Читать книгу Shock for the Secret Seven - Enid blyton - Страница 4

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When Saturday morning came, Peter and Janet were very busy. They carried the Safety-First stove down to the shed, and Gardener came in to light it for them. He looked round the shed.

‘Ha—you’ve let it get pretty messy, haven’t you?’ he said. ‘Wants a good clean, that’s what it wants. Waste of a good shed, this, that’s what I think.’

‘It isn’t wasted,’ said Peter. ‘We use it for our meetings. You know we do.’

‘Fat lot of meetings you’ve had lately,’ said Gardener, grumpily. ‘Last month I wanted this shed for my onions, and what happened? No sooner did I put them in than I had to take them out—because you wanted it for a meeting!’

‘We took them out, Gardener, not you!’ said Janet, indignantly. ‘You didn’t have to move a single one!’

Gardener gave one of his grunts, and walked out. Scamper stared after him, his tail down.

‘Cheer up, Scamper,’ said Janet. ‘Gardener always thinks this shed is his, not ours. Peter, let’s make Gardener something for Christmas—he’s not a bad sort really, though he is grumpy. Remember how he gave us apples to store in the shed in the autumn?’

‘Yes. But we’ve eaten them all,’ said Peter, looking hopefully up to a shelf. ‘No—there’s one left, all brown and shrivelled. I say—doesn’t that stove make the shed nice and warm? Buck up and tidy round, Janet. I’ll put out the boxes to sit on. Did you remember your badge? Oh, yes—you’re wearing it. I hope the others will all remember theirs.’

‘Wuff-wuff!’ said Scamper.

‘All right. I know you’ve lost yours, scrabbling after rabbits,’ said Peter. ‘Janet will make you another one when she has time.’

‘Wuff!’ said Scamper, again, and lay down by the stove, his tail wagging just a little. He was looking forward to seeing all the Secret Seven again!

‘Almost ten o’clock,’ said Peter, looking at his watch. ‘Now—are the others going to be late?’

They sat down on the boxes to wait for them. The door, with its big S.S. on it, was fast shut. Footsteps came up to it at last, and someone knocked loudly.

‘Peter—what’s the password?’ whispered Janet, suddenly. ‘Was it—was it Sausages?’

‘Be quiet,’ said Peter, and then yelled out loudly to the knocker. ‘Password, please!’ Jack’s voice answered.

‘Peter, I’ve forgotten it. I just know it had something to do with dinner. Is it Roast Beef?’

‘No.’

‘Well—is it Fried Bacon and Eggs?’

‘No. Go home if you can’t remember it.’

Janet nudged Peter. ‘I forgot it, too, you know. Let him in!’

‘Against the rules!’ said Peter, sternly.

‘Well—is it Old King Cole?’ asked poor Jack.

‘No, it is not!’ said Peter. Then more footsteps were heard, and Peter called out again. ‘Password, please.’

‘Toad-in-the-Hole!’ came the answer in a girl’s voice. Peter swung open the door—and in stepped Susie, Jack’s sister, with a very skinny-looking boy behind her!

‘Susie! Get out! You don’t belong to the Secret Seven! How did you know the password?’ shouted Peter, very angry indeed.

‘I heard Jack saying it over and over to himself two days ago,’ said Susie, smiling wickedly. ‘And ...’

‘Jack—you gave our password away—and you told Susie about our meeting!’ cried Peter, in a great fury.

At that moment all the others came up in a bunch, and stood amazed at the sight of a furious Peter at the door of the shed, a white-faced Jack, a grinning Susie, and a skinny boy they didn’t know!

‘What’s up?’ said George. ‘And who’s this? A new member?’ He looked at Bony, who gazed back at him owlishly through big glasses.

‘My name is Jean Baptiste Bonaparte,’ said the French boy, and bowed most politely from the waist. ‘I stay with my good friend, Jacques. His good sister, she bring me here. I thank you.’

There was a short silence. Nobody knew quite what to say. Then Colin spoke up. ‘Look, I don’t really know what’s going on, but for goodness’ sake ask us into the shed, Peter—it’s freezing out here. I can’t even feel my nose!’

Everyone surged into the shed without waiting for an invitation—Susie and the French boy too! That was too much for Peter.

‘Look here—this is supposed to be a secret meeting!’ he shouted. ‘Susie, get out and take Bony or Skinny or whatever his name is, with you. Go on—you don’t belong to the Secret Seven.’

‘Well—I’m afraid my mother will be most annoyed about this,’ said Susie, her nose well up in the air. ‘When Jack told her he couldn’t play with Bony because you had said he must come to the meeting, Mother said all right, he could go, but he must take Bony too. He wouldn’t take him—so I’ve brought him.’

‘Well, you just take him away again!’ said Peter. ‘Do you hear? Take him away. And you can go too, Jack.’

‘No!’ said Janet, at once. ‘You’re to stay, Jack. You’re a Secret Seven member. Stay!’