carrying brushes about now—putting them back in their places. Loony, you’re dippy.”
He and Diana went in with the brush. Snubby went off to the summer-house with a book. But Great-uncle was there, smoking his pipe.
“Oh, sorry, sir,” said Snubby, and began hastily to retreat.
“Quite all right, my boy. Come along in,” said Great-uncle. “There’s plenty of room for two. I want to talk to you.”
Snubby never liked to hear that a grownup wanted to talk to him. It usually meant a ticking-off of some sort. He sat down with a sigh.
“About this gang of yours,” said Great-uncle in his rather pompous voice. “This—er—Green Hands Gang—wasn’t that what you called it? Have you heard anything more about them? Or was it possibly a little make-up of yours?”
Snubby considered. He didn’t really want to give up his lovely idea of a Green Hands Gang that wore green gloves. On the other hand, it wouldn’t do to work up Great-uncle about it, because he might be foolish enough to say something to Uncle Richard. Then the fat would be in the fire. Uncle Richard wouldn’t see that a silly pretend didn’t matter. He would call it a lie, and treat it as such. And Snubby wouldn’t be let off lightly.
“I think the gang have lost track of me,” said Snubby at last, deciding that would be the safest thing to say. “I haven’t heard a word from them since I’ve been here,” he added truthfully.
“Really?” said Great-uncle, eyeing Snubby in a way he didn’t much like. “Er—perhaps you think the gang have bigger fish to fry? Other things that are more important than you?”
Snubby blinked. Was Great-uncle getting at him? A sudden thought flashed into his mind and was out in words before he could stop it.
“Yes, I think you’re right, sir—and I think you’ll hear of their activities next at Ricklesham!”
“Ricklesham!” said Great-uncle, surprised. “Why Ricklesham?”
Snubby now wished he hadn’t spoken so quickly. He fidgeted uncomfortably on the wooden seat.
“Don’t know, sir. Just a hunch. You see, if you knew that gang as well as I do, you’d sort of know where they were going to—to—operate next.”
“Bless us all!” said Great-uncle, staring at Snubby. “I don’t know what to make of you. Talking of gangs and how they operate—and looking just a dirty, untidy boy with the most disgusting fingernails I ever saw.”
That was a nasty jab. Snubby took a hurried look at his nails. Everybody was always worrying him about them. Why couldn’t they mind their own business? He didn’t sneer at their clean nails—why should they sneer at his dirty ones? He got up.
“I’ll go and clean my nails, sir,” he said, pleased at having thought of such a good excuse to get away before Great-uncle asked more searching questions about the gang!
“A very good idea,” said Great-uncle. “And while you’re about it, wash behind your ears and see if you can possibly reach the back of your neck.”
Snubby fled. Nasty sarcastic old man! Snubby brushed his nails hard with the nail-brush and thought darkly that it would be rather nice to have a real gang to frighten people like Great-uncle.
Diana called to him from her room. “Snubby, is that you? Come here a minute.”
He went into Diana’s room. She and Roger were sitting on her bed with a map spread out between them.
“What’s that?” asked Snubby.
“It’s a map with Ricklesham on it,” said Diana. “We thought we might as well see exactly where it is in case we want to go over to the Fair. It’s about six miles off. We’ll take you with us next time if you behave yourself.”
“Gosh—look at Snubby’s nails! He’s cleaned them!” said Roger, astonished. “You turning over a new leaf, Snubby?”
“Shut up,” said Snubby, feeling quite ashamed of his spotless nails. “Great-uncle’s been on at me about them. I say—I said rather a silly thing to him.”
“Well, that’s nothing new,” said Roger. “What did you say this time?”
“He began asking me in a sneering sort of voice about the Green Hands Gang,” said Snubby. “And when I said I hadn’t heard a word from them, he said in a horrid scornful voice, ‘I suppose they’ve got bigger fish to fry!’ And I said yes—they might be operating next at Ricklesham.”
There was a moment’s silence. Diana and Roger stared at Snubby in dismay.
“Well! You’re a bigger idiot than I thought you were,” said Roger at last. “Suppose there is a robbery at Ricklesham, what’s Great-uncle going to think? That it is your silly Green Hands Gang, and you are mixed up in it. And he’ll most certainly split on you and tell Dad.”
“I know,” said poor Snubby, looking very downcast. “I thought of all that afterwards.”
“You’re crazy,” said Diana. “Here we are on the track of something exciting—and you go and blab about it to Great-uncle, and mix it up with your idiotic fairy tale.”
“Perhaps there won’t be a burglary at Ricklesham,” suggested Snubby hopefully. But that didn’t find favour with the others either.
“That’s right. Pour cold water on our ideas now,” said Diana. “Tell us we’re wrong. Make out it’s silly to... ”
“I’m not, Diana, I’m not!” cried poor Snubby, feeling that whatever he said would be wrong. “I’ll believe anything you tell me, really I will.”
“Shall we let him go with us if we go to Ricklesham, or not?” said Roger grimly to Diana.
“We’ll see,” said Diana. “Any more fat-headedness on his part, and we don’t tell him a thing.”
Snubby departed to find Loony, feeling very subdued. He fell over on the stairs, and Roger and Diana heard him rolling down, yelling.
They grinned. “That’s Sardine again,” said Diana. “She always lies in wait for Snubby on the stairs.”
“Do you really think there’ll be a burglary at Ricklesham?” asked Roger, folding up the map.
“Well—not really,” said Diana. “I did feel it was a sort of hunch, you know—but it’s a bit far-fetched, actually, isn’t it? I don’t suppose anything will happen there at all.”
“We’ll watch the papers,” said Roger. “And what a thrill it will be if we see Ricklesham in the news!”
CHAPTER 7
SNUBBY IN DIFFICULTIES
Three or four days went by. Each morning the three children took the paper after the grown-ups had finished with it, and pored over it.
But Ricklesham was never in the news. It was most disappointing. And then suddenly
