He found Bobby Brown standing in the middle of a geranium border, his mouth wide open, and his blue eyes very round.
“Hullo!” said Nipper. “What are you doing—staring at nothing like a stuck pig.”
“Sh-sh-sh!” said Bobby, and pointed up at the store-room window a few feet above his head.
“He must be potty,” Nipper told himself, and also leapt into the middle of the geranium bed; he had never thought of doing this before; it was delightful to think how angry Mr. Pooks would be if he could see, but it was Bobby who had started it, and Bobby never set bad examples—Miss Prince said so.
“Listen,” said Bobby.
Nipper listened. A hoarse, strange voice was talking in the store-room.
The store-room was a small room opening out of the hall. It was always kept locked, because Mr. Ogden kept his guns and fishing rods in there. The windows were barred. Who on earth could be talking in it?
“Make a back, you fat-head, instead of standing there staring, and I’ll have a squint,” commanded Nipper.
Bobby meekly obeyed, and presented a small fat back, upon which Nipper ruthlessly stepped, with hard and painful boots.
“Ow-w-w-oo!” said Bobby.