“Towards the east,” said Spiky. “On the road to Big-Twillingham.”

“Well, that’s something to know,” said Dick. “Come on, let’s get our bikes. Thanks most awfully, Spiky. You’ve been a terrific help. We’ll let you know what happens.”

“Call on me if ever you want more help,” said Spiky, proudly, and gave them a smart little salute, bobbing his head so that his spikes of hair shook comically.

The three of them rode off, with Timmy running beside them again. As soon as they got home they told Anne and Joan all they had found out. Joan was for ringing up the police at once again, but Julian stopped her.

“I think perhaps we can do this next bit of work better than they can,” he said. “We’re going to try and find out where the car went, Joan. Now — where are the maps of the district?”

They found them and began to pore over them. Jo was quite lost when it came to map-reading. She could find her way anywhere, day or night — but not with a map!

“Now — here’s the road to Big-Twillingham and Little Twillingham,” he said. “Let’s list carefully all the roads the car could take from there. My word — it’s a job!”

Chapter Nineteen

An exciting plan

After fifteen minutes they had six towns on their list, all of which could have been reached in about half-an-hour from Big-Twillingham, which was two miles away from the Fair.

“And now what do you propose to do, Ju?” asked Dick. “Bike over to all the towns and ask if anyone has seen the car?”

“No. We can’t possibly do that,” said Julian. “I’m going down to the garage to see our friend Jim, and get his help! I’m going to ask him to ring up any friends he has in the garages in those towns, and ask if they’ve seen the car passing through.”

“Won’t he think it’s a bit funny?” asked Anne.

“Yes. But he won’t mind how funny it is if we pay the telephone calls and give him ten shillings for his trouble!” said Julian, folding up the map. “And what’s more he won’t ask any questions either. He’ll probably think it’s some silly bet we’ve got on with one another.”

Jim was quite willing to ring up the garages for them. He knew boys working in main garages in four of the towns, and he knew the hall-porter of a hotel in the fifth town. But he knew no one in the sixth.

“That don’t matter!” he said. “We’ll ring up the garage in the High Street there, and just ask whoever comes to the phone.”

Jim rang up the garage in Hillingford, and had a rather cheeky conversation with his friend there. He put the receiver down. “No go,” he said. “He says no car like that came through Hillingford, or he’d have noticed it that time of day. I’ll ring up Jake at Green’s Garage in Lowington now.”