“Hallo!” said Julian, and gave Anne a hug. He was very fond of his young sister. ’Hallo, George! My, you’ve grown fat, haven’t you?’

“I have not,” said George, indignantly. “And Timmy isn’t fat either, so don’t tell him he is.”

“Julian’s pulling your leg as usual,” said Dick, giving George a friendly slap on the back. “All the same, you’ve grown a bit - you’ll soon be as tall as I am. Hallo, Timmy! Good dog, fine dog! Tongue as wet as usual? Yes, it is! I never knew a dog with a wetter tongue than yours!”

Timmy went nearly mad with joy at being with all four of his friends. He leapt round them, barking, wagging his long tail and sending a pile of tins crashing to the floor in his delight.

“Now, now!” said the shop-woman, emerging from a dark little room at the back, “Take that dog out. He’s gone mad!”

“Don’t you girls want a drink of ginger-beer or something?” asked Julian, getting hold of Timmy’s collar. “You’d better, because we don’t want to have to carry heavy bottles of drinkables with us.”

“Where are we going to set off to?” asked George. “Yes, I’d like ginger-beer please. Get down, Timmy. Anyone would think you’d been away from Julian and Dick for at least ten years!”

“It probably does seem like ten years to him,” said Anne. “I say - are those sandwiches?”

She pointed to a ledge at the back of the counter. There was a little pile of sandwiches there, looking most appetising.

“Yes, they’re sandwiches, Miss,” said the shop-woman, opening two bottles of ginger-beer. “I’ve made them for my son who works over at Blackbush Farm - he’ll be in for them soon.”

“I suppose you couldn’t make us some, could you?” asked Julian, “We wouldn’t need to bother about trying to get to some village at lunch time then. They look jolly good.”

“Yes. I can make you all you want,” said the shop-woman, putting two glasses down in front of the girls, “What do you want - cheese, egg, ham or pork?”

“Well - we’d like some of all of those,” said Julian, “The bread looks so nice too.”

“I make it myself,” said the woman, pleased, “All right - I’ll go and make you some. You tell me if anyone comes into the shop while I’m gone.”

She disappeared. “That’s good,” said Julian. “If she makes plenty of those we can avoid villages all the day and have a really good day of exploration - treading where no foot has trod before and all that!”

“How many can you manage each?” asked the woman, suddenly reappearing. “My son, he has six - that’s twelve rounds of bread.”

“Well - could you manage eight sandwiches for each of us?” said Julian. The woman looked astonished. “It’s to last us all day,” he explained, and she nodded and disappeared again.

“That’s a nice little sum for her,” said Anne. “Eight sandwiches each, making sixteen rounds of bread - for four people!”