17 GOOD OLD GEORGE!

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN GOOD OLD GEORGE! A FAMILIAR voice came to the three boys' ears. 'Peter! Colin! Jack! Whatever are you doing in those cages?' 'Why, it's George! George, is it really you?' cried Peter, joyfully. 'And Scamper! Is Scamper hurt?' 'No. But what on earth has happened?' said George, in the greatest amazement, as he gazed at the boys in the cages. 'How did you get in here?' demanded Jack. 'I was never so surprised in all my life as when I heard your voice.' 'I knew you were coming here tonight,

because Janet told me,' explained George. 'And I thought I'd come too, even though I didn't belong to the Secret Seven any more. I thought I'd just watch. I saw you go down, and gosh! I did want to join you. I was hiding in that yard.' 'Well, I never!' said Peter. 'What made you come down into the cellars, then?' 'I waited ages for you to come back, and you didn't,' said George. 'And then I suddenly heard old Scamper whining like anything down in the hole. So I hopped out of my hiding-place and went down the ladder to him. That's all. But why are you in those cages? Can't you get out?' 'No,' groaned Peter. 'It's too long a story to tell you, George. You must go and get the police. Wait, though, look round first and see if that old man has hung the cage keys anywhere!' George flashed his torch here and there, and

gave a sudden exclamation. 'Yes, here are some keys, on this nail. I'll try them in the padlocks.' He tried first one and then another in the padlock on Peter's cage door, and there was a sudden click! 'Oh good!' said Peter, as the lock opened. He pushed open the cage door. Soon the others were out too. They were most relieved. 'Now quick, we'll get the police,' said Peter. 'Come on, Scamper, old thing. Fancy you going and whining to George like that! I suppose you knew he was hiding in that yard, though we didn't!' They hurried through the cellars, and came to the coal-hole. Up the rope-ladder they went. They pulled up the ladder and then picked their way through the yard, their hearts beating quickly. Scamper was very pleased with himself indeed. He felt that he had been a first-class member of the Secret Seven!

The four boys and the dog caused quite a sensation at the police station, arriving dirty and full of excitement. The police sergeant was there. He knew them, and was far more willing to listen to their extraordinary story than the old policemen would have been. They poured it out, and the sergeant called a most interested policeman to take down notes. The story went on and on, taken up first by one boy, then another. 'Stolen dogs– the coal- hole– the young man and the dog that vanished– the cellars below– the strange bald caretaker who looked after the dogs– yes, he's the man you've got a notice about outside the police station. The tall, stooping man– yes, he's got away. He's taken the dogs– in a car, he said.' 'I bet he's taken them in that car we saw the sick poodle in the other day!' said Peter, suddenly. 'I bet he has. Wait– I've got the number here. If you could find that car, sir,

you'd probably find all the dogs and that man too! Gosh! I can't find the bit of paper I wrote down the number on.' He fumbled anxiously in all his pockets but the paper was not there. 'Think of the number. Try hard!' urged the sergeant. 'This is important. If we get that number, we can send out details, and the car will be stopped in a few minutes, no matter where it is. Think.' 'I know the number,' groaned Peter. 'It was 188. But what were the letters?' 'I know! Pretty Sick Dog!' cried Jack, suddenly remembering. The sergeant looked astonished. 'Pretty Sick Dog?' he said. 'I don't follow.' 'PSD,' grinned Jack. 'The dog was sick, so we said the car letters must stand for Pretty Sick Dog– see? That's it– PSD 188.' 'Telephone that number to the patrol cars,' said the sergeant to the policeman. 'Quick now! We'll get him yet. My word, we've been

after these dog stealers for months. That fellow's a wonder at getting any dog to come to him, then he pops it into his car and away it goes. He hands it to somebody else, who passes it on again—' 'Yes, they go to the young man who lives at Starling's Hotel!' said Peter. 'We know he put a dog down the coal-hole to the old caretaker with the bald head and scar. You could get that young man too, Sergeant. He doesn't know about the happenings tonight! And you can get the caretaker as well. You've only to send men down the coal-hole into the cellar and up into the building above.' The sergeant stared at Peter in awe. 'I haven't time to ask you how you know all these remarkable things,' he said. 'Car numbers– young men at Starling's– stolen dogs and their hiding-place– wanted men– I just haven't time. I can't understand it.' 'Oh, well, we belong to the best Secret