‘And the gypsies took us prisoners’ yelled Anne.

“But - but - how do Henry and William come into this?” said poor Mrs Johnson, thinking she must really still be asleep. “And what’s the matter with Timmy?”

Timmy had suddenly flopped on the ground. The excitement was over, they were home, now he could put his poor aching head on his paws and sleep!

George was off her horse immediately. “Timmy! Darling Timmy! Brave Timmy! Help me, William. I’ll take him upstairs to my room and see to that cut.”

By this time all the other children were awake and there was such a pandemonium going on that Mrs Johnson couldn’t make herself heard.

Children in dressing-gowns and without, children shouting and yelling, children pouring into the yard and asking questions; William trying to quiet the two horses which were getting very excited at all this sudden clamour; and all the cocks round about crowing their heads off! What an excitement!

The sun suddenly shone out brilliantly, and the last wisps of mist disappeared. “Hurrah! That mist has gone!” shouted George. “The sun’s out. Cheer up, Timmy. We’ll all be all right now!”

Timmy was half-carried, half-dragged up the stairs by William and George. George and Mrs Johnson examined his cut head carefully, and bathed it.

“It really should have been stitched up,” said Mrs Johnson, “but it seems to be healing already. How wicked to hit a dog like that!”

Soon there was the sound of horse’s hooves again in the yard, and Captain Johnson arrived, looking very anxious. At almost the same moment a car slid in at the gates, a police car, with two policemen who had been sent to inquire about the missing girls! Mrs Johnson had forgotten to telephone again to say they had arrived.

“Oh dear, I’m so sorry to have bothered you,” said Mrs Johnson to the police sergeant. “The girls have just arrived back, but I still don’t know what has really happened. Still, they’re safe, so please don’t bother any more.”

“Wait!” said Julian, who was in the room, too. “I think we shall need the police! Something very peculiar has been happening up on the moor.”

“Really, sir? What’s that?” said the sergeant, taking out a note-book.

“We were camping there,” said Julian. “And a plane came over, very low, guided by a lamp set in a sandpit by the gypsies.”

“A lamp set by the gypsies!” said the sergeant, surprised. “But why should they need to guide a plane? I suppose it landed?”

“No. It didn’t,” said Julian. “It came again the next night, and did exactly the same thing, swooping low and circling. But this time it dropped packages, sir!”

“Oh, it did, did it?” said the sergeant, more interested. “For the gypsies to pick up, by any chance?”

“Yes, sir,” said Julian. “But the plane’s aim wasn’t very good, and the packets fell all round us and almost hit us. We ran for shelter, because we didn’t know if there were any explosives or not!”