"Of course he would," said Jack. "But I wish it was a houseboat."

The suggestion was so idiotic that everyone fell on him in scorn.

"But who is X.?" Mrs. Avory asked.

The letter was written in a round office hand that told nothing. Mr. Scott
was the most likely person, but why should Mr. Scott hide? He never had
done such a thing. Or Mr. Lenox? But neither was it his way to be secret
and mysterious. Nor was it Uncle Christopher's.

When, however, you have a caravan given you, and it is standing there
waiting to be explored, the question who gave it or did not give it becomes
unimportant.

Gregory put the case in a nutshell. "Never mind about old X. now," he said.
"Let's make a thorough examination!"



CHAPTER 3: THE THOROUGH EXAMINATION

It was a real caravan. That is to say, either gypsies might have lived in
it, or anyone that did live in it would soon be properly gipsified. It was
painted in gay colours, and had little white blinds with very neat waists
and red sashes round them. That is the right kind of caravan. The brown
caravans highly varnished are wrong: they may be more luxurious, but no
gypsy would look at them.