Читать книгу The Mystery That Never Was - Enid blyton - Страница 4

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Punch took the short-cut that the boys always used—out of the back door, through the yard, down the garden to the hole in the hedge. Mrs. Hawes, the woman who came in to help each day, shook her broom at Punch as he flew past, almost tripping her up.

“You and that boy!” she said. “Sixty miles an hour and no brakes! Give me a cat any time!”

Punch and Nicky squeezed through the hole in the yew hedge, and Nicky gave a piercing whistle. It was immediately answered by Kenneth, who was down in his garden shed. Punch arrived there before Nicky, and flung himself on Kenneth, whom, next to Nicky, he adored with all his heart. He licked him from top to toe, giving little whines all the time.

“You’ll wear your tongue out, Punch,” said Kenneth. “Stop it now. I’ve already washed twice this morning. What a dog! Hallo, Nicky! I see Punch is his usual fat-headed self. Hope you are too!”

Nicky grinned. “Hallo, Ken! I say, isn’t it grand, no school this morning! First thing I thought of when I woke. How are your guinea-pigs?”

“Fine. I’ve just finished feeding them,” said Ken. “Look at this tiddler—the youngest of the lot, and the cutest. Get down, Punch. He’s an awfully nosy dog, isn’t he, Nicky? Nosy would be a much better name for him than Punch.”

“Listen, Ken—I’ve a bit of news,” said Nicky, pulling Punch away from the guinea-pig cage. “Wait a minute though—where’s that nosy sister of yours? She’s not anywhere about, is she?”

“She might be,” said Ken, cautiously, and went to the door of the shed to see if his sister Penelope was in sight. “No—all clear,” he said, and came back.

“Penny’s just about as nosy as old Punch here,” said Nicky. “Listen, Ken—you know my Uncle Bob—the one who’s a sort of detective?”

“Yes. What about him? Has he solved some mystery or other?” said Ken, interested at once. “I say, did you see that detective play on TV last night—where nobody could make out who stole the ... ?”

“No, I didn’t. Do listen, Ken. Uncle Bob is coming this morning—and I phoned him and asked him to come in disguise, so that we could show him how good we are at tracking people and seeing through any disguise. Uncle Bob’s a wow at disguising himself—he showed me his Special Wardrobe once—bung full of all kinds of different clothes—and hats! You should have seen them!”

“Gosh!” said Ken. “I say—do you think he’s come down to do a spot of detective work here in our town? Can we help him? We’re pretty good at disguises ourselves, aren’t we? Do you remember that time when you dressed up as a guy and I wheeled you down-town on Guy Fawkes Day? If you hadn’t had a coughing fit nobody would ever have seen through that disguise!”

“My mother says he hasn’t come to do any sleuthing here,” said Nicky, mournfully. “But, of course, he might not have told her, if anything was up. He’s supposed to be coming because he needs a rest.”

“That’s a likely story, I don’t think!” said Ken, scornfully. “I never in my life saw anyone so bursting with health as your Uncle Bob. The way he made us walk for miles, too—do you remember? Personally I’m quite glad to hear he needs a rest!”

“Well, anyway, he’s coming to-day,” said Nicky. “And, as I said, I asked if he’d come in disguise. He’s always one for a game, you know—so what disguise do you think he’ll wear?”

There was a pause. Ken scratched his head. “Well—he might dress up as an old man,” he said.

“Yes, he might,” said Nicky. “Or as a postman. I saw a postman’s uniform in his wardrobe. Anyway, there’s one thing he can’t disguise, and that’s his big feet!”

“Would he disguise himself as a woman?” asked Ken.

“I don’t think so—the voice would be difficult,” said Nicky, considering the matter. “And the walk, too. Uncle Bob’s got a proper man’s walk.”

“Well, so has Penny’s riding mistress,” pointed out Ken. “And her voice is jolly deep. Like this!” And to Punch’s alarmed surprise he suddenly spoke in a curious, deep-down, hoarse voice. Punch growled at once.

“It’s all right, Punch,” grinned Nicky, patting him. “That was a jolly good effort, Ken. Well, what we’ll do is this—go to the station and meet the London train with old Punch here, and ...”

“But that wouldn’t be fair,” objected Ken. “Punch would recognise him at once by his smell. We’d better leave him behind. He’d do what he always does when he sees or smells anyone he knows—go round them in circles, barking his head off.”

“Yes, you’re right. We won’t take old Punch then,” said Nicky. “He’ll be awfully upset, though. We’ll lock him in your shed.”

“No. He’ll howl the place down,” said Ken. “Lock him in yours.”

“Right,” said Nicky. “Do you hear that, Punch, old thing? In the shed for you, see, while we go walky-walkies—and if you don’t make a sound, I’ll give you a great big bone.”

“Wuff!” said Punch, wagging his tail violently at the word “bone.” The boys patted him, and he rolled over on his back, doing his favourite bicycling act with all four legs in the air.

“Ass,” said Nicky. “What shall we do till midday, Ken? The London train comes in about five past twelve.”

“Sh!” said Ken, as the sound of someone singing came on the air. “There’s Penny. Pretend to be tidying up the shed in case she wants us to do anything.”

At once the two boys began to pull boxes about feverishly, and straighten up things on the dirty shelves. A face peered in at the door.

“Oh, so there you are,” said Penny, and came right into the shed. “You’ve been a long time feeding your guinea-pigs, Ken! Mother wondered what you were up to.”

“You mean you did!” said Ken, busily brushing a great deal of dust off a shelf, all over Penny. “Look out! We’re busy, as you can see. Like to help—though it’s a pretty dirty job, cleaning out this shed.”

“Well! I’ve never seen you clean out this shed before!” said Penny, sneezing as the dust flew around. “I wondered if you’d like to mend my bicycle-brake for me. It’s gone again.”

“Penny—we’re BUSY!” said Ken. “I’ll do it to-night. Or you can ask Gardener. He’s good at bikes.”

“Well, I certainly don’t want to stay here in this mess and muddle!” said Penny. “Get down, Punch. Now look how he’s dirtied me with his paws!”

“Oh, for goodness’ sake, go away,” said Ken, and swished another cloud of dust from a nearby shelf. Penny sneezed and hurried out. Nicky looked at Ken.

“Shall I go and mend her brake?” he said. “She just might have an accident, you know. We’ve plenty of time.”

“I can hear her asking Gardener,” said Ken, climbing down from the box he was standing on. “She’s a Nosy Parker—only came down to see what we were doing! Why are girls so nosy? You’re lucky not to have a sister.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t mind a little one,” said Nicky. “It’s not much fun being an ‘only,’ you know. It’s a lucky thing for me that you live next door. Still—I’ve got old Punch!”

“Wuff!” said Punch, and licked his hand. Ken looked round the shed. “We might as well clean it up properly now,” he said. “We’ve nothing to do till midday, when the London train comes in. Shan’t we get filthy!”

They worked hard, and quite enjoyed themselves. “My word—we’re a sight!” said Nicky. “I’d better go in and change—and hope I shan’t bump into Mother on the way! Meet you outside my gate in a quarter of an hour—and then we’ll just show Uncle Bob that we can see through any disguise he’s put on! Come on, Punch—you’ve got to be locked up, old fellow, till we come back!”