"Well, you go, then," said Mr. Goon's voice. "No need for you to hang about here if you've finished your everlasting lemonade, see?"

This was awkward. Larry was supposed to watch the bench and Fatty until the others came back. He couldn't very well leave his post. But just at that moment the others did come back I They clattered in, chattering.

Larry stood up at once. "Hallo, you others! I'm glad you've come for me. I suppose Pip wants to stay and have a lemonade as usual. Well, you girls and I will go and leave him guzzling!"

For a wonder even Bets sensed that Larry wanted to leave only one of them behind. So the girls went off with Larry, and left Pip to seat himself at the window-table, with a glowering Mr. Goon nearby. Was he never going to get rid of these children!

Larry took the girls off, and when they were safely round the corner, he told them how Mr. Goon had ordered him to go. "So I thought we'd better only just leave Pip behind," he said, "and then that still leaves two more of us to go in singly and drink lemonade or eat ices. I think Goon is getting suspicious of us!”

"Larry! We had a most interesting time at the shop where the hooters are sold," said Bets. "Listen!"

She told Larry all about it. She and Pip and Daisy had gone into the shop, which sold bicycles, tyres, pumps, bells, hooters, torches, toys, prams, and many other things. There was a cheeky-looking boy in charge.

"Afternoon," he said, when they all trooped in. "And what may I do for you! Want a pram, perhaps?"

Bets giggled. "No," she said. "We want a hooter. My bell isn't very good, and I thought a hooter would make quite a change."

"Well, you're lucky," said the boy, going over to a shelf and getting down a rubber hooter. "We only had these in last week. First we've had for months!"

The children tried it. It hooted very nicely indeed. Parp-parp! Parp-parp!

"Do you sell many?" asked Pip, whilst the two girls ambled round the shop, pretending to look at everything.

"Only sold three this week," said the boy.

"All to cyclists?" asked Pip.

"How should I know?" said the boy. "The customers don't wheel their bikes into the shop with them!"

Pip didn't quite know what to say next. He joined the girls, and they all examined the contents of the rather interesting shop.

"You've got an awful lot of things here," said Daisy. "Do you remember all the prices and everything?"

" 'Course. I've got a good memory," said the boy. "At the end of the day I remember every blessed thing I've sold!"

"Gracious!" said Daisy admiringly. "I bet you don't remember every customer too!"

"Oh yes, I do," said the boy proudly. "Never forget a thing, I don't!"

"Well—I bet you don't remember the customers who bought the three hooters!" said Daisy, quick as a flash. Pip and Bets thought how clever she was!

" 'Couse I do," said the boy. "One was the fellow that lives down the road at Kosy-Kot. The second one was a fellow with rather queer eyes—one blue and one brown—I don't know his name and never saw him before. But I'd know him again all right. And the third one was a fat boy who seemed in a bit of a hurry."

"That was Fatty," thought the three children. Daisy smiled at the shop-boy. "What a memory you've got!" she said. "You really are a marvel. Well, we must be going. Got your hooter, Bets? Well, come on, then!"

They hurried out of the shop, rejoicing. The man at Kosy-Kot—and a man with odd eyes. They might be Clues, they really might!

Pip was having a boring time in the sweet-shop. There was nothing to see outside, except the old man on the bench. Nobody went near him at all. Mr. Goon breathed heavily behind Pip, evidently finding the shop a very hot place to be in on this blazing day. Pip made his lemonade last out a long time and then, to Mr. Goon's annoyance, asked for an ice.

"You children seem to live here," said Mr. Goon, at last.

"You seem to, as well," said Pip. "Nice shop, isn't it?"

Mr. Goon didn't think so at all. He was sick and tired of the shop—but it was the best place to watch that old man from, no doubt about that!

"You look hot," said Pip sympathetically. "Why don't you go for a row on the river, Mr. Goon? It would be cool there. Seems a pity to spend all your holiday cooped up here."

Mr. Goon gave one of his snorts. He wasn't on holiday. He was on a case, a most important case. And for reasons of his own he had to wear plain clothes. But he couldn't explain all that to this irritating boy. Mr. Goon wished Pip was a mosquito. Then he would slap at him, and finish him off.

Bets came in next, and Pip was very glad to see her. "Going to have an ice?" he said. "Well, sorry I can't wait with you, Bets. So long!"

He went out and, to Mr. Goon's annoyance, yet another of those children, Bets this time, settled down at the window-table, obviously intending to be there for some time. Bets was afraid of the policeman, so she kept her back to him and said nothing at all, but kept a sharp eye on the old man opposite on the bench. She thought how bored poor Fatty must be!

Fatty had a coughing fit, and Bets watched in alarm. The cough seemed so very real that she felt sure poor Fatty must be getting a terrible cold.

Then Fatty had a fit of the sniffles, and hunted all over himself for a handkerchief, at last producing a violent red one. Then he got up and hobbled round a bit, as if he had got stiff with sitting. Nobody in the world would have guessed he was anything but a poor, stiff old man.

Bets enjoyed the performance immensely. She knew that Fatty was putting it on for her benefit. Fatty liked little Bets' admiration, and he was pondering whether or not he should actually light the pipe he had filled, and try smoking it. That would send Bets into fits!

But he didn't dare to. He had tried already and it had made him feel very sick. So he contented himself with putting the filled pipe in his mouth unlighted, and keeping it there.

All the Find-Outers were glad when that day was over. It really began to be very boring, taking turns at sitting in the sweet-shop, and watching for something that didn't happen. As for Fatty, he was terribly bored.

"Tomorrow I'm going to supply myself with plenty of newspapers to read," he said. "I simply can't spend hours filling pipes and coughing and sniffing. And all for nothing too. Not a soul passed me a message or anything."

"We found out something interesting at the hooter-shop, though," said Bets, and she told Fatty about the two men who had bought hooters that week.

"One who lives at Kosy-Kot, and one man with odd eyes," she said. "The boy didn't know where he lived. And the third person who bought a hooter was you, of course."

"Has that shop only sold three hooters all these months, then?" said Fatty, surprised.

"Well, they've only just got them in," said Pip." "That's why. So, if that fellow who spoke to you the other day on the bench is a member of the gang, he's either living at Kosy-Kot—or he's wandering about somewhere with odd eyes—one blue and one brown!"

"We'd better try Kosy-Kot first," said Fatty, pleased. "You did well, Find-Outers. How did you get all this information?"

"Well, Daisy did, really," said Pip and he told Fatty how it had happened. Fatty banged Daisy on the back.

"Jolly good," he said. "Very quick-witted. Now—who's going to tackle Kosy-Kot?"

"Isn't it a frightful name?" said Pip. "Why do people choose names like that? Can't we go down into the village and find it tomorrow morning? It's too late now."

"Right," said Fatty. "We will. I shan't have to masquerade as that old fellow till the afternoon, so I can come with you. Meet at Pip's tomorrow morning, ten o'clock sharp."