"Well," said Larry, that's settled then. You meet me at half-past nine behind Mr. Smellie's house, and hoot like an owl to tell me you're there. I shall probably be Md-ing in the bushes somewhere, waiting for you."

The children all felt excited as they went to bed that night. At least, Fatty didn't go to bed, though Larry did. But then Larry's mother usually came to tuck him up and say good night, and Fatty's didn't. So Fatty felt quite safe as he sat, fully-dressed, in His bedroom, reading a book to make the time pass.

At ten past nine he switched off His light and put His nose outside His bedroom door. There was no one about

He slipped along the passage and down the stairs. Out of the garden door he went, and into the hotel garden. In half a minute he was in the lane, and running up it with the shoe tucked under his coat.

At just before half-past nine he came to Mr. Smellie's house, and stopped outside the front gate. The house was quite dark. Fatty walked up and down outside for a moment or two to make quite certain that there was no one about.

He didn't see some one standing quite still by one of the big trees that lined the road. He walked down in front of the house once more, making up his mind to go into the drive - and then quite suddenly he felt a strong hand on his shoulder!

Poor Fatty almost jumped out of his skin. "Oooh!" he said, frightened, and the shoe dropped from beneath his coat!

"Ho!" said a voice that Fatty knew only too well. "Ho!" A torch was flashed into his face, and the voice said "Ho!" again, this time more loudly.

It was Clear-Orf s voice. He had been standing quietly beside the tree, and had been astonished to see Fatty come up the lane, and walk softly up and down in front of the house. Now he was even more astonished to find that it was "one of them children!" He bent down and picked up the shoe. He stared at it in the greatest astonishment.

"What's this?" he said.

"It looks like a shoe," said Fatty. "Let me go! You've no right to clutch me like that."

"What are you doing with this shoe?" asked Clear-Orf, in an astonished voice. "Where's the other?"

"I don't exactly know," said Fatty truthfully. The policeman shook him angrily.

"None of your cheek," he said. He turned the shoe upside down and saw the rubber-sole. At once the same thought flashed across his mind as had flashed across Daisy's when she had first seen it - the markings were like those on the footprint!

Mr. Goon stared at the shoe in amazement He flashed

his torch at Fatty again. "Where did you get this?"

he asked. "Whose is it?"

Fatty looked obstinate. "Some one found it and gave it to me," he said at last.

"I shall keep it for the time being," said Mr. Goon. "Now you just come-alonga-me for a minute."

But Fatty didn't mean to do that. With a sudden quick twist he was out of Clear-Orf s grasp and tearing up the lane as fast as he could go. He went right to the top, and then round and into the lane in which Larry's house stood. He slipped into Larry's drive when he came to it and made his way to the bottom of the garden, his heart beating loudly. He shinned up to the top of the wall and dropped down. He made his way cautiously to the back the house.

Then he hooted like an owl. "Oooo-oo! Oooo-ooo-ooo-OOOOO!"

In another moment poor Fatty almost jumped out of his skin again! Some one clutched his arm hard. He had been expecting an answering whistle or hoot from somewhere about, but he had not guessed that Larry was behind the bush that he himself was standing by.

"Oooh!" said Fatty, startled.

"Sh!" came Larry's voice in a whisper. "Have you got the shoe?"

"No," said Fatty, and explained quickly what had happened to it. Larry listened in dismay.

"You are an idiot!" he said. "Giving one of our best clues away to old Clear-Orf like that! He'll know we are after the same ideas as he is now!"

"The shoe wasn't a clue," argued Fatty. "It was a mistake. We thought it was a clue, but it wasn't. Anyway, Clear-Orf s got it, and I really couldn't help it He nearly got me too. I only just managed to twist away,"

"What shall we do?" asked Larry. "Shall we go in and hunt now? There's no light in the study. Old Mr. Smellie must have gone to bed."

"Yes, come on," said Fatty. "Where's the garden door?"

They soon found it, and to their great delight it was still unlocked. As there was a light from the kitchen, the two boys thought that Miss Miggle was still up. They decided to be very cautious indeed.

They slipped in at the door. Larry led the way to the study where he and Daisy had talked to Mr. Smellie that day. "You'd better stay on guard in the hall," he said. "Then if Miss Miggle or Mr. Smellie do happen to come along you can warn me at once. I shall open one of the windows of the study if I can do it without making a lot of noise - then I can slip out of it if any one thinks of walking into the room."

Larry went into the study. He had a torch with him, and he shone it round the untidy room. There were papers everywhere! Papers and books on the desk, papers and books on the floor and on the chairs. There were books in the bookcases that lined the wall, and books on the mantelpiece. It was quite plain that Mr. Smellie was a very learned man!

Larry began to hunt for the shoes he hoped to find. He pulled out a few books from each shelf in the bookcase and ran his hand behind. But there was nothing there. He looked under the piles of paper everywhere but he found no shoes.

Fatty was outside in the hall, keeping guard. He saw the hall-cupboard where Daisy had found the shoe, and he thought it would be a good idea to peep into it. Daisy might possibly have overlooked some shoes that might be the right one. He slipped into the cupboard.

He was so very busy turning up the shoes and boots in the cupboard that he didn't hear some one slipping a latchkey into the front door. He didn't hear some one coming into the hall and quietly closing the front door. So he had no time at all to warn poor Larry to escape! He only heard

Mr. Smellie when the old man walked into the study and switched on the light!

It was too late to do anything then, of course! Larry was caught with his head inside a cupboard, not knowing that any one was in the room until the light was suddenly switched on!

He took His head out of the cupboard in horror. He and Mr. Smellie stared at one another, Larry in fright, and Mr. Srnellie in anger and amazement.

"Robber!" said Mr. Smeffie angrily. "Thief! Wicked boy! I'll lock you up and telephone to the police!"

He pounced on Larry and took hold of him with a surprisingly strong hand. He shook the boy hard, and Larry gasped. "Please, sir," he began, "please, sir."

But Mr. Smellie was not going to listen to anything. His precious papers were all the world to him, and the sight of somebody rummaging through them filled him with such fury that he was unable to listen to a word. Shaking Larry hard, and muttering all sorts of terrible threats, he pushed the boy before him into the hall. Poor Fatty, overcome with shame at having failed to warn Larry, shivered in the hall cupboard outside, not daring to show himself.

"Bad, wicked boy!" he heard Mr. Smellie say as he pushed poor Larry up the stairs. Larry was protesting all the time, but Mr. Smeffie wouldn't listen to a word. "I'll fetch the police in. I'll hand you over!"

Fatty trembled. It was bad enough to be caught, but it was even worse to think that poor Larry might be handed over to that horrid old Clear-Orf. He heard Mr. Smeffie take Larry to a room upstairs and lock him in. Miss Miggle, amazed at the sudden noise, came rushing into the hall to see what the matter was.