Читать книгу The Mystery of the Pantomime Cat - Enid blyton - Страница 5

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The five children discussed their plan with great interest the next day. Buster sat near them, ears cocked up, listening.

“Sorry, old thing, but I’m afraid you’re not in this,” said Fatty, patting the little Scottie. “You’ll have to be tied up at home. Can’t have you careering after me, yapping at Pippin, when he comes by our hiding-place.”

“Woof,” said Buster, mournfully, and lay down as if he had no further interest in the subject.

“Poor Buster,” said Bets, rubbing the sole of her shoe along his back. “You hate to be left out, don’t you? But this isn’t a real mystery, Buster. It’s only a pretend one.”

The children decided that Larry and Fatty had better get into their disguises at Larry’s house, as it was near to the garden where they were to hide. Then they could sprint back to Larry’s without much bother.

“I’ll bring the clothes along in a suitcase after tea,” said Fatty. “Any chance of hiding the case anywhere in your garden, Larry? In a shed or something. Grown-ups are always so suspicious of things like that. If I arrive at your house complete with suitcase your mother’s quite likely to want to know what’s in it.”

“Yes. Well, there’s the little shed halfway down the garden,” said Larry. “The one the gardener uses. I’ll join you there whatever time you say—and we might as well change into our disguises there, Fatty. We’ll be safe there. What are we going to wear?”

“Oh, can we come and see you getting into your disguises?” said Bets, who didn’t want to miss anything if she could help it. “Do let’s. Pip and I could slip out when we are supposed to be reading after supper.”

“Mother is going to the Little Theatre to see the show there tonight,” said Pip, remembering. “We’ll be quite safe to come and see you disguising yourselves.”

So, at eight o’clock that night, Fatty, Larry, Daisy, Pip, and Bets were all shut up in the little shed together. Fatty pinned a sack tightly across the tiny window so that no light would show. Then he and Larry began to disguise themselves.

“We’d better make ourselves pretty awful-looking,” said Fatty. “I bet Pippin will shine that torch of his on to us, and we’ll let him get a good look at our ruffianly faces. Here, Larry—you wear this frightful moustache. And look, there’s that red wig of mine—wear that too, under an old cap. You’ll look horrible.”

Bets watched the two boys, fascinated. Fatty was extremely clever at dressing up

Bets watched the two boys, fascinated. Fatty was extremely clever at dressing up. He had many books on the art of disguising oneself, and there wasn’t much he didn’t know about it! Also, he had a wonderful collection of false eyebrows, moustaches, beards, and even sets of celluloid teeth that fitted over his own teeth, and stuck out horribly.

He put on a ragged beard. He screwed up his face and applied black grease-paint to his wrinkles. He stuck on a pair of shaggy eyebrows, which immediately altered him beyond recognition. Bets gave a squeal.

“You’re horrible, Fatty! I don’t know you. I can’t bear to look at you.”

“Well, don’t then,” said Fatty, with a grin that showed black gaps in his front teeth. Bets stared in horror.

“Fatty! Where are your teeth? You’ve got two missing!”

“Just blacked them out, that’s all,” said Fatty, with another dreadful grin. “In this light it looks as if I’ve got some missing, doesn’t it?”

He put on a wig of thinnish hair that straggled under his cap. He screwed up his face, and waggled his beard at Bets and Daisy.

“You look disgusting and very frightening,” said Daisy. “I’m glad I’m not going to walk into you unexpectedly tonight. I’d be scared stiff. Oh, look at Larry, Bets—he’s almost as bad as Fatty. Larry, don’t squint like that.”

Larry was squinting realistically, and had screwed up his mouth so that his moustache was all on one side.

“Don’t overdo it,” said Fatty. “You look like an idiot now—not that that’s much change for you.”

Larry hit him on the back. “You mind what you say to me,” he growled, in a deep voice. “I’m Loopy Leonard from Lincoln.”

“You look it,” said Daisy. “You’re both horrible. Pippin won’t believe you’re real when he sees you!”

Fatty looked at Daisy. “Do you think he’ll see through our disguises then?” he asked, anxiously. “Have we overdone it?”

“No. Not really,” said Daisy. “I mean, a policeman sees lots of awful ruffians and scoundrels, I expect, and some of them must look as bad as you. Ugh, you do look revolting. I shall dream about you tonight.”

“I say—time’s getting on,” said Pip, suddenly, looking at his watch. He had been silent and a little sulky because he was not going too. But, as Fatty pointed out, he was not tall enough to pass for a man, whereas he and Larry were. They were both well grown, and Fatty especially was quite burly now.

“Right. We’ll go,” said Fatty, and Larry opened the door of the shed cautiously.

“We’ll have to go past the kitchen door,” he said. “But it’s all right, no one will hear us.”

The two horrible-looking ruffians tiptoed up the path and round by the kitchen door. Just as they got there the door opened and a bright beam of light fell on the two of them. There was a loud scream and the door was banged shut.

“Golly! That was Janet, our cook,” whispered Daisy. “She must have had the fright of her life when she saw you. Quick, get off before she tells Daddy!”

The two boys scurried away into the road. Bets went home with Pip. Daisy went in at the garden door and heard Janet telling her father in a most excited voice about the two frightful men she had seen. “Great big fellows, sir,” she said, “about six feet high, they were—and they glared at me out of piercing eyes, and growled like dogs.”

Daisy chuckled and slipped upstairs. She wasn’t at all surprised at Janet’s horror. Those two certainly had looked dreadful.

Fatty and Larry made their way cautiously to the empty house. They crossed over whenever they heard any one coming along the dark streets. Nobody saw them, which was a good thing, for most people would certainly have raised the alarm at the sight of two such extraordinary-looking rogues.

They came to the empty house. They slipped in at the front gate very quietly indeed. There was a side gate as well.

“When Pippin comes by, we’ll start our whispering here, under this bush,” said Fatty. “And then when he comes in at the front gate to investigate, we’ll sprint out of the side gate. Let him shine his light on our faces, because he can’t possibly tell who we are, in these frightful disguises.”

“Right,” said Larry. “Got the torn-up note, Fatty?”

Fatty felt in his pocket. He drew out an envelope. In it was a dirty piece of paper, torn into six or eight pieces. On it Fatty had written a cryptic message.

“Behind Little Theatre. Ten p.m. Friday.”

He grinned as he took out the torn pieces and thought of the message on them. “When Pippin turns up behind the Little Theatre on Friday we’ll see that he finds a lovely lot of clues,” he said to Larry. He scattered the bits of paper on the ground below the bush they were hiding behind. They fell there and lay waiting for the unsuspicious Pippin to pick them up later on in the evening!

“Sh!!” said Larry, suddenly. “He’s coming. I know his funny little cough now, though I can’t hear his footsteps. Ah—now I can.”

The boys waited silently until P.C. Pippin was near the garden. Then Fatty said something in a sibilant whisper. Larry then rustled the bush. Fatty said “Ssssst!” and P.C. Pippin switched on his torch at once.

“Now then! Who’s there? You come on out and show yourselves!” said Pippin’s voice, sounding very sharp indeed.

“Don’t run yet,” whispered Fatty. “Let him get a look at us.”

Larry rustled the bush again. Pippin turned his torch on to it at once, and was horrified to see two such villainous faces peering out at him. What ruffians! Up to no good, he’d be bound!

“Now for it!” said Fatty, as the policeman swung open the front gate.

The two boys at once sprinted out of the back gate, and raced off down the road, with P.C. Pippin a very bad third. “Hey, stop there! Stop!” he shouted. This was more than the boys had bargained for! Suppose somebody did stop them! It would be very awkward indeed.

But fortunately no one stopped them or even tried to, though the village butcher, out for a walk with his wife in the fine spring night, did step out to catch hold of them. But when he saw Fatty’s horrible-looking face in the light of a street-lamp he thought better of it, and the boys raced by in safety.

They turned in at Larry’s gate thankfully. They went to the little shed and sank down, panting. Fatty grinned.

“Nice work, Larry! He’ll go back there with his torch and snoop round—and he’ll find the torn bits of paper and turn up on time for his next clues on Friday. I enjoyed that. Did you?”

“Yes,” said Larry. “I only wish I didn’t have to take off this wizard disguise. Can’t we go round the town a bit and show ourselves to a few more people?”

“Better not,” said Fatty. “Come on—let’s take our things off. My word—wish it had been old Goon who came along and spotted us—what a thrill for him!”

Meanwhile P.C. Pippin had made his way back to the garden where the two ruffians had been hiding. He was excited. He had never hoped for anything to happen whilst he was taking Goon’s place. And now he had surprised two horrible-looking villains hiding in the garden of an empty house, no doubt planning a burglary of some kind.

P.C. Pippin shone his torch on the ground under the bush where the two ruffians had stood. He hoped to see some footprints there. Aha, yes—there were plenty! And there was something else too—torn pieces of paper! Could those fellows have dropped them?

Mr. Pippin took his note-book from his pocket and placed the bits of paper carefully in the flap at the back. There were eight pieces—with writing on them! He would examine them carefully at home. Next he took out a folding ruler and carefully measured the footprints in the soft earth. Then he looked about for cigarette-ends or any other clue. But except for the bits of paper there was nothing.

P.C. Pippin was up till past midnight piecing together the bits of paper, making out the thrilling message, writing out a description of the two men, and trying to draw the footprints to measure. He felt very important and pleased. This was his first Case. He was going to handle it well. He would go to that Little Theatre on Friday night, long before ten—and see what he would find there! All this might be Very, Very Important.