Читать книгу The Mystery of the Pantomime Cat - Enid blyton - Страница 3

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Larry and Daisy were waiting for Fatty to come and call for them with Buster the Scottie. They swung on the gate and kept looking down the road.

“Nice to be home for the hols, again,” said Daisy. “I wish Fatty would buck up. We shan’t be in time to meet Pip and Bets’ train if he doesn’t buck up. I’m longing to see them again. It seems ages since the Christmas hols.”

“There he is!” said Larry, and jumped off the gate. “And there’s Buster. Hallo, Fatty! We’ll have to hurry or we won’t be in time to meet Bets and Pip.”

“Plenty of time,” said Fatty, who never seemed in a hurry. “I say, it’ll be fun to be all together again, won’t it—the Five Find-Outers, ready to tackle the next super-colossal mystery!”

“Woof,” said Buster, feeling a bit left out. Fatty corrected himself. “The Five Find-Outers and Dog. Sorry, Buster.”

“Come on,” said Daisy. “The train will be in. Fancy, we’ve had almost a week’s holiday and haven’t seen Bets and Pip. I bet they didn’t like staying with their Aunt Sophie—she’s frightfully strict and proper. They’ll be full of pleases and thank-yous and good manners for a few days!”

“It’ll wear off,” said Fatty. “Any one seen old Clear-Orf these hols.?”

Clear-Orf was the name the children gave to Mr. Goon, the village policeman. He couldn’t bear the five children, and he hated Buster, who loved to dance round the fat policeman’s ankles in a most aggravating way. The children had solved a good many mysteries which Mr. Goon had tried to puzzle out himself, and he was very jealous of them.

“He’ll say ‘Clear-orf!’ as soon as ever he spots one of us anywhere,” said Larry, with a grin. “It’s sort of automatic with him. I say—I wonder if there’ll be any more mysteries these hols. I feel I could just use my brains nicely on a good juicy mystery!”

The others laughed. “Don’t let Daddy hear you say that,” said Daisy. “You had such a bad report that he’ll wonder why you don’t use your brains for Latin and Maths., instead of Mysteries!”

“I suppose he had ‘Could use his brains better,’ or ‘Does not make the best use of his brains,’ on his report,” said Fatty. “I know the sort of thing.”

“You couldn’t ever have had those remarks put on your report, Fatty,” said Daisy, who had a great admiration for Fatty’s brains.

“Well,” said Fatty, modestly, “I usually have ‘A brilliant term’s work,’ or ‘Far surpasses the average for his form’ or ...”

Larry gave him a punch. “Still the same modest but conceited old Fatty! It’s marvellous how you manage to boast in such a modest tone of voice, Fatty. I ...”

“Stop arguing; there’s the train’s whistle,” said Daisy, beginning to run. “We simply must be on the platform to meet Pip and Bets. Oh, poor Buster—he’s getting left behind on his short legs. Come on, Buster!”

The three children and Buster burst through the door on to the platform. Buster gave a delighted bark, and sniffed at the bottom of a pair of stout dark-blue trousers, whose owner was standing by the book-stall.

There was an exasperated snort. “Clear-orf!” said a familiar voice. “Put that dog on a lead!”

“Oh—hallo, Mr. Goon!” chorused Fatty, Larry, and Daisy, as if Mr. Goon was their dearest friend.

“Fancy seeing you!” said Fatty. “I hope you are quite well, Mr. Goon—not feeling depressed at this weather, or ...”

Mr. Goon was getting ready to be very snappish when the train came in with a thunderous roar that made it impossible to talk.

“There’s Pip!” yelled Larry, and waved so violently that he almost knocked off Mr. Goon’s helmet. Buster retired under a platform seat and sat there looking very dignified. He didn’t like trains. Mr. Goon stood not far off, looking for whoever it was he had come to meet.

Bets and Pip tumbled out of the train in excitement. Bets ran to Fatty and hugged him. “Fatty! I hoped you’d come and meet us! Hallo, Larry, hallo Daisy!”

“Hallo, young Bets,” said Fatty. He was very fond of Bets. He smacked Pip on the back. “Hallo, Pip! You’ve just come back in time to help in a super-colossal mystery!”

This was said in a very loud voice, which was meant to reach Mr. Goon’s ears. But unfortunately he didn’t hear. He was shaking hands with another policeman, a young, pink-faced, smiling fellow.

“Look!” said Larry. “Another policeman! Are we going to have two in Peterswood now, then?”

“I don’t know,” said Fatty, looking hard at the second policeman. “I rather like the look of Goon’s friend—he looks a jolly sort of chap.”

“I like the way his ears stick out,” said Bets.

“Idiot,” said Pip. “Where’s old Buster, Fatty?”

“Here, Buster—come out from under that seat,” said Fatty. “Shame on you for being such a coward!”

Buster crawled out, trying to wag his tail whilst it was still down, in a most apologetic way. But as the train then began to draw out of the station again with a terrific series of chuffs, Buster retired hurriedly under the seat once more.

“Poor Buster! I’m sure if I was a dog I’d hide under a seat too,” said Bets, comfortingly.

“It’s not so long ago since you always stood behind me when the train came in,” said Pip. “And I remember you trying to ...”

“Come on,” said Fatty, seeing Bets beginning to go red. “Let’s go. Buster! Come on out and don’t be an idiot. The train is now a mile away.”

Buster came out, saw two pairs of dark-blue legs walking towards him, and ran at them joyfully. Mr. Goon kicked out.

“That there dog!” he said, balefully. He turned to his companion. “You want to look out for this here dog,” he told him, in a loud voice. “He wants reporting. He’s not under proper control, see? You keep your eyes open for him, Pippin, and don’t you stand no nonsense.”

“Oh, Mr. Goon, don’t say there’s going to be two of you chasing poor Buster,” began Fatty, always ready for an argument with Mr. Goon.

“There’s not going to be two of us,” said Mr. Goon. “I’m off on holiday—about time too—and this here’s my colleague, P.C. Pippin, who’s coming to take over when I’m away. And I’m very glad we’ve seen you, because now I can point you all out to him, and tell him to Keep his Eye on You. And that dog too.” He turned to his companion, who was looking a little startled.

“See these five kids? They think themselves very clever—think they can solve all the mysteries in the district! The trouble they’ve put me to—you wouldn’t believe it! Keep your Eye on them, Pippin—and if there’s any mystery about, keep it to yourself. If you don’t you’ll have these kids poking their noses into what concerns the Law, and making themselves Regular Nuisances.”

“Thanks for the introduction, Mr. Goon,” said Fatty, with a grin. He smiled at the other policeman. “Pleased to welcome you to Peterswood, Mr. Pippin. I hope you’ll be happy here. And—er—if at any time we can help you, just let us know.”

“There you are! What did I tell you?” said Mr. Goon, going red in the face. “Can’t stop interfering! You clear-orf, all of you and take that pestiferous dog with you. And mind you, I shall warn P.C. Pippin of all your little tricks and you’ll find he won’t stand any nonsense. See?”

Mr. Goon stalked off with his friend Pippin, who looked round at the children rather apologetically as he went. Fatty gave him a large wink. Pippin winked back.

“I like him,” said Bets. “He’s got a nice face. And his ears ...”

“Stick out. Yes, you told us that before,” said Pip. “I say, Fatty, I bet old Goon is going to have a wonderful time telling P.C. Pippin all about us. He’ll make us out to be a band of young gangsters or something.”

“I bet he will!” said Fatty. “I’d just love to hear what he says about us. I guess our ears will burn.”

They did burn! Mr. Goon was really enjoying himself warning P.C. Pippin about the Five Find-Outers—and Dog!

“You keep a firm hand on them,” said Mr. Goon. “And don’t you stand any nonsense from that fat boy—regular toad he is.”

“I thought he looked quite a good sort,” said P.C. Pippin, surprised.

Mr. Goon did one of his best snorts. “That’s all part of his artfulness. The times that boy’s played his tricks on me—messed me up properly—given me all kinds of false clues, and spoilt some of my best cases! He’s a half-wit, that’s what he is—always dressing himself up and acting the fool.”

“But isn’t he the boy that Inspector Jenks has got such a high opinion of?” said P.C. Pippin, frowning in perplexity. “I seem to remember him saying that ...”

This was quite the wrong remark to make to Mr. Goon. He went purple in the face and glared at Pippin, who looked back at him in alarm.

“That boy Sucks Up to Inspector Jenks,” said Mr. Goon. “See? He’s a regular sucker-up, that boy is. Don’t you believe a word that the Inspector says about him. And just you look out for mysterious red-headed boys dashing about all over the place, see?”

P.C. Pippin’s eyes almost popped out of his head. “Er—red-headed boys?” he said, in an astonished voice. “I don’t understand.”

“Use your brains, Pippin,” said Mr. Goon in a lofty voice. “That boy, Fatty—he’s got no end of disguises, and one of his favourite ones is a red wig. The times I’ve seen red-headed boys! And it’s been Fatty dressed up just to trick me. You be careful, Pippin. He’ll try the same trick on you, you mark my words. He’s a Bad Lot. All of those children are pests—interfering pests. No respect for the Law at all.”

P.C. Pippin listened in surprise, but most respectfully. Mr. Goon was twice his age and must have had a lot of experience. P.C. Pippin was very new and very keen. He felt proud to take Mr. Goon’s place whilst he was away on holiday.

“I don’t expect anything difficult will turn up when I’m away,” said Goon, as they turned into the gate of his little front garden. “But if something turns up, keep it to yourself, Pippin—don’t let those kids get their noses into it, whatever you do—and just you send for me if they do, see? And try and get that dog run in for something. It’s a dangerous dog, and I’d like to get it out of the way. You see what you can do.”

P.C. Pippin felt rather dazed. He had liked the children and the dog. It was surprising to find that Mr. Goon had such different ideas. Still—he ought to know! P.C. Pippin determined to Do His Very Best for Mr. Goon. His Very, Very Best!