“Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm” went Dot.

She’d always found singing in the choir at school a bit difficult – all that stuff about just when you should join in, and remembering which bit you had to sing, and being in tune.

Not to mention not giggling when Mrs Primarolo the music teacher went “PINGGGGG!” with her tuning fork and trilled “Keep the note in your head… Keep the note in your head…” so they all sang in tune.

But this was different.

There was something about the TricTrucTrackers’ singing which just made you join in, in a good way. You just felt like it – and it was such a good feeling, too!

“HMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM” they all went.

Suddenly, Dot noticed that the sound she was making was changing. It didn’t seem to have anything to do with her - it was happening on its own.

It was as if her voice was like a bird, swooping and diving in the sky, weaving in and out of the sweet sounds being made by the TricTrucTrackers – who were all still standing in that loose circle, their eyes closed and their arms, with their furry paws, held up towards the flickering branches of the green dome over their heads.

Then, just as quickly as it had begun, the sweet singing stopped. The flickering green dome went too, just as if it had been switched off like a light.

“Splendid!” said Walpurgis.

“Very good!” agreed the one called Hombellyton, nodding in satisfaction. “Don’t know when we’ve had a better Good!”

“Yes” said Carmeramalita, smoothing down her gold and brown striped fur so it gleamed in the soft light of Samson’s server space. “Very nice indeed! If you have to Make Good, that’s the way to do it!”

Dot sighed. Why couldn’t ANYONE tell her what was going on!! She opened her mouth to speak – but she was too late!

Wiz – who had also found himself joining in the singing, but with a kind of low musical howl – spoke up.

“Please” he said “What does Make Good mean?”

“Well” said Walpurgis, looking very serious “It’s our way of being sure that you honestly mean what you say. That you are a good internet person, and that your request for our help is a real one – and that you really do need help. That’s what Make Good is all about!”

“You see” said the TricTrucTracker called Eldenbeam “what we do really matters – and if we’re sent off to search for something that doesn’t really matter, or that someone doesn’t truly need, or even as a trick… ”

“You mean” said Dot “Like someone dialling 999 in for the police, or the ambulance, or the fire service, just as a hoax? When there’s no problem really, or when they really don’t need their help?”

“EXCACTLY!” said Eldenbeam, slapping one of his paws with the back of another. “It’s as bad to do that in Networld as it is in your world! It just means that someone else who’s in trouble can’t be helped!”

Dot took a breath. But she had to ask.

“So…” she said, crossing her fingers behind her back “Are we all right?”

Walpurgis looked round at his companions.

“Do we have Merit, as I believe we do?” he said, in a special deep voice.

“Indisputably!” said Eldenbeam, smiling at Dot and Wizzie and Fromage.

“Undoubtedly!” said Hombellyton, nodding his beaky head in satisfaction.

“Oh, to be sure!” said Carmeramalita, fluttering her eyelashes at Fromage, who blushed a deep mouse-pink. (Yes they can blush – yes, even mice. Anything can happen here in Networld!)

“With greatest pleasure!” boomed Katzilow, bowing to the three companions, each in turn.

“At LAST!” muttered Samson.

Well – that’s to say - it was his idea of a mutter. With him it meant it just came out as a shout, rather than a bellow!

“Good, coolio!” said Dot. Like Samson, she wanted to get going. “So… what do we do now?”

“We search-find!” said Walpurgis the TricTrucTracker leader.

He turned to the screen in Samson’s server space nearest to him, leant forward, and tapped it with his beak.

Samson winced. “Careful!” he rumbled. “That’s our latest – a Zington 560!”

A blizzard of signs and symbols appeared. It looked completely crazy to Dot!

“Ratatouille!” muttered Fromage, shaking his head so his whiskers wobbled.

But Dot wasn’t listening. All the TricTucTrackers had gathered round the screen behind Walpurgis, and she could tell something was up.

Something… not good.

Then Walpurgis spoke – without taking his eyes off the screen.

“Oh DEAR!” he said. “Not good! Not good at all!”