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round excitedly, barking at the top of its
voice. Buster wriggled in Fatty's arms, and began barking too.
    "Come here, Ming!" said the little old woman at the
door, and Ming obeyed, still barking. "What is it you want?"
    "Er—I'm looking for someone called Smith," said Fatty,
politely. "I don't know if you can help me."
    "Smith? Well, that's our name," said the old
lady. "Who are you? And which of us do you want—me, or my husband?"
    For once in a way Fatty was taken aback. He hadn't for one moment
imagined that he would find a Smith in an ivy-covered house so quickly, and he
hardly knew
    what to say! But Fatty was never at a loss for
long.
    "Er—I'd like to see Miss Annabella-Mary Smith," he said.
"That's if she's here, of course."
    "Oh, you've got the wrong Smith," said the old
lady, briskly. "There's no Miss Smith here, only a Mr. and Mrs.
Smith—my husband and myself. Wait—my husband's here. He may know of another
Smith somewhere near. John! Come here a minute, will you, dear?"
    A nice old man appeared, with a wrinkled, kindly face, and
twinkling eyes. Fatty liked him at once. His wife repeated what Fatty had said.
    "Miss Annabella-Mary Smith?" he said. "No, I don't
know anyone of that name in this road, anyway. We used to live in the big house
next door, you know, and knew everyone in the district—but the place was too
big for us and we moved into this little place—used to be our gardener's
cottage, and very cosy it is too!"
    "Was it ever called The Ivies', asked Fatty, hopefully. Mr.
Smith shook his head.
    "No. It was just called The Cottage", he said.
"Sorry I can't help you."
    "I'm very sorry to have bothered you," said Fatty, and
he raised his cap politely, pleased to have met with such a nice old couple. He
went back to Bets and told her what had happened.
    "I felt rather mean, bothering such nice people," he
said, putting Buster down. "Well—although their name is Smith and they
live in an ivy-covered house, they can't be anything to do with the Smith in
those notes. That little place used to be called The Cottage' not The Ivies'.
Come along—on with the search. Bets. I wonder how the others are getting
on!"
    Bets and Fatty were astonished to discover that there were no more
houses with ivy in the roads they rode along. "Ivy must have gone out of
fashion," said Bets. "There are plenty of houses with roses on the
wall, and clematis and wisteria, and creeper—but no ivy! Well—I must say ivy is
a dark, rather ugly thing to cover a
    house with, when you can get so much prettier things to grow up
the walls. What's the time. Fatty?"
    "Time to meet the others," said Fatty, looking at his
watch. "Come on—let's see how they've got on. Better than we have, I hope.
Certainly we found an ivy-covered house, and people called smith—but not the
ones we want!"
    They cycled off to the corner where they were to meet the others.
Larry and Daisy were there already, waiting patiently. Ern and Pip arrived soon
after, Ern grinning all over his face as usual.
    "Any luck?" asked Fatty.
    "We're not quite sure," said Pip. "Let's got to
your shed. Fatty. We can't talk here. We'll all compare notes, and see if we've
got anything useful!"
    Pip and Ern have some News.
    Soon all six, with Buster running round busily, were sitting once
more in Fatty's shed. He produced some chocolate biscuits, and Buster sat up
and begged at once.
    'No, Buster. Think of your figure," said Fatty, solemnly.
Buster barked loudly.
    "He says—'You jolly well think of yours. Fatty!' said
Bets, with a chuckle. "I'll only have one, thank you. It's getting near
dinner-time, and we're having steak and kidney pudding—I don't want not to be
hungry for that!"
    "Well—any news?" asked Fatty, producing his notebook.
    "You tell yours first," said Pip.
    "There's not much," said Fatty. "Bets and I found
one big ivy-covered house called Barton Grange, in Hollins Road. Ivy almost up
to the roof. We'll have to find
    out if it was ever called 'The Ivies'. And we