Dick had a sudden picture of the valiant little Jo speeding through woods and fields, over hills and through valleys, as straight as a crow flying homewards. How did she find her way like that? He knew he would never be able to!

Jo slipped out over the windowsill, and down the tree, as easily as a cat. “Bye!” she said. “See you soon.”

“Give our love to Jane,” whispered Dick.

“Shan’t!” said Jo, much too loudly, and disappeared.

Julian switched out the light. “Whew!” he said, “I always feel as if I’ve been blown about by a strong, fresh wind when I see Jo. What a girl! Fancy wanting to ride all the way to Granton tonight, after running all the way here from Berta’s!”

“Yes. I’m jolly glad you forbade her to take your bike,” said Dick. “It’s a good thing she wouldn’t dare to disobey you!”

He got into bed — and just at that very moment the two boys heard a loud ringing noise. Dick sat up straightaway.

“Well, I’m blowed!” he said. “The little wretch!”

“What’s up?” said Julian, and then he too realised what the ringing was — a Bicycle Bell. Yes, a bell rung loudly and defiantly by someone cycling swiftly along the sea-road towards Granton!

“It’s Jo!” said Dick. “And she’s taken my bike! I know its bell. Gosh, won’t I rub her face in the mud when I get hold of her!”

Julian gave a loud guffaw. “She’s a monkey, a gallant, plucky, loyal, aggravating monkey. What a cheek she’s got! She didn’t dare to take my bike when I’d said no — so she took yours. Well — we can’t do a thing about it now. What that roundabout boy is going to think when he’s awakened in the middle of the night by Jo, I cannot imagine.”

“He’s probably used to her,” said Dick. “Well, let’s go to sleep. I wonder if George is asleep or awake? I hate to think of her a prisoner somewhere.”

“I bet Timmy hates it more than we do,” said Dick, hearing a long-drawn whimper from the next room. “Poor old Tim. He can’t go to sleep either!”

Dick and Julian managed to go to sleep at last, both thinking of a speedy little figure on a bicycle, racing through the night to ask questions of a roundabout boy called Spiky!

Chapter Seventeen

To Gringo’s Fair

At half-past seven next morning Joan came running upstairs to Julian’s bedroom, a piece of paper in her hand. She knocked on the door.

“Master Julian! A dirty little note was on the front door mat when I got down this morning. It’s folded over, with your name on the outside.”

Julian was out of bed in a trice. A note from the kidnappers perhaps? No — it couldn’t be. They wouldn’t write to him!

It was from Jo! She had scribbled it so badly that Julian could hardly read it.