"Tom. Get the boy a glass of milk and something to eat," he heard Mrs. Ingles saying, and when he had got his breath back and had a mouthful of cake he felt better. He told his story quickly and well, but not until he had explained how he and Peter believed the twins to be at Witchend all the time, did he add a word about Mrs. Thurston.

"We watched her taking photographs of the reservoir," he said, "but Mr. Sterling thinks she was taking pictures of birds, and it didn't matter. But I think it does matter, and I think there's something fishy about her wandering around on the mountain like she does and being so peculiar to us at Appledore I want to tell Mr. Ingles about her... But the twins are the most important... We've got to do something quickly. Mum said I was to find him and ask him what to do... She said I was to find him first..."

Mrs. Ingles spoke quickly, "Don't you worry, David. We'll find them if the whole county goes out to search. I think you'd better go quickly up the lane and if you meet Mr. Ingles you must stop him and tell him everything just as you told me. He'll take you back to Onnybrook, I shouldn't wonder, but you do what he says and you'll be all right... Now you be off if you've finished your milk! Tom - you'd better get yourself a coat and scarf and go with him."

Tom ran to the stairs, and then came back.

"I can't leave you, Aunt Betty. I promised Uncle I'd stay here."

"Nonsense. Run along with David. He needs your company. I shall be all right."

But Tom would not give way. His uncle had put him in charge of Ingles and he didn't like to leave. David understood how he felt and helped him out.

"That's all right, Tom," he said. "You stay here and I'll go and look for Mr. Ingles and tell him you're waiting till we come. Thank you for the milk, Mrs. Ingles. I feel fine now. I'll find him." And before they could argue any more he went out again into the dark. The mist was not quite as thick now, and the ray of his torch picked out the white bars of the gate. He hurried up the lane and in ten minutes was at the top of the hill where the weather was much better, and once as he looked up he caught a glimpse of the stars. Then, far away below him, he caught the faint "phut-phut" of a motor-cycle engine and after a little the shielded headlight rushed up the hill towards him. He stepped out into the middle of the road and waved his torch shouting, "Mr. Ingles! Is it you? Stop, please!" It was Mr. Ingles, and he drew to a stop a few yards from David and pushed up his goggles.