“Get him,” said Pottersham, to one of the men behind him, and Dick was pounced on. Then Terry-Kane was taken too, and his arms held behind him.

“What about these other kids?” he said, angrily. “You’re surely not going to lock them up in this room and leave them.”

“Yes, we are,” said Pottersham. “We’re leaving a note for the old turnstile woman to tell her they’re up here. Let the police rescue them if they can!”

“You always were a…” began Terry-Kane, and then ducked to avoid a blow.

Timmy barked madly all the time, and almost choked himself trying to get away from George and Julian. He was mad with rage, and when he saw Dick being roughly treated he very nearly did manage to get loose. “Take them,” ordered Pottersham. “And hurry. Go on — down the steps with them.”

The three men forced Terry-Kane and Dick to the stone stairs — and then everyone shot round in astonishment! A loud voice suddenly came from the window!

Anne gasped. Bufflo was there! He hadn’t been able to understand why nobody came down the peg-rope, so he had come up to find out. And to his enormous surprise there appeared to be quite an upset going on!

“Hey there! WHAT’S UP?” he yelled, and slid into the room, looking most out of place with his mop of yellow hair, gay checked shirt and whip!

“BUFFLO!” shouted all four of the children, and Timmy changed his angry bark to a welcoming one. Terry-Kane looked on in astonishment, his arms still pinioned behind him.

“Who in the world is this?” shouted Pottersham, alarmed at Bufflo’s sudden appearance through the window. “How did he get through there?”

Bufflo eyed the gun in Pottersham’s hand and lazily cracked his small whip once or twice. “Put that thing away,” he said, in his drawling voice. “You ought to know better than to wave a thing like that about when there’s kids around. Go on — put it away!”

He cracked his whip again. Pottersham pointed the gun at him angrily. And then a most amazing thing happened.

The gun disappeared from Pottersham’s hand, flew right up into the air, and was neatly caught by Bufflo! And all by the crack of a whip!

Crack! Just that — and the gun had been flicked from his hand by the powerful lash-end — and had stung Pottersham’s fingers so much he was now howling in pain and bending double to nurse his injured hand.

Terry-Kane gasped. What a neat trick — but how dangerous! The gun might have gone off. Now the tables were indeed turned, for it was Bufflo who held the gun, not Pottersham. And Pottersham looked very pale indeed!

He stared as if he hardly knew what to do. “Let go of them,” ordered Bufflo, nodding his head towards Terry-Kane and Dick. The three men released them and stood back.

“Seems as if we got to get the police after all,” remarked Bufflo, in a perfectly ordinary voice, as if these happenings were not at all unusual. “You can let that dog go now, if you want, Julian.”