Mystery of the Vanished Prince Read Free

that.”
    Bets crept away in shame. The telegraph boy stared after her, amazed. Larry, Pip, and Daisy laughed till they ached.
    “It’s all very well to laugh,” said Bets, dolefully. “I shall get into an awful row with Mother now. But honestly, it’s exactly like one of Fatty’s disguises.”
    “Well, of course, if you’re going to think every telegraph boy is Fatty, just because Fatty’s got a telegraph boy’s uniform, we’re in for a funny time,” said Pip. “Gosh, I wish old Fatty would come. It’s ages since he telephoned. The very next person must be Fatty!”
    It was! He came cycling up the drive, plump as ever, a broad grin on his good-humoured face, and Buster running valiantly beside the pedals!
    “Fatty! FATTY!” shrieked every one, and almost before he could fling his bicycle into the hedge, all four were on him. Buster capered round, mad with excitement, barking without stopping. Fatty was thumped on the shoulder by every one, and hugged by Bets, and dragged off into the garden.
    “Fatty - you’ve been ages coming!” said Bets. “We thought you’d be in disguise, and we watched and watched.”
    “And Bets made some simply frightful mistakes!” said Pip. “She’s just flung her arms round the telegraph boy! He was awfully startled.”
    “He still looked alarmed when I met him cycling out of the gate,” said Fatty, grinning at Bets. “He kept looking round as if he expected Bets to be after him with a few more hugs.”
    “Oh, Fatty - it’s fine to see you again,” said Bets, happily. “I don’t know how I could have thought any of those people here this morning were you - that awful gipsy woman - and the butcher boy - and the telegraph boy.”
    “We honestly thought you’d be in disguise,” said Larry. “Gosh - how brown you are - almost black. Any one would think you were a foreigner! You haven’t got any paint on, have you? I’ve never known you get burnt so brown.”
    “No - I’m just myself,” said Fatty, modestly. “No complexion powder, no paint, no false eyelashes, no nothing. I must say you’re all pretty brown yourselves.”
    “Woof,” said Buster, trying to get on to Bets’ knee.
    “He says he’s sunburnt too,” said Bets, who could always explain what Buster’s woofs meant. “But it doesn’t show on him. Darling Buster! We have missed you!”
    They all settled down to the iced lemonade that was left. Fatty grinned round. Then he made a surprising statement. “Well, Find-Outers - you’re not as smart as I thought you were! You’ve lost your cunning. You didn’t recognize me this morning when I came in disguise!”
    They all set down their glasses and stared at him blankly. In disguise? What did he mean?
    “What disguise? You’re not in disguise,” said Larry. “What’s the joke?”
    “No joke,” said Fatty, sipping his lemonade. “I came here in disguise this morning to test out my faithful troop of detectives - and you didn’t recognize your chief. Shame on you! I was a bit afraid of Bets, though.”
    Pip and Bets ran through the people who had appeared since breakfast that morning. “Mrs. Lacy - no, you weren’t her, Fatty. The postman - no, impossible. The man to mend the roof - no, he hadn’t a tooth in his head. That old gipsy-woman - no, she really was too tall, and anyway she ran like a hare when she thought I was going to fetch Daddy.”
    “The butcher boy - no,” said Larry.
    “And we know it wasn’t the telegraph boy, he had such a wizened face,” said Daisy. “You’re fooling us, Fatty. You haven’t been here before this morning. Go on - own up! ”
    “I’m not fooling,” said Fatty, taking another drink. “I say, this lemonade is super. I was here this morning - and I tell you, Bets was the only one I thought was going to see through me.”
    They all stared at him disbelievingly. “Well, who were you, then?” said Larry at last.
    “The gipsy woman!” said Fatty, with a grin. “I took you in properly, didn’t I?”
    “You weren’t,” said Daisy, disbelievingly. “You’re pulling our legs. If you’d seen her,