“He’s
locked
and
bolted
them in the horse
trailer. I found an abandoned bicycle in a
hedge at the fairgrounds and borrowed it.
Luckily the trailer is such a battered old
banger it couldn’t go very fast. I managed to
follow them all the way to the
abattoir
in Hayes.
Dodgy Dean is parked outside, guarding them
until morning. My poor legs have never worked
so hard!”
“
Non!”
gasped Fifi, pressing a silk
handkerchief to her forehead as if she were
about to faint.
“What’s an abattoir?” asked the twins.
“Er, it’s . . .
not
a very nice place for animals,”
said Mrs. Bold.
“But what is it?”
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