Mystery of the Vanished Prince by Enid Blyton

message?” asked Pip.
    “I rather thought he might,” said Fatty, who was feeling a little hurt because there had been no word at all from the Inspector. “I expect he’s still peeved with me. Well - I shan’t bother him till I’ve got something first-rate to tell him. Let Goon get on with his own ideas about this - we’ll get on with ours! At least I’ve passed on Sid’s information to him.”
    There was another silence. “It’s rather a peculiar mystery, really,” said Bets at last. “There doesn’t actually seem anywhere to begin. What do we do first?”
    “Well, as I see it, we had better follow up the definite clues we have,” said Fatty. “We must first of all find out about that woman - who she is. Get her address. Interview her. Try and frighten something out of her. If she is hiding the Prince, we must find out where. And why.”
    “Yes,” said Larry. “We must do all that. Hadn’t we better begin before Goon gets going? He’ll probably be working along the same lines as us.”
    “Yes. I suppose he will,” said Fatty, getting up. “This part is pretty obvious to any one - even to Mr. Goon! Well, let’s hope we don’t bump into him to-day. He’ll be annoyed if we do!”
    “Woof,” said Buster joyfully.
    “He says he hopes we do bump into him,” said Bets, hugging the little Scottie. “You love Mr. Goon’s ankles, don’t you, Buster? Nicest ankles in the world, aren’t they? Biteable and snappable and nippable.”
    Every one laughed. “You’re an idiot, Bets,” said Pip. “Are we going up to the camp, Fatty? We shall have to find out who lets out those caravans, and see if we can get the name and the address of the woman who was in the one with the twin-babies.”
    “Yes. That’s the first thing to do,” said Fatty. “Every one got bikes?”
    Every one had. Buster was put into Fatty’s basket, and off they all went, ringing their bells loudly at every corner, just in case Mr. Goon was coming round in the opposite direction!
    Ern, Sid and Perce were most delighted to see them. Fatty looked at Sid, but when he saw his jaws working rhythmically as usual, he snorted.
    “Not much good asking Sid anything,” he said. “We’ll only be able to get ‘ar’ out of him. Sid, if you get many more spots, you’ll be clapped into hospital and treated for measles!”
    Sid looked alarmed. Ern spoke tn him sternly. “Go and spit it out. You’re a disgrace to the Goon family.”
    “Ar,” said Sid, looking really pathetic.
    “He can’t spit it out,” said Perce. “It’s not the kind of toffee for that. Try some, Ern, and see.”
    “No thanks,” said Ern. “Well, count Sid out of this, Fatty. He’s hopeless.”
    “Yes - but he’s quite important,” said Fatty. “Well, he’ll just have to nod or shake his head, that’s all, when I ask him questions. Sid, come here. Stop chewing and listen. I’m going to ask you some questions. Nod your head for yes, and shake it for no. Understand?”
    “Ar,” said Sid, and nodded his head so violently that some of the toffee went down the wrong way and he choked.
    Ern thumped him on his back till his eyes almost fell out of his head. At last Sid was ready again, and listening.
    “Sid - do you know the woman’s name?” asked Fatty.
    “Ar,” said Sid and shook his head.
    “Did you ever see her speaking to the Prince?” asked Fatty.
    “Ar,” said Sid and shook his head again.
    “Don’t keep saying ‘ar’ like that,” said Fatty, aggravated. “It’s positively maddening. Just shake or nod, that’s all. Did you see where the woman went when she wheeled away the pram?”
    Sid shook his head dumbly.
    “Do you know ANYTHING about her except that she had twins and lived in that caravan?” asked Fatty, despairing of ever getting anything out of Sid at all. Sid’s head was well and truly shaken again.
    “A man in a lorry came to get the things out of the caravan,” volunteered Perce, unexpectedly.
    “What was the name on the lorry?” asked Fatty at once.
    “Wasn’t none,” said Perce.
    “Well, a fat lot of help you and Sid are,”