When all the tasks were allotted their mother said, "If you don't mind, darlings, I'd rather you didn't go off on any very distant explorations until we've got settled in because there are lots of ways you can help. Today you can start by going along to make friends with the Ingleses and getting the milk, and when you get back there'll be time to make the first trip into yonder impenetrable forest! Now be off with you."

The twins hugged her until she begged for mercy and called to David for rescue. Then they remembered to ask Agnes for the milk can and disturbed her singing a doleful hymn whilst drying up.

"As like as two peas," she was heard to murmur. "In a pod and all."

Outside they called and whistled to Macbeth in vain.

"We'll make a new responsibility," David said. "One of you kids will have to take charge of Mac till he learns sense. He'll get so excited for a bit that he may get lost. Who's going to look after him?"

Eventually Mary agreed to look after the dog. But they could not find him, so they abandoned the hunt and David led them off down the lane.

Ingles's farm was not very big, but the farmhouse of red brick was set well back from the road with a large lawn on the right and cowsheds on the left. When they got to the gate a jolly looking man was in the yard harnessing a big horse to a farm cart.

"And who might you be?" he said.

"Good morning," said Mary. "I'm Mary Morton and this is my brother Dickie. We're twins."

"We 'spect you're Mr. Ingles," said Richard. "We've come to have a great adventure at Witchend, and David's here too."

"We hope Mrs. Ingles is well," said Mary.

"We've come for the milk," said Richard.

"Of course you have," said Mr. Ingles with a grin, "Come along in and let's have a look at you and see if I know the difference... And you too, young man."

He led the way round the side of the house into the dairy. There they found Mrs. Ingles who called them all "Ducks", much to David's fury, but she was nice and friendly.

Mary then attached herself to Mr. Ingles, who suddenly bellowed, "Where's young Tom? Where is he? Now what did I tell him he'd got to do this morning? D'you know where he is, Betty me lass?"

"No, I don't," she said, "but it seems to me, Alf, the boy'll be glad there's company come to Witchend."

She turned to David. "Young Tom's my nephew from London, come to bide with us for a while. Run out and see if you can find him, boy. The pair of you should get on together."