“It was bad luck,” said Jack gloomily. “I was an idiot to let him go up. Somehow I never thought of anyone lying in wait for one of us up there.”
“What are we going to do now?” asked Peggy, wiping her eyes. “We’ll have to get Mike back somehow. What will Dimmy say to-morrow morning when he doesn’t go down to breakfast?”
“Cheer up,” he said. “After all, we do know where Mike is - and we’ve only got to go to the police and they’ll get him back for us.”
“There’s only one fat old policeman here and he doesn’t belong to Spiggy Holes,” said Peggy. “And anyway we can’t get him in the middle of the night.”
“I want to tell Dimmy,” said Nora suddenly. “We will have to tell here to-morrow morning anyhow - and I want to tell her to-night. I can’t go to sleep unless we tell somebody grown-up about Mike being caught.”
“But we can’t wake Dimmy in the middle of the night!” said Jack. “We’d better wait till the morning. Mike will be all right to-night; there’s a bed in that tower-room, I saw it through the key-hole last night.”
“I want to tell Dimmy,” wept poor Nora. “I do want to tell Dimmy.”
The little girl felt that if only she could tell somebody grown-up something could be done. Grown-up people were powerful - she even had an idea that Dimmy might march up to the Old House straightaway and demand that Mike should be set free!
“Well, we’ll go and wake Dimmy and tell her now, if you feel you must let her know to-night,” said Jack, who secretly felt as if he would like to tell her as soon as possible too. “She may have a good idea.”
So down the winding staircase of their little tower went the three children, through the tower door into the kitchen and then up the carpeted staircase to Dimmy’s bedroom. They knocked on the door.