Free Mystery of the Missing Man by Enid Blyton

pardon me - but could you please put me on the right road to Peterswood?” said Mr. Tolling, politely. “I seem to have taken the wrong turning.” He gazed up at Goon in surprise. What a peculiar-looking person!
    Goon stared down at him most forbiddingly. Was that a scar under that moustache? “I’ll take you back on the right road myself,” said Goon. “We’ll, er - have a little conversation on the way.”
    “Oh, you don’t need to come with me,” said Mr. Tolling, feeling quite alarmed at Goon’s fierce gaze. “Just tell me the road to take.”
    “This way,” said Goon, almost as if he were taking someone off to prison. He actually took firm hold of Mr. Tolling’s arm. But Mr. Tolling shook it off angrily.
    “If you behave like this I shall give you in charge for molesting me!” he said. “You must be one of those awful fellows from the Fair.”
    “Here - that’s enough!” said Goon, annoyed. “All right - go by yourself if you want to! That’s the way, see?”
    Mr. Tolling went on by himself, turning round every now and again to see if Goon was following him. He was most annoyed to find that he was. Awful fellow with his silly red moustache and beard! Surely he didn’t mean to rob him!
    Goon kept quite close behind him, and Mr. Tolling hurried a little, trying to get rid of him. Goon hurried too. Fatty, who had kept well out of sight, grinned as he saw what was going on. Poor Mr. Tolling - he must be very fed up with Goon on his heels all the time. He decided to rescue him.
    He came out from behind a bush with Buster as Mr. Tolling passed, and hailed him. “Hallo, sir! What are you doing here? We thought you’d gone home.”
    “Oh - Frederick - I’m so pleased to see you,” said Mr. Tolling, delighted. “I took the wrong road. I asked that fellow behind there to tell me the way, and he was most unpleasant - most familiar too. I half thought he might be thinking of robbing me!”
    “Don’t worry about that,” said Fatty, comfortingly, and, to Goon’s amazement, he took hold of Mr. Tolling’s arm. Goon, of course, still had no idea that it was Mr. Tolling in front of him, and he could not imagine why Fatty appeared to be so friendly with him. Then a very worrying thought crossed his mind. Of course! Fatty must have the same idea as he, Goon, had - he probably thought that that fellow might be the man they were both looking for! The Chief Inspector must have told Fatty about him when he went to see him about that tramp.
    He followed them both, annoyed to see that Fatty was on apparently such friendly terms with the man. Was he questioning him - finding out all about him? Goon went a little closer, afraid that Fatty was finding out all that he, Goon, ought to know. Where were they going, anyhow? Would Fatty take the man right to where he was hiding, supposing that he was the escaped prisoner? That would be too good to be true - but Goon didn’t want that. He didn’t want Fatty interfering at all!
    To his enormous surprise Fatty turned down the road that led to his own home! He and the man now appeared to be the best of friends. Goon hurried right up to them, and joined them. Mr. Tolling looked at him with dislike.
    “What do you want, fellow?” he said. “Why are you trailing behind us like this? I shall give you in charge if you aren’t careful!”
    Fatty chuckled. Goon glared at him. “Where are you going?” he demanded.
    “Home,” said Fatty, looking mildly surprised. “Where are you going?”
    “Who is this man?” said Mr. Tolling, puzzled and exasperated. “I’m tired of him.”
    “So am I,” said Fatty, and took Mr. Tolling’s arm again. “Come on - we’re almost home.”
    Goon followed, frowning. Surely Fatty wasn’t going to take this fellow to his own home? Toad of a boy! Always leading him a dance!
    Fatty came to the front gate of his house and held it open politely for Mr. Tolling, who went through thankfully. Goon stared, astounded. What was all this?
    “You’ve a very short memory, Goon,” said Fatty, as he closed the