That week-end dragged along very slowly indeed. Tuesday was such a long time in coming! The only thing that enlivened it at all was that on the two or three occasions when the children met Mr. Goon, Fatty had his hooter tucked under his coat, and sounded it as soon as they passed the policeman. This made him jump, and he looked round in hope of seeing the cyclist who had once stopped and spoken to the old man. But he never did, of course. He hailed the children suspiciously the third time it happened.
"Did you hear that hooter?" he asked. They all nodded vigorously.
"Did you see a bike going by then?" said the policeman.
"A bike? All by itself with a hooter?" asked Pip, and the others grinned.
"Gab.!" said Mr. Goon, enranged as usual. "You clear-orf! I wouldn't put it past you to carry one of them hooters about, just to annoy me, like!”
"He's getting quite bright, isn't he?" said Larry, as they walked off. "I shouldn't be surprised if he does get promotion one of these days. He's really trying to use those brains of his a bit. We'd better not hoot any more when we pass him. He's quite likely to go and complain about us if we do—and ever since he went up to my house and asked for me the other day, Mother's been warning me not to get into trouble."
Fatty was preparing himself very earnestly for Tuesday night. He knew how important it was, and he also knew that, unless all his details were absolutely perfect, he might be in considerable danger.
He and the others spent a long time in the Waxworks, much to the surprise of the red-headed boy, for it was very hot in there, and not many people visited the little hall these blazing days.
But Fatty had to study the figure of Napoleon very carefully indeed. He meant to get into the hall somehow on Tuesday evening, and dress himself up in Napoleon's clothes. Would they fit him? He asked Daisy what she thought.
"Yes, I should think they'd fit you very well," she said, considering first Napoleon and then Fatty. "You had better take a few safety-pins in case something doesn't quite meet. The hat will be fine—just your size, I should think. What about hair, Fatty?"
"I can manage that all right," said Fatty. "I rather think my own will do, if I smarm it down a bit, and pull a few pieces out in front, like old Napoleon has got. An er—I don't know what you think—but—er—I'm not really unlike Napoleon in features, am I?"
The others stared at him. "Well," said Pip honestly, "I can't see any likeness at all. Not the slightest."
"Except that you're both fat," said Daisy.
"Do you want to look like Napoleon?" said Bets in surprise. "I don't think he looks very nice, really. And I don't like those men that go about thinking they want to conquer the whole world. Napoleon must have been very brainy, of course, and you're brainy, Fatty. But, except that you're fat and brainy, I don't see that you're very like Napoleon."
Fatty gave it up. He stared once more at the figure of Napoleon, in its grand uniform, cocked hat, medals, epaulettes, and stars. It was a fine uniform and Fatty was longing to get into it. Well, he hadn't got long to wait now.
He tried to memorize exactly at what angle Napoleon wore his hat, exactly how he held his hands, exactly how he stared so blankly in front of him. Napoleon fortunately stood in the very front row of figures, so Fatty, as Napoleon, would be able to hear and see everything very well indeed. A little shiver went down his back when he thought of standing there, perfectly still, listening to the plans of the gang, and memorizing their appearance.
It was a very bold idea indeed. Not one of the other Find-Outers would have dared to do it. But Fatty, of course, would dare anything. Bets thought that he wouldn't even turn a hair if he met a roaring lion, the kind she met in her bad dreams, and which scared her terribly. Fatty would (probably speak to it kindly and pat it, and the lion would lie down and roll over for Fatty to tickle it on its tummy—like Buster did!
The red-headed boy, curious at their sudden intense interest in Napoleon, came over and joined them.
"What's exciting about Wm?" he said. "Who is he? Oh—Napoleon. What was he? Some sort of soldier? "
"Don't you know?” said Bets, in astonishment. "Didn't you learn history at school?"
"I've never been to school," said the red-headed boy. "I belong to the Fair, and us kids hardly ever go to school unless we have to. We move about from place to place, you see, and before we're popped into some school, we've moved on again. I can read, but I can't write."
"Why are you in the Waxwork Show?" asked Fatty. "Does this hall belong to the Fair people?"
"Oh no—they've only hired it," said the boy. "The Waxworks belong to my uncle. He's the fellow that runs the Hoopla. I used to help him with that, but now I have to do the Waxworks, and it's jolly dull."
Fatty wondered if any of the Fair people were in the gang of thieves. It seemed very likely. Well, he would know on Tuesday night.
The children went and studied other figures carefully too, so that the red-headed boy wouldn't get suspicious about their sudden interest in Napoleon. They had a good look at the wax figure of the policeman as well. He really did look a bit like Mr. Goon! There he stood, on the second step, not far from Napoleon, his helmet on perfectly straight, the strap round the chin, and the belt a little tight.
The red-headed boy disappeared out-of-doors for a minute. Fatty at once went back to Napoleon and studied the clothes well, to make sure that he could take them off the wax figure fairly easily.
"Hope they're not stuck on in any way," he said to the others anxiously. Daisy pulled at them.
"Oh no," she said. "They are put on just like ours—and look, the trousers are held by braces. You'll be all right, Fatty. But you'll have to be here long before nine, or you'll never have time to undress yourself and Napoleon and then dress yourself up again."
"I wish you wouldn't, really, Fatty," said Bets, looking up at him with scared eyes. "I shall hate to think of you standing so near the gang—whatever would they do to you if they discovered you? "
"They won't," said Fatty. "I shan't give myself away, you may be sure of that. I've already been practising standing still for ages, in my bedroom, in exactly that position. Buster simply can't understand it. He does all he can to make me move!"
The others laughed. They could quite well picture Fatty standing solemnly in his room, perfectly still, with a most astonished Buster trying in vain to get a movement or a sound out of him!
"Come on—let's go now," said Fatty. "It's most frightfully hot in here. Hallo—there's Goon—and in uniform again! He looks better in uniform than in plain clothes, I must say. Not that he's much to look at in either!"
Mr. Goon was standing just outside the Waxworks Hall, apparently about to go in. He scowled when he saw the children. Funny how those kids always seemed to turn up everywhere!
"What are you doing here?" he asked, in a suspicious voice.
"Passing the time away, Mr. Goon, just passing the time," said Fatty airily. "What are you doing here? Is your holiday over? You must miss your little trips to the sweet-shop."
Buster was on the lead, or he would certainly have darted at his enemy. But Fatty, seeing the black look on Mr. Goon's face, hastily dragged him away.
"Wonder what he's done with that grocery list!" said Daisy, with a giggle. "Put it with his Clues, I expect. Well, we know more about that than he does!"
Bets wanted to go down by the river, so the others went, too, meaning to walk home by the river-path. Bets stared hard at every one in boats, and Pip noticed her.
"Why ever are you glaring at every one who's in a boat? "he asked.
"I'm not glaring," said Bets. "I'm just looking to see if I can spot anyone with odd eyes, that's all. I did see the odd-eyed man in a boat, you know, when that punt knocked against me—and I might quite well see him again."
"What would you do if you did?" demanded Pip. "Jump in and arrest him? "
"It's quite a good idea of Bets," said Fatty, always quick to defend the little girl. "After all, if the man was here, he might be again. And if we saw him on the river we could get the name of the boat, and, if it was privately owned, we could find out the name of the owner."
"The only thing is—people go by so quickly that it's difficult to see if their eyes are odd or not," said Bets.
"I say, Fatty, how are you going to get your face all pink like Napoleon's?" asked Larry looking at Fatty's very brown face.
"Easy," said Fatty. "I shall put a little layer of pink wax all over my face and let it set. I know how to do it. It's in a book I've got."
Fatty had the most extraordinary collection of books. He seemed to be able to find out from them anything he wanted.
"You'll have to do that before you set out, won't you?" said Daisy. Fatty nodded.
"Yes. Larry will have to go with me if the night isn't dark enough to hide me, and warn me if any one is coming who might be likely to spot me. But now that there's no moon, I ought not to be noticed much in the twilight."
"I do want Tuesday to come!" said Bets. "I really can hardly wait! I wish I was going to see you all dressed up as Napoleon, Fatty. You'll look simply grand. Oh, Tuesday, hurry up and come!"