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Five Go to Mystery Moor

Chapter One
AT THE STABLES

Table of Contents

“We’ve been here a week and I’ve been bored every single minute!” said George.

“You haven’t,” said Anne. “You’ve enjoyed all the rides we’ve had, and you know you’ve enjoyed messing about the stables when we haven’t been out riding.”

“I tell you, I’ve been bored every single minute,” said George, quite fiercely. “I ought to know, oughtn’t I? That awful girl Henrietta too—why do we have to put up with her?”

“Oh—Henry!” said Anne, with a laugh. “I should have thought you’d find a lot in common with another girl like yourself, who would rather be a boy—and tries to act like one!”

The two girls were lying by a hay-stack eating sandwiches. Round them in a field were many horses, most of which the girls either rode or looked after. Some way off was an old rambling building, and by the front entrance was a great board.

“Captain Johnson’s Riding School”

Anne and George had been staying there for a week, while Julian and Dick had gone to camp with other boys from their school. It had been Anne’s idea. She was fond of horses, and had heard so much from her friends at school what fun it was to spend day after day at the stables, that she had made up her mind to go herself.

George hadn’t wanted to come. She was sulky because the two boys had gone off somewhere without her and Anne, for a change. Gone to camp! George would have liked that—but girls were not allowed to go camping with the boys from Julian’s school, of course—it was a camp just for the boys alone.

“You’re silly to keep feeling cross because you couldn’t go camping too,” said Anne. “The boys don’t want us girls round them all the time. We couldn’t do the things they do.”

George thought differently. “I can do anything that Dick and Julian do,” she said. “I can climb, and bike for miles, can walk as far as they can, I can swim—I can beat a whole lot of boys at most things.”

“That’s what Henry says!” said Anne, with a laugh. “Look, there she is—striding about as usual, hands in her jodhpur pockets, whistling like the stable boy!”

George scowled. Anne had been very much amused to see how Henrietta and George hated one another at sight—and yet both had so very much the same ideas. George’s real name was Georgina, but she would only answer to George. Henry’s real name was Henrietta—but she would only answer to Henry—or Harry to her very best friends!

She was about as old as George, and her hair was short too, but it wasn’t curly. “It’s a pity yours is curly,” she said to George, pityingly. “It looks so girlish, doesn’t it?”

“Don’t be an ass,” George said, curtly. “Plenty of boys have curly hair.”

The maddening part was that Henrietta was a wonderful rider, and had won all kinds of cups. George hadn’t enjoyed herself a bit during that week at the stables, because for once in a way another girl had outshone her. She couldn’t bear to see Henrietta striding about, whistling, doing everything so competently and quickly.

Anne had had many a quiet laugh to herself, especially when the two girls had each made up their minds not to call one another Henry and George, but to use their full names—Henrietta and Georgina! This meant that neither of them would answer the other when called, and Captain Johnson, the big burly owner of the riding-stables, got very tired of both of them.

“What are you behaving like this for?” he demanded one morning, seeing their sulky looks at one another at breakfast-time. “Behaving like a couple of idiotic school-girls!”

That made Anne laugh! A couple of idiotic school-girls—my goodness, how annoyed both girls were with Captain Johnson. Anne was a bit scared of him. He was hot-tempered, out-spoken, and stood no nonsense at all—but he was a wonder with the horses, and loved a good, hearty laugh. He and his wife took either boys or girls for the holidays, and worked them hard—but the children always enjoyed their stay immensely.

“If it hadn’t been for Henry, you’d have been perfectly happy this week,” said Anne, leaning back against the hay-stack. “We’ve had heavenly April weather, the horses are lovely, and I like Captain and Mrs. Johnson very much.”

“I wish the boys were here,” said George. “They would soon put that silly Henrietta in her place. I wish I’d stayed at home now.”

“Well, you had the choice,” said Anne, rather cross. “You could have stayed at Kirrin Cottage with your father and mother—but you chose to come here with me, till the boys came back from camp. You shouldn’t make such a fuss if things aren’t exactly to your liking—it spoils things for me.”

“Sorry,” said George. “I’m being a pig, I know—but I do miss the boys. We can only be with them in the hols and it seems funny without them. There’s just one thing that pleases me here you’ll be glad to know ...”

“You needn’t tell me—I know what it is!” said Anne, with a laugh. “You’re glad that Timmy won’t have anything to do with Henry!”

“With Henrietta,” corrected George. She grinned suddenly. “Yes—old Timmy’s got some sense. He just can’t stick her. Here, Timmy boy—leave those rabbit-holes alone and come and lie down for a bit. You’ve run for miles this morning when we took the horses out, and you’ve snuffled down about a hundred rabbit-holes. Come and be peaceful.”

Timmy left his latest rabbit-hole reluctantly and came to flop down beside Anne and George. He gave George a hearty lick and she patted him.

“We’re just saying, Timmy, how sensible you are not to make friends with that awful Henrietta,” said George. She stopped suddenly at a sharp nudge from Anne. A shadow fell across them as someone came round the hay-stack.

It was Henrietta. By the annoyed look on her face it was clear that she had heard George’s remark. She held out an orange envelope to George.

“A telegram for you, Georgina,” she said, stiffly. “I thought I’d better bring it in case it was important.”

“Oh—thanks, Henrietta,” said George, and took the telegram. She tore it open, read it and groaned.

“Look at that!” she said to Anne and passed it to her. “It’s from Mother.”

Anne took the telegram and read it. “Please stay another week. Your father is not well. Love from Mother.”

“What bad luck!” said George, a familiar scowl on her face. “Just when I thought we’d be going home in a day or two, and the boys would join us at Kirrin. Now we’ll be stuck here by ourselves for ages! What’s the matter with Father? I bet he’s only got a head-ache or something, and doesn’t want us stamping about in and out of the house and making a noise.”

“We could go to my home,” said Anne. “That’s if you don’t mind its being a bit upside down because of the decorating we’re having done.”

“No. I know you want to stay here with the horses,” said George. “Anyway your father and mother are abroad—we’d only be in the way. Blow, blow, blow! Now we’ll have to do without the boys for another week. They’ll stay on in camp, of course.”

Captain Johnson said yes, certainly the two girls could stay on. It was possible that they might have to do a bit of camping out if one or two extra children came, but they wouldn’t mind that, would they?

“Not a bit,” said George. “Actually we’d rather like to be on our own, Anne and I. We’ve got Timmy, you see. So long as we could come in to meals and do a few jobs for you, we’d love to go off on our own.”

Anne smiled to herself. What George really meant was that she wanted to see as little of Henrietta as possible! Still—it would be fun to camp out if the weather was fine. They could easily borrow a tent from Captain Johnson.

“Bad luck, Georgina!” said Henry, who was listening to all this. “Very bad luck! I know you’re terribly bored here. It’s a pity you don’t really like horses. It’s a pity that you——”

“Shut up,” said George, rudely and went out of the room. Captain Johnson glared at Henrietta, who stood whistling at the window, hands in pockets.

“You two girls!” he said. “Why don’t you behave yourselves? Always aping the boys, pretending you’re so mannish! Give me Anne here, any day! What you want is your ears boxing. Did you take that bale of straw to the stables?”

“Yes,” said Henrietta, without turning.

“Yes, sir,” said Captain Johnson. “If you want to act like a boy, be one, and say ‘sir’ when you speak to me, if you can’t bother to remember I’ve got a name. It’s ...”

He broke off as a small boy came running in. “Sir—there’s a gypsy kid outside with a horse—a skewbald, a mangy looking thing. He says can you help him—the horse has got something wrong with its leg.”

“What have you done to your horse this time?” said Captain Johnson

“Those gypsies again!” said Captain Johnson. “All right, I’ll come.”

He went out and Anne went with him, not wanting to be left alone with the angry Henrietta. She found George outside with a small dirty gypsy boy and a patient little skewbald horse, its brown and white coat looking very flea-bitten.

“What have you done to your horse this time?” said Captain Johnson, looking at its leg. “You’ll have to leave it here, and I’ll see to it.”

“Can’t do that, sir,” said the boy. “We’re off to Mystery Moor again.”

“Well, you’ll have to,” said Captain Johnson. “It’s not fit to walk. Your caravan can’t go with the others, this horse isn’t fit to pull it. I’ll get the police to your father if you try to work this horse before it’s better.”

“Don’t do that!” said the boy. “It’s just that my Dad says we’ve got to go on tomorrow.”

“What’s the hurry?” said Captain Johnson. “Can’t your caravan wait a day or two? Mystery Moor will still be there in two days time! It beats me why you go there—a desolate place like that—not even a farm or a cottage for miles!”

“I’ll leave the horse,” said the boy, and stroked the skewbald’s nose. It was clear that he loved the ugly little horse. “My father will be angry—but the other caravans can go on without us. We’ll have to catch them up.”

He gave a kind of half-salute to the captain and disappeared from the stable-yard, a skinny little sunburnt figure. The skewbald stood patiently.

“Take it round to the small stable,” said Captain Johnson to George and Anne. “I’ll come and see to it in a minute.”

The girls led the little horse away. “Mystery Moor!” said George. “What a queer name! The boys would like that—they’d be exploring it at once, wouldn’t they?”

“Yes. I do wish they were coming here,” said Anne. “Still—I expect they’ll like the chance of staying on in camp. Come on, you funny little creature—here’s the stable!”

The girls shut the door on the gypsy’s pony and turned to go back. William, the boy who had brought the message about the horse, yelled to them.

“Hey, George and Anne! There’s another telegram for you!”

The two hurried into the house at once. “Oh, I hope Father is better and we can go home and join the boys at Kirrin!” said George. She tore open the envelope and then gave a yell that made Anne jump.

“Look—see what it says. They’re coming here!” Anne snatched the telegram and read it.

“Joining you tomorrow. We’ll camp out if no room. Hope you’ve got a nice juicy adventure ready for us! Julian and Dick.”

“They’re coming! They’re coming!” said Anne, as excited as George. “Now we’ll have some fun!”

“It’s a pity we’ve no adventure to offer them,” said George. “Still—you simply never know!”