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are.”
    “Will you go with him?” asked Bets.
    “No. I’ll be flashing the lights,” said Fatty with a grin. The others looked at him enviously.
    “Wish we could come too,” said Larry. “It’s maddening to be forbidden to do anything these hols.”
    “Well, you’re not forbidden to play a trick on somebody,” said Fatty, considering the matter. “You’re forbidden to get mixed up in any mystery or to go and look for one. You’re not looking for a mystery, and there certainly isn’t one, so I don’t see why you and Pip can’t come.”
    The other’s faces brightened. But Bets and Daisy were soon disappointed. “The girls can’t come out these cold nights,” went on Fatty. “We’ll have to find something else for them to do. Look here - I’ll do a bit of disguising the first night Ern goes mystery-hunting - and you two boys can do the light-flashing. I’ll let Ern discover me crouching in a ditch or something, so that he really will think he’s happened on some robber or other.”
    “Yes - that would be fine!” said Larry. “When shall we do it?”
    “Can’t do it tonight,” said Fatty. “We may not be able to get in touch with Ern in time. Tomorrow night, say.”
    “Wasn’t Ern funny when you spouted all that verse, said Larry, with a grin. “I don’t know how you do it, Fatty, really I don’t. Ern thinks you’re the world’s wonder. I wonder if Sid and Perce are just as easy to take in as Ern. Are we going to meet again today?”
    “If I can get my mother to say you can all come to tea, I’ll telephone you,” said Fatty. “I don’t see why I can’t go and buy a whole lot of cakes, and have you to tea down here in the shed. We’d be nice and cosy, and we could make as much noise as we liked.”
    But alas for Fatty’s plan, an aunt came to tea, and he was made to go and behave politely at tea-time, handing bread and butter, jam and cakes in a way that Ern would have admired tremendously.
    Ern was not having a very good time with his uncle. He had tried in vain to replace the notebook he had taken, but Mr. Goon always seemed to be hovering about. Ern didn’t mean to let his unde see him put it back!
    He kept trying to go into his uncle’s office, which was next to a little wash-place off the hall. But every time he sauntered out into the hall, whistling softly as if he hadn’t a care in the world, his uncle saw him.
    “What you want?” he kept asking. “Why are you so fidgety? Can’t a man have forty winks in peace without you wandering about, and whistling a silly tune?”
    “Sorry, Uncle,” said Ern, meekly. “I was just going to wash my hands.”
    “What, again?” said Mr. Goon, disbelievingly. “You’ve washed them twice since dinner already. What’s this new idea of being clean? I’ve never known you wash your hands before unless I told you.”
    “They feel sort of - well, sort of sticky,” said Ern, rather feebly. He went back into the kitchen, where his uncle was sitting in his armchair, his coat unbuttoned, and his froggy eyes looking half-closed and sleepy. Why didn’t he go to sleep as he usually did?
    Ern sat down. He picked up a paper and pretended to read it. Mr. Goon knew he was pretending, and he wondered what Ern was up to. He didn’t want to wash his hands! No, he wanted to go into his uncle’s office. What for? Mr. Goon thought deeply about the matter.
    A sudden thought came into him mind. Aha! It was that cheeky toad of a boy, Frederick Trotteville, who had put Ern up to snooping about his office to see if any mystery was afoot. The sauce! Well, let him catch Ern snooping in his desk, and Ern would feel how hard his hand was! He began to hope that Ern would do a bit of snooping. Mr. Goon felt that he would quite like to give somebody a really good ticking-off! He was in that sort of mood, what with that dog snapping at his ankles and making him rush off like that in front of Ern.
    He closed his eyes. He pretended to snore a little. Ern rose quietly and made for the door. He stopped in the hall and looked back. Mr. Goon