They decided to go. Tupping looked as if he might hit them at any moment. They made their way to the wall. They saw that Bets was not with them, but they thought she must have run back and climbed over the wall in her fear of the surly gardener. Fatty called Buster.
"No; you leave that dog with me," said Tupping. "A good hiding will do him good. I'll give him one, then he won't come interfering in my garden again."
"Don't you dare to touch my dog!" cried Fatty at once. "He'll bite you."
Tupping made a grab for Buster and got him by the collar. He held him firmly by the back of the neck so that he couldn't even snap. He jerked him off his feet into the air, and then, carrying him by the back of the neck, marched off with him. Fatty was almost beside himself with anger.
He ran after the gardener and pulled at his arm. The man hit out at the boy, and Fatty gasped. Tupping threw the dog into a shed, shut the door, turned the key and put it into his pocket. Then he turned to Fatty with such an ugly look on his face that the boy turned and ran.
Soon all four were over the wall, lying on the grass, panting and angry. They had left poor frightened Luke behind, and poor scared Miss Harmer. They had left Bets behind too, though they didn't know it — and Buster was locked in the shed.
"Hateful man!" said Daisy, almost in tears.
"The beast!" said Fatty between his teeth. "Look at this bruise already showing on my arm. That's where he hit me."
"Poor old Buster," said Pip, hearing an anguished whine in the distance.
"Where's Bets?" said Larry, looking all round. "Bets, Bets! Where are you?"