Snip with his torn ears and bandaged neck, he was merely told that the dog had been fighting, and that he must ask Kitty and Bob to tell him all about it. That same day, in the evening, he found an opportunity of doing so, when, having learnt their lessons, the sister and brother strolled out into the back garden as usual.
"Hulloa, Kitty, you're quite lame again," called out Tim, who, mounted on the ladder, was looking over the partition wall. "How is that?"
"Because I walked too far last night," answered Kitty. Then she whispered to her brother, "Let us find out what we want to know now, instead of waiting till Saturday."
"All right," agreed Bob promptly.
"It was last night Snip got so badly mauled, wasn't it?" questioned Tim. "He must have had an awful fight. How did it happen? Was it a big dog he fought with? I suppose it must have been."
"No," Bob replied. "It was old Dottin's monkey—Bimbo."
"Oh!" exclaimed Tim. "I've seen that monkey, but I thought it was very quiet. What made you go to see old Dottin without me? Don't you remember I promised to take you?" There was a tinge of reproach in his tone, and an expression of anxiety had crept into his eyes.
"Yes," assented Kitty, "but we went on private business and wished to go alone."