"I'm thinking we'll have to search the other side of the mountain and Appledore woods."

Peter by this time was so tired that her father decided to take her home.

Then the newcomer spoke up rather apologetically. "I'm awfully sorry," he said, "but I wonder if you can manage without me. Actually I fell into a hollow hidden by the heather when I was wandering about in the fog, and I'm afraid I turned my ankle. I hoped it would be all right, but it's painful now, and I don't think I'll be much use to you... If Mr. Sterling would be so hospitable as to allow me to sleep at Hatchholt till the morning I'll be very grateful. Frankly I don't feel fit for much more. I seem to have got chilled, too, in that beastly fog, and I can't stop my teeth from chattering!" He finished with a nervous little laugh, and there was an awkward silence until one of the men produced a pocket flask and passed it over to him. Then Mr. Sterling made rather unenthusiastic noises which appeared to signify doubtful approval.

"Hrrrm! Ahem! Not much accommodation, Mr. Evans. Hrrrm!... Shake down on the sofa if you like."

Mr. Evans's thanks were almost embarrassing, and the party then split up. The six men from Onnybrook stretched out again in a line headed towards Appledore - a line which would first go over again the ground already searched. Bill went across to Peter.

"Cheer up, old lady!" he whispered. "We'll find them, never fear. And thanks for your help, Peter. You've been grand." Now go back to bed. That's where little girls should be...

Peter felt better for being home and, in spite of Mr. Sterling's protests, insisted upon unsaddling Sally herself. When she came in, blinking in the strong light of the lamp, her father was bustling round murmuring something about, "A cup of tea for us, Mr. Evans, and bread and milk for my little girl when she's in bed."

The stranger was helping to make up the fire, and had put his heavy knapsack under the table.

"I don't want any bread and milk, thank you, Father," Peter said. "I'm too sleepy. I'll just go to bed. Good night, Mr. Evans, and thank you for helping us."

Downstairs the two men chatted for a little and then Mr. Sterling made up the fire, found two blankets for his guest whose lot it was to sleep on the shiny black sofa, and left him.

When Peter woke the sun was shining through the window onto her pillow. She stretched her legs and turned over blissfully. How lovely it was to be warm and cosy in bed! Then she heard somebody whistle - not a tune but the sort of whistle you use to attract somebody's attention. "Anybody awake up there?"