“And I hope his dinner’s gone cold!” said George. “Horrid fellow! Why should he think we’re telling a lot of untruths?”

“It is rather a queer story of ours,” said Julian, “After all - we found it a bit difficult to believe when Dick first told it. I don’t blame the policeman for disbelieving it - I blame him for his manner. It’s a good thing most of our police aren’t the same. Nobody would ever report anything.”

“He told us one bit of good news, anyway,” said Anne. “That escaped prisoner is back in prison again! I’m so relieved to know that.”

“I am too,” said Dick. “I didn’t like the look of him at all. Well, Ju - what do we do now? Forget the whole business? Do you think there’s anything in that message to follow up? And if so - can we do anything?”

“I don’t know,” said Julian. “We must think a bit. Let’s go and see if we can scrounge a meal in some farm-house somewhere. There seem to be plenty around.”

They asked a little girl if there was a farm-house anywhere near that would give them dinner. She nodded and pointed.

“See that farm-house up on the hill there? That’s my Gran’s place. She’ll give you dinner, I expect. She used to give dinner in the summer to trippers, and I expect she would give you some too, if you ask her, though it’s late in the season.”

“Thanks,” said Julian, and they all went up the lane that curved round the hill-side. Dogs barked loudly as they came near and Timmy’s hackles went up at once. He growled.

“Friends, Timmy, friends,” said George. “Dinner here, Timmy. Dinner, perhaps a nice bone for you. Bone!”

Timmy understood. The fur down his neck lay flat again and he stopped growling. He wagged his tail at the two dogs near the farm-gate who sniffed his doggy-smell suspiciously even when he was some distance away.

A man hailed them. “What do you kids want? Mind those dogs!”

“We wondered if we could get a meal here!” called back Julian. “A little girl down in the village said we might.”

“I’ll ask my mother,” said the man, and he yelled in an enormous voice to the farm-house nearby. “Ma! Ma! Four kids out here want to know if you can give them a meal.”

A very fat old lady appeared, with twinkling eyes and red cheeks like an apple. She took one glance at the four by the gate, and nodded her head, “Yes. They look decent children. Tell them to come along in. Better hold their dog’s collar though.”

The four walked to the farm-house, George holding Timmy firmly. The other two dogs came up, but as Timmy was hoping for a bone, he was determined to be friendly, and not a single growl came from him, even when the two dogs growled suspiciously. He wagged his tail, and let his tongue hang out.

The other dogs soon wagged theirs, and then it was safe to let Timmy go. He bounded over to them and there was a mad game of ‘chase-me-roll-me-over’ as George called it.