"Well, here we all are again," said Daisy, stretching lazily on the grass in her garden. The sun beat down, warming their skin. "The Spring holidays."

Pip, Bets, Larry and Daisy had just met Fatty off his train, and it was the start of three weeks of no school. They were all looking forward to walks and picnics in the lovely weather that was particularly warm for this time of year. But even so, none of them could forget that they were the Five Find-Outers and Dog, and they had been away from each other all term. They all really wished that they could get straight into an interesting mystery.

"Come on Fatty, find us a mystery to solve!" said Pip. "I have been looking forward to one all term."

"I can't go looking for one," laughed Fatty, scratching his dog Buster's tummy. "They just happen."

"Yes, but they always seem to happen when you are around," said Bets. "Perhaps if you walk around lots it will give plenty of opportunity for a mystery to appear!"

"Give me a chance, then!" said Fatty. "I've only just got back. How about ice creams? My treat, mother gave me some money to welcome me home."

"Oh yes please!" said Daisy. "Just what I feel like."

They hurried off to the shop, and each ate a double ice-cream. Then they passed a lazy afternoon beside the river, making small boats of leaves and racing them from the bank. Soon it was time to return to tea, and they all went to their own houses. After tea, they met again, this time in Fatty's shed.

"Any new disguises?" asked Larry. Fatty was a master of disguises and could turn himself into anything from an errand boy to an old tramp or a gypsy woman. He was slowly building up a vast collection of props and wigs that he kept hidden in his shed. He wasn't sure his mother would approve.

"Not anything much," said Fatty. "I have got quite a number of things now. But I did get this new wig, look." He held up a black, curly haired wig. "It makes me look quite different."

"Oh put it on, Fatty, please!" begged Bets.

"All right," he said with a grin, and he turned his head away and slipped on the wig. When he looked back at them, his face was screwed up into a goofy expression. They shouted with laughter.

"That's great Fatty!" Pip said. "It always amazes me how you can look so different. If we put that on we would look like we were just wearing a silly wig."

"Can I try it on, Fatty?" asked Bets eagerly.

"No," said Fatty, putting it away in a box. "It's brand new. I want to save it for my next disguise opportunity."

"I hope we get one this holiday," Larry said, a little gloomily.

"We're only on the first day," said Fatty. "Don't give up hope yet."

They played a game of cards, for the clouds had come over and it wasn't so warm outside now. Pip looked at his watch, then out of the window. "It's getting late, and starting to get dark," he said. "We'd better go. Come on Bets. We'll see you tomorrow everyone." Larry and Daisy got up to leave too, and they all patted Buster goodbye and headed home. The four parted at the end of Larry and Daisy's road, and Pip and Bets carried on to their house, hurrying now because it was cold.

"Hey, look, isn't that Mr Goon ahead?" suddenly said Bets.

Pip looked up. "Yes," he said thoughtfully. They were gaining on him quickly because they were hurrying, and Mr Goon was walking much more slowly, deep in conversation with the man beside him.

Pip held his finger to his lips, and Bets nodded. They fell into hearing distance behind Mr Goon and his companion.

"Just along here, you say?" asked Mr Goon, in the pompous important voice he used when he was Upholding The Law.

"Yes, I was by Cedar Field," said the man beside him. Pip thought he recognised him as Mr Harris, who lived near to the Hilton's.

"And what happened exactly?" Goon asked. "I'm finding it hard to understand."

"Well, I was walking along, and I noticed a movement to my right," said Mr Harris. "And I looked up, and I saw a flying saucer! I tell you, it was a flying saucer, over the field. Now I couldn't believe my eyes, so I don't say you don't believe what I'm saying. But I definitely saw it. And…" he faltered.

"Yes?" said Mr Goon. "And then?"

"I… I'm not sure," said Mr Harris. "You see-"

"This is our road," whispered Bets.

"Shh!" said Pip angrily. "You made me miss what he said!" They continued walking after Mr Goon and Mr Harris, who suddenly stopped beside a hedge on the lane that ran alongside Cedar Field. Pip pulled Bets and himself behind a tree on the opposite side of the lane.

"…and then I found all my money was gone!" said Mr Harris. "And that's all I know."

"Well," said Mr Goon, searching for something intelligent to say, but failing to come up with anything. "This certainly is a mystery. I'll look into it, Mr Harris. I will be round to ask you more questions tomorrow I expect."

"Thank you Mr Goon," Mr Harris said. "I'm rather worried about this. It confuses me - I don't know what happened you see."

"Come on," Pip whispered to Bets. "We'd better go before they see us."

Pip and Bets ran softly all the way to their road.

"It's a mystery!" said Bets, her eyes shining. "We've found one already!"

"Yes, but you made me miss important information," said Pip crossly. "As if we were going to stop tailing them and go home when we were finding out information like that."

"I'm sure Fatty will be able to find out anything we missed," said Bets quietly.

"Huh!" said Pip. He wanted to be able to tell the entire story. Fatty always found out so much, and Pip was pleased that he had discovered this mystery. But it was aggravating that they had missed an important part of the conversation.

"Flying saucers!" Pip said, forgetting him annoyance as he remembered what Mr Harris had said. "Wow! I've always wanted to see one. I wonder what it looked like. We must meet Fatty early tomorrow and get started on this. Goon's got quite a head start on this."

Breakfast the next morning seemed to take forever. Pip had called Fatty and Larry and arranged to meet in Fatty's shed after breakfast, but his mother and father were insisting on asking him and Bets countless questions about their last term at school.

"You look impatient, Phillip," said his mother eventually.

"We're having a meeting at Fatty's," Pip said. "I don't want to be late."

"You have the whole holidays to see your friends," said Mrs Hilton. "But clear your plates and you may go."

"Thanks!" said Pip and he and Bets put their coats on and hurried out of the house to Fatty's. Larry and Daisy were already there, and had made themselves comfortable in the shed.

"Well?" asked Fatty. "You said you had something to tell us."

"We do," said Pip, his eyes shining. "I really think it might be a mystery. But I don't know all that much." He shot a look at Bets, and told Fatty and the others what they had overheard.

"So Mr Harris saw a flying saucer, then something happened which you missed, and then Mr Harris realised all his money was gone?" asked Fatty at the end.

"It was Bets's fault," said Pip.

"I'm sorry, Fatty," Bets said humbly.

"Don't worry," said Fatty, giving her a smile. "We can easily find out what fully happened. I think I need to go and have a chat with Mr Harris."

"He'll think it a bit odd if we just go up to him and ask him about flying saucers," said Larry.

"Yes, I know," said Fatty. "I'll have to find an excuse to talk about them." He thought for a minute. "I know! I can dress up as an old man, and say that my hobby now I've retired is flying saucers, and I'm going to write a book, and I am going round asking people to tell me their experiences!"

"That's a great idea, Fatty," said Bets, marvelling at him. "Are you going to go now?"

"Yes, I think so," said Fatty. "After all, Mr Goon will be well on his way on this case. If it does turn out to be a proper mystery, I expect he will have picked up any clues that are lying about already. You can all wait here for me and play cards or something. I'll be as quick as I can."

They watched, interested, as Fatty donned a disguise. He wore slightly faded but still smart clothes, so that he looked presentable. Then he put on a grey wig, eyebrows and gave himself a moustache. To complete his disguise he added some wrinkles to his face, and a smart hat. Then he picked up his notebook, raised his hat to the other Find-Outers and opened the shed door. "Better keep Buster here in case I run into old Goon," he said, but his voice wasn't like Fatty's at all; he sounded just like an old man, and the others laughed to hear it.

"Good luck!" called Daisy, and then he was gone.

Fatty made his way quickly to Mr Harris's house. He hoped that Mr Goon wouldn't be there when he called, as he might find it too much of a coincidence that a man should call inquiring about flying saucers the morning after he started on the case. Luckily, his bicycle wasn't outside, and Fatty opened the gate and went up the path.

Mr Harris was a cheerful and friendly man, Fatty noticed thankfully, when he opened the door and gave Fatty a big welcoming smile. Fatty gave his spiel about researching for a book on flying saucers and Mr Harris was very interested. "It's a funny thing you should come today," he said.

"Come in and let me tell you."

Fatty entered and Mr Harris made him a cup of tea. They sat in the front room.

"It was only last night," Mr Harris began. He seemed quite willing to talk. Perhaps he thought that Fatty, as a potential expert, might shed some light on his experience. "I was walking along by Cedar Field, and I suddenly noticed these lights up in the sky. And I tell you, it was a flying saucer. Not a thing else it could have been."

"It couldn't have been an aeroplane?" asked Fatty, in his old man's voice. "I don't doubt you, sir, but a lot of people think they see a flying saucer when it's just a plane up high."

"No chance," said Mr Harris, shaking his head. "This thing was low over the field, about the height of the trees on the right hand side. And only about two hundred yards from where I was standing. There was a low buzzing noise. And I stood looking at this flying saucer. Next thing I knew, I was lying face down in the grass! And I looked at my watch, and about quarter of an hour had passed, and I don't remember a thing."

"That has been known to happen in UFO cases," said Fatty, who had read this in a book somewhere. He was rather sceptical of flying saucers himself, however.

"Yes, well, what made me call up Mr Goon was discovering my money was missing. All of it, from my wallet. You know what I think?" Mr Harris leaned forward and spoke in a loud whisper. "I think the aliens took it!"

"It certainly looks that way," said Fatty, who didn't think anything of the sort. "Could you describe the flying saucer to me?"

"Of course. It had a dark green body, and flashing lights around it, all different colours."

"Are you sure you weren't knocked out by someone, who took your money?" suggested Fatty, tentatively, as he didn't want to offend Mr Harris by implying he didn't believe him.

"No, I don't believe that could be so," Mr Harris mused. "You see, I didn't have any bruises anywhere on my person. And I would have, if someone had hit me hard enough to knock me out for fifteen minutes." He looked a bit uncomfortable. "I've heard aliens do experiments on people," he said.

"I wouldn't worry about anything like that," Fatty told him. "Thank you for you time sir. I must be going." And once he was out of sight of Mr Harris's house he rushed back to the shed to tell the others all he knew.

"Gosh," said Daisy. "Gosh."

"You don't think that it was a flying saucer though, do you?" asked Larry.

"No," said Fatty. "Even if I did believe in aliens, why would they take his money? I think it's some kind of elaborate trick. Either that, or Mr Harris just imagined a flying saucer, and did just see a plane, and he was robbed in a completely unconnected incident."

"So no flying saucers then," said Pip, feeling a little disappointed.

"Most likely not, Pip," laughed Fatty. "But what on earth could make Mr Harris lose fifteen minutes of his time, if he wasn't knocked out?"

"We should go and look for clues!" said Bets, who loved hunting for clues.

"I agree," said Fatty. "Though Goon should have picked up any, we might as well have a look, and get an idea of what the scene of the crime looks like!"

They set off along to Cedar Field. Pip and Bets led the way to the exact spot where Mr Harris had led Mr Goon the previous night. They set about looking for anything that might be useful.

"There's no footprints here at all," said Pip, feeling discouraged. "The ground's too hard. There's just some general scuffing marks, but I can't tell anything from them."

"Hey, look here!" said Larry. He held up a white piece of paper. "I found this amongst the grass there. It's a receipt." He looked at it. "From the Chemist's in Marlow."

"That could have blown in from anywhere," said Daisy.

"Yes, but it could be a clue," said Fatty, "and as it's all we have at the moment we might as well look into it."

"It was raining the night before last, after we got home from school," said Bets suddenly. "And the ink on that receipt hasn't run, so it was probably dropped recently."

"Good work Bets!" said Fatty, pleased. "That's good detectoring. Well done. I'm going to look in the field. Keep looking here." He set off along the lane until he came to the gate into the field, and he climbed over. He was soon back.

"Couldn't see anything," he shrugged, in answer to their inquiring stares. "Come on, let's get out of here before Clear-Orf turns up."

They headed back to the shed, feeling rather unsuccessful.

"Goon's probably got mountains of clues," said Pip gloomily.

"Don't bet on it," said Fatty. The Find-Outers didn't have a lot of regard for Goon's abilities as a policeman. "But we ought to find out, I suppose. No point in racking our brains over our one clue if Goon holds one that tells us the answer. Perhaps I can try out another of my disguises."

"Oh yes Fatty, do!" cried Daisy. The others agreed. They loved to see Fatty's disguises, especially when he used them on Mr Goon.

"Let's look at our clue first, if it is even a clue," said Fatty. Larry handed him the receipt. "Right, it's for an item that cost that much. But it's only a simple receipt, and it doesn't say what the item was."

"So we have to go to the Chemist's and find out what costs the same amount," said Larry. "And see if the chemist remembers the person who bought it."

"Spot on! You're coming along, Find-Outers!" said Fatty. He checked his watch. "But there's no time to cycle all the way to Marlow before lunch. We'll do that after. Now, what would be the best disguise to use on Goon?"

"An errand boy?" suggested Daisy.

"No, I don't think Goon would share information with a boy," said Fatty. "I think I'll have to be an old man again, and be full of respect for Mr Goon! Then he might be more inclined to share information with me."

The others helped him once again to don his disguise. Fatty made himself older this time, and practised stooping a little as he walked. He spoke in a wheezy voice. "Wish me luck!" Buster was most put out that he had to stay behind again, but he would be too much of a giveaway to old Goon. Bets made a fuss of him as Fatty set off down the path.

He was in luck. He bumped into Goon at the end of his road, riding his bicycle around the corner. "I say!" Fatty called after the policeman.

Mr Goon stopped and got off his bike. "Can I help you?" he asked pompously.

"I've heard there's aliens stealing all our money!" wheezed Fatty, getting straight to the point. "I don't like it, I tell you I don't! I want to know what the police are doing to stop all this."

"Well sir, don't worry yourself. I am on to the case and I am sure to have solved it very soon," Mr Goon said proudly.

"What's that you say?" Fatty said. "How will you do that then? How will you catch aliens?"

"Oh, I don't think there's aliens," Mr Goon said, with a snort. "Just an ordinary crime. How did you hear about this, anyway?" he asked suspiciously.

"Oh, word gets around," Fatty said hastily. "Things like aliens, you can't keep that quiet. I expect you've got lots of clues then, if you are so confident you can solve this mystery so quickly."

"I've gathered clues, certainly," said Mr Goon, looking smug.

"What are they?" asked Fatty. "Maybe I can shed some light on them, help you out. I'm worried of losing me money meself," he added quickly, as Mr Goon looked sharply at him.

"As I said, don't worry, it's all in hand," said Mr Goon. "No disrespect, sir, but if I so much as say what my clues are aloud those pesky kids will hear somehow and start interfering. I got to keep them to myself. Now if you'll excuse me, I must get on with my duties." He went to mount his bike.

Fatty couldn't resist a dig. "I've heard those kids are better than you at solving mysteries," he said. "Perhaps you should tell them your ideas and it may help catch the culprit sooner."

Mr Goon was most annoyed to hear the Find-Outers being praised this way. "Gah!" he spat, and set off, his bike wobbling with his rage.

Fatty sighed, and headed back to the shed, where the others were waiting.

"That was quick," said Bets, looking up in surprise.

"I didn't find out much," said Fatty, starting to remove his disguise. "Nothing of any use, in fact. Goon claims to have clues, but he always exaggerates anyway. Most likely he's only got a couple, if that. But short of breaking into his house to find them, I'm not sure what we can do. And I'm not going to do that," he added.

The others didn't feel too downhearted. "It's almost lunchtime," said Daisy. "But shall we meet here afterwards with our bikes? We've still got our receipt clue to follow up."

"Yes, let's," said Fatty, brightening a little. "And if it turns into nothing, we can always tail Goon and see what he's on to."

"Ooh yes!" said Pip, liking the thought of that. "Right, will see you shortly."

"Ask your mothers if you can have tea at Marlow!" Fatty called after them. "Come on Buster, lunch time!"

After lunch they gathered eagerly outside Fatty's gate with their bicycles. Fatty made sure he had the receipt safely tucked into his pocket, then he sat Buster in the basket of his bicycle and they set off to Marlow. It was a glorious afternoon again and they enjoyed the ride immensely.

"Right," said Fatty, dismounting his bicycle outside the Chemist's. "Let's go and ask about what this thing could be, that was bought."

They trooped inside. A bell rang as they entered and a lady appeared behind the counter. "Hello," Fatty said politely as he approached. "We were wondering if you could tell us what this could be, that cost this much?" He showed the receipt.

The lady looked at Fatty curiously, and took the receipt from him. "Well, I couldn't say," she said. "It could be a number of things. There's a hairdryer that's that price, I know that much. But probably a number of other things as well."

Fatty exchanged glances with the others. A hairdryer? That didn't fit in with anything. They hoped that this wasn't just litter after all.

"Whatever do you want to know that for?" asked the lady.

"Oh, just wondering," said Fatty, unable to think up a suitable reason. "We'll have a look around, thank you." He spoke quietly to the others. "See if you can find items that cost the right amount." They nodded and spread out around the shop.

Fatty turned back to the lady at the counter. "It was bought three days ago," he said, examining the date on the receipt. "Do you know who came in the shop that day?"

"Honestly!" said the lady. "We get many customers in here every day, some regulars and locals but a lot of strangers as well. I couldn't possibly list every one of them. If you don't want to buy anything, please leave."

The bell over the door rang again as a customer entered, and Fatty decided to leave it. He went over to the others. "Find anything?" he asked hopefully.

"Not really," said Daisy. "Just ordinary items. I think it wasn't a clue after all."

"What about this?" asked Larry. He pointed to a jar of clear liquid on a high shelf. "Meth… meth… gosh I can't read that word. Write it down, Fatty."

Fatty took out his notebook and copied down the long name: methyltrichloride.

He caught the eye of the lady at the counter. "I don't suppose you remember who bought some of this, do you?" he asked.

The lady looked cross. "Stop wasting my time. Clear off!"

They left the shop hurriedly. "She was acting like Goon," said Fatty. "She wasn't in a very good mood, was she?"

They went to the teashop and ordered ice creams and lemonade. Fatty opened his notebook and they examined the long name. "It looks like the name of a chemical," said Fatty.

"My father's into chemistry," said Larry. "He's got some books at home. I could try looking the word up in those."

"Good idea," said Fatty. He copied the word down for Larry and handed him the bit of paper. "If that doesn't turn up anything, I vote we abandon this as a clue. Like Daisy said at the start, it could just be rubbish. But we have to check these things." He sighed. "You know, we haven't any more to go on. Maybe we should abandon the whole mystery. Probably Mr Harris was just imagining things."

The others felt similarly downhearted. There didn't seem to be a lot else they could do.

They finished their ice creams and cycled back to Peterswood. "Phew, I'm hot," Fatty said, dismounting outside his house. "I'll go and ask for some iced drinks. Pip, here's the key, you go and unlock the shed."

Soon they had all quenched their thirst, and they spent the rest of the afternoon playing games in Fatty's shed. All too soon it was time to leave. "Shall we meet at yours tomorrow, Larry?" Fatty suggested. "Don't forget to look in your father's books."

"Course not!" said Larry. "Okay, see you then."

The four left and set off home. Pip and Bets said goodbye to Larry and Daisy and continued to their house. "Gosh!" said Pip, putting his hand in his pocket for his handkerchief. "I've got Fatty's shed key in here still, from when I unlocked the shed earlier. I'd better rush back with it. See you in a minute, Bets."

Pip jumped back on his bicycle and hurried back the way he had come. At the end of the road he looked right to check for traffic, and nearly fell off his bike in shock. In the distance, away over the field, was a flying saucer! It hovered there, the bulk of it hard to determine against the darkening sky, but the flashing coloured lights on it stood out well. "It's happening again!" Pip thought. He cycled furiously to Fatty's, and found him and Buster still in the shed, searching everywhere for the key. "Hi Pip," Fatty said. "What's wrong?" he asked quickly, seeing the look on Pip's face.

"Quick! Come quick Fatty!" Pip gasped, out of breath. "It's the flying saucer, I've seen it!" Fatty didn't wait to ask any questions. He tore out of the shed, grabbing his bicycle on the way. Buster felt the excitement and barked excitedly. The two boys pedalled furiously down to Cedar Field, looking at the sky all the way.

There was no sign of the flying saucer. "It's gone," said Pip in dismay, as they braked to a halt near the gate into the field.

"Over there!" said Fatty, pointing. They wheeled their bikes over to where a lady was lying in the grass. She seemed to be asleep. "Gosh, it's Mrs Kitchener," said Fatty. "She lives a few doors away from me."

"Do you think she's alright?" asked Pip anxiously. "Perhaps we should send for the doctor."

"Yes," Fatty said. "How long has it been since you saw the flying saucer, Pip?"

"I don't know, about ten, fifteen minutes?" Pip said with a shrug. Just then Mrs Kitchener started to stir. She was quite an elderly lady and looked quite frightened as she opened her eyes.

"What's going on?" she said shakily.

"What do you remember?" asked Fatty, not wanting to put ideas into her head.

"Aliens!" she said with a small gasp. "Oh, I saw a flying saucer. And then…" her voice trailed off. "I… I don't remember, until now."

"Were you carrying any money, Mrs Kitchener?" Fatty asked.

"Why yes." She checked her bag. "It's all gone!" she shrieked. "I had just been to the bank and got money out for my groceries tomorrow. It's missing!"

"I think she's okay," Fatty said in a low voice to Pip. "Perhaps you can take her home, and better call Goon. I'll have a snoop round here, and see if there are any clues."

"Okay. See you in the morning, I expect," Pip said. "I'd better hurry home after this." Pip helped Mrs Kitchener to stand up and they set off towards her house. Fatty had a quick look around where she had been lying, but didn't see anything. Then he climbed over the gate into the field. He was hoping to find another clue that might help them solve this mystery. It certainly didn't look now like the flying saucer was an event unrelated to the missing money, as he had been beginning to think. And a second occurrence meant that the mystery was still well and truly open. If he could just find another clue that they could work on.

Fatty was in luck. He walked to the approximate spot where the flying saucer may have been hovering. On the ground he saw a piece of green rubber. He picked it up. After searching for a few minutes and finding nothing else, he was going to head home, when he decided instead to look under the trees that grew on one side of the field. "Ho!" he exclaimed. "Interesting! Buster, mind out, don't go messing up my lovely footprints." He took out his notebook and made a sketch of the clearest one. "Looks like only one person, but they were standing in this one spot for a while, shifting about. The prints all overlap." Satisfied with his finds, he set off home.

The next morning, they all hurried to the Daykins's, with lots of news to share, and eager to hear what every one else had to tell.

Pip started the discussion, explaining to the others how he had seen the saucer and went to get Fatty, and how they had found Mrs Kitchener on the ground. He had taken her home and duly phoned Mr Goon, who when he arrived wasn't best pleased to see Pip there, but there wasn't much he could do about it. "He muttered something about how we must be psychic to always get to people before him," Pip said. "But before he got there, I took the opportunity to ask Mrs Kitchener some questions."

Fatty nodded his approval.

"She didn't have much more to tell. Her story fairly matched Mr Harris's. Only just before the period of her lost memories-"

"-which we know she spent mysteriously asleep-" interjected Fatty.

"-she thinks she saw the flying saucer drop from the sky, or just disappear. She's a bit confused over which," Pip finished.

"I think I can explain that," Fatty said. "You saw the flying saucer, Pip. What colour was it?"

"Well, it was getting dark, so it was all a bit hard to tell," Pip said. "But I think it was dark green. And it had lots of different coloured flashing lights on it too, like Mr Harris described."

Fatty held up the piece of green rubber he had found in the field. "Look at this. A colour match? I expect so."

"What is it?" asked Bets.

"It's a balloon," realised Daisy. "A burst one."

"Yes," Fatty said. "I think, though I'm only guessing, that someone has made a model of a flying saucer, partly out of a balloon. But the balloon popped, which is why the flying saucer fell from the sky as Mrs Kitchener described."

The others thought about this. Yes, it made sense. Fatty also showed them the drawing of the footprint he had found.

Larry was dying to reveal his news. "I can explain another bit!" he burst out.

Everyone looked at him expectantly.

"You remember that word, from the bottle in the chemist?" he said. "Methyltrichloride. Well, I looked it up in one of father's textbooks. It's the chemical name for chloroform. And I looked that up in the encyclopaedia, and it used to be used as an anaesthetic, though now it's used by farmers for pesticides and other industrial uses. Apparently it works almost instantly."

"Well done Larry!" said Fatty. "Chloroform… an anaesthetic… something that puts people to sleep! So it was used when they had to operate on people. I think I've seen it in a film. You pour a bit on a cloth and hold it over someone's mouth, and they are forced to breathe it in and they fall asleep!"

"Gosh, what a horrible thing to do!" said Bets.

"Yes, isn't it!" said Daisy. "Presumably this is what someone is doing - sending people to sleep and then stealing their money! But where does the flying saucer come into all this?"

"I think this must be done by two people," said Fatty. "Someone controls a model of a flying saucer somehow. This distracts people, and while they are looking at the UFO the second person can creep up unnoticed on the victim and put a cloth over their mouth. They fall asleep so quickly they don't remember feeling the cloth."

"It all fits," said Pip. "We just need to find out who's doing it. We're no nearer to finding that out at all."

"Yes, we don't have a single suspect," sighed Bets.

"Oh yes, but don't despair Find-Outers, because we have two new clues," Fatty said, holding them up with a flair. "Now, we can't go round looking at everyone's shoes, but perhaps if we can go to the shop and ask kindly Mrs Roberts there who has been buying dark green balloons, we may be able to get ourselves a list of suspects!"

"Oh, you are so clever Fatty!" squealed Bets. "I wouldn't have thought of that!"

"You would have, given enough time," Fatty said. "You are coming along well, all of you. You're turning up good ideas. We'll crack this. Mr Goon probably hasn't worked out a thing yet." They set off eagerly to the shop. Fatty was left to do the talking, as he always knew what best to ask, and could put on such a polite voice when talking to adults.

He approached the counter and enquired about the balloons.

"Hmm, it's not a particularly popular colour," said Mrs Roberts, thinking. "I have sold a fair few recently, though. Let me see. Mrs Dale bought quite a few for her son's party - I think she said he was having a jungle theme, and she was going to make trees out of them."

That sounded like an ordinary purchase of green balloons, everyone was thinking. Mrs Dale didn't sound like much of a suspect. "Though we must always rule out everyone properly," Bets thought to herself.

"Anyone else?" asked Fatty, afraid that they were about to come to a full stop again.

"There was somebody, I'm just trying to remember. Oh yes!" Mrs Roberts said, brightening, "the farmer who lives at Meadows Farm, he bought about ten the other day. All had to be the same colour, he said."

The children exchanged excited glances. This was more like it! "Thanks very much, Mrs Roberts," said Fatty.

The door of the shop opened, and the large figure of Mr Goon walked in. He glared at the children, and approached the counter. "I was here to enquire," he said officially, "about green balloons."

Mrs Roberts looked surprised. "Why, what a coincidence! The children have just now asked me about balloons."

Mr Goon whirled round angrily as the children fled from the shop back to Larry's house. "How annoying," said Larry, once they were all back inside. "Goon seems to have got a balloon clue too."

"Yes," said Fatty thoughtfully. "Maybe that was from the first flying saucer incident. We didn't find anything in the field that time."

"We should act quickly, because Goon will learn the same information we know," Pip said.

"You're right," Fatty said. "Well, I think we all agree that the farmer sounds like the best culprit."

"But how can we find out?" asked Daisy.

"We'll make use of our third clue," Fatty said. "The footprint! We need to find out what shoes the farmer wears."

"How can we do that?" asked Bets. "We can't just go up and ask him!"

"Of course not," said Fatty. "But what if I dress up as a shoe-shine boy, and pay a visit?"

"A wonderful idea!" said Larry. "Come on, you'd better hurry before Goon gets there." The five rushed over to Fatty's shed, Buster scampering behind on his little legs. They helped him quickly into a disguise. He wore a blonde wig and painted on freckles. He also slipped in a set of false teeth, which made his mouth look wider. The teeth also gave him a goofy look, and the others agreed that he looked very different to the usual Fatty. He slipped inside the house and took up some polish and a cloth, which he placed in a bag.

He took one last look at the footprint drawing to memorise it and waved goodbye and hurried off. On his way to the farm he passed a house, from which much noise was coming. He looked over the fence and saw lots of young children playing in the garden, dressed up in fancy dress. He also noticed lots of green balloons tied to the top of brown posts. "Ah ha!" Fatty said to himself. "The jungle party. I think that rules out Mrs Dale." He carried on to the farm, and made his way round to a side door. He rapped on it sharply.

Just as he was beginning to think that no one would answer, the door was opened. "Yes?" said a voice, a little impatiently.

"Shoe shine?" asked Fatty in a cheerful voice. "Fast and high quality jobs done, mister."

"All right, while I'm having my cup of tea you might as well," said the man. Fatty followed him inside to a large kitchen. No one else was about. The man sat down on a chair. "You do the shoes in there," he said, pointing to an alcove where some pairs of shoes were lined up. He picked up a paper and sipped his tea, not seeming inclined to talk.

"You the farmer, mister?" Fatty asked, as he began to polish the shoes.

"That I am," said the farmer. "Mr Rolls you can call me."

"This a big farm, mister?" Fatty enquired, surreptitiously checking the soles of all the shoes for a pattern that might match his drawing.

"It's a fair size, but I manage it on my own, just me and three farmhands, like," said the farmer.

"What about the shoes on your feet, Mr Rolls," Fatty asked.

"They're staying where they are," said Mr Rolls with a grunt. "I'm back out in a minute. These're my farm boots anyway, they don't need a polish."

"Well, p'haps I can scrap the mud off the bottom for you," suggested Fatty. He felt sure that the boots the farmer would wear out to Cedar Field would be his scruffy ones.

"I tell you, I'm going back out in the mud in just a minute. There's no point. Here-" he tossed a pound at Fatty "-now run along."

Fatty had no choice but to gather his tools and leave the farm. Walking back along the road, feeling dejected, he walked straight into none other than Mr Goon, heading in the direction of the farm. "Just got away in time then," thought Fatty. "Sorry mister," he said aloud, and went to step round Mr Goon. But Mr Goon put out a huge arm and stopped him.

"Are you a shoe shiner?" he asked.

"Uh… yes," Fatty said.

"Well do mine then, if you don't mind," Mr Goon said, sitting down on a nearby wall.

Fatty sighed and set his bag down. He polished Mr Goon's shoes, and looked up at him. He was looking away down the road. Fatty stuck his finger in the dusty dirt beside the wall and drew a cheeky face quickly on the front of each shoe. It stuck well to the fresh polish. "Done mister!" Fatty said, and quick as a flash he ran off down the lane.