“Oh, dear,” said Anne. “I do hate this kind of thing. We were having such a lovely time before the fair people arrived. But it seems quite impossible to get them to be friends with us.”

“Quite,” said Julian. “I’m not so sure I want to be friendly now, either. I’d rather give up this holiday altogether and go back home than have continual trouble going on round us! Dick and I will go and tackle the fair-folk after breakfast.”

Breakfast was just as solemn as supper had been. Julian was rather silent. He was thinking what was best to say to the sullen folk in the next field. “You must take Timmy with you,” said George, voicing the thoughts of everyone.

Julian and Dick set off with Timmy about half past eight. All the fair people were up and about, and the smoke of their fires rose up in the morning air.

Julian thought he would go and tackle the fire-eater, so the two boys went towards his caravan. The other fair people looked up, and one by one left their vans or their fires and closed round the boys. Timmy bared his teeth and growled.

“Mr. Alfredo,” began Julian, “the farmer is turning us out of that field. We must come back here. We want you to lend us two horses for our vans.”

A ripple of laughter spread through the listening people. Mr. Alfredo answered politely, with a large smile on his face. “What a pity! We don’t hire out our horses!”

“I don’t want to hire them from you,” said Julian, patiently. “It’s up to you to let us have them to bring back our vans. Otherwise — well, I shall have to go and ask the police for help. Those caravans don’t belong to us, you know.”

There was an angry murmur from the listening crowd. Timmy growled more loudly. One or two of the fair-folk stepped back hurriedly when they heard him.

CRACK! Julian turned quickly. The fair people ran back, and the two boys found that they were facing Bufflo, who, with a large and unpleasant grin on his face, was swinging his whip in his hand.

CRACK! Julian jumped violently, for a few hairs from the top of his head were suddenly whisked off into the air — the end of the lash had neatly cut them away!

The crowd laughed loudly. Timmy bared his white teeth, and snarled.

Dick put his hand down on the dog’s collar. “Do that again and I shan’t be able to hold the dog!” he called, warningly.

Julian stood there, at a loss to know what to do next. He couldn’t bear turning tail and going off to the accompaniment of jeers and howls. He was so full of rage that he couldn’t say a word.

And then something happened. Something so utterly unexpected that nobody did anything at all except let it happen!

A boyish figure came running up the grassy hillside — someone very like George, with short curly hair and a very freckled face — someone dressed, however, in a short grey skirt, and not in shorts, like George.