Читать книгу The Mystery of Tally-ho Cottage - Enid blyton - Страница 6

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The five children and Buster were halfway down the road, running at top speed!

‘Good thing that train came in when it did!’ panted Pip.

‘Horrid old Goon! He would turn up just then!’ said Bets. ‘It wasn’t Buster’s fault. He wasn’t doing any harm.’

‘Let’s hide somewhere till Goon’s gone by,’ said Daisy. ‘He’s got his bike, I expect, and he’ll have a few nasty things to say to us if he sees us.’

‘Oh yes, do let’s hide,’ said Bets, who really was very scared of the big policeman.

‘Right. Here’s an empty watchman’s hut!’ said Fatty, spotting it standing beside a place where the road was being repaired. ‘Hop in. It will just about take us all. The back is towards where Goon will come from. He’ll sail right by!’

They crowded into the little hut—only just in time! Goon turned the corner on his bicycle and came sailing down the road at top speed, on the look-out for the Five—and especially for that Pest of a Dog!

They all watched him sail past, his feet going rapidly up and down on the pedals. They caught sight of his grim face as he went by. Fatty grinned.

‘There he goes. Well, we’d better keep out of his way for a day or two,’ he said. ‘I expect he’ll be after us about old Buster. What did happen? Tell me. I was jolly surprised to find you all on the platform with your backs to me, not caring tuppence whether I arrived or not!’

‘Oh, Fatty—everything happened so quickly!’ said Bets, as they walked home with him. She told him all about tying Buster up to the seat, and how the man and woman had arrived with their friends, and how Poppet had got mixed up with Buster.

‘It was such a to-do!’ said Pip. ‘I’m awfully sorry about it, Fatty—just as your train arrived too!’

‘That’s all right!’ said Fatty. ‘I was only pulling your leg about it. Has Buster been good with you and Bets while I’ve been away?’

‘He’s been angelic!’ said Bets. ‘I shall miss him. Mother wouldn’t let him sleep in my room or Pip’s, as he does in yours, Fatty—but he was most obedient, and only came scratching at my door once in the middle of the night.’

‘You’re a very well-brought-up dog, aren’t you, Buster?’ said Fatty, and the little Scottie danced in delight round his ankles. ‘Blow Goon! It was bad luck that he came up at that minute. I bet he’ll be after us for details of “Savage Behaviour of Dog out of Control”. I expect that’s what he wrote down in his notebook. We’ll have to think what to say to him.’

‘Here we are,’ said Pip, stopping by Fatty’s gate. ‘When shall we see you again, Fatty? You’ll have to go in and unpack now, I suppose?’

‘Yes,’ said Fatty. ‘Come round tomorrow to the shed at the bottom of my garden. And if you see Goon just say that as I own Buster, I’m the one for him to see. Well, so long! All news tomorrow!’

He went through the gate and round to the garden-door of his house. Bets sighed. ‘Oh, I do wish we could all have had tea together or something. I’m just longing for a good talk with Fatty. Isn’t he brown?’

Much to Bets’ relief, Mr. Goon didn’t appear at her home that day. When she and Pip set out the next morning to go to Fatty’s shed, they both kept a good look-out for the fat policeman, but he didn’t appear either on foot or on his bicycle.

Larry and Daisy were already down in the shed with Fatty. It was warm and cosy, for the oil-lamp was lighted and burning well. Fatty was just the same old Fatty, handing out bars of chocolate, and opening bottles of ginger-beer and lemonade. He grinned at Pip and Bets.

‘Come on in. Seen old Goon?’

‘No. Has anybody seen him?’ asked Bets.

Nobody had. Buster went over to Bets and lay down beside her. ‘He feels as if he belongs to you as well as to me, now,’ said Fatty, smiling at Bets. He was very fond of little Bets, and she thought the world of Fatty.

‘You are brown, Fatty!’ said Bets, looking at his sunburnt face. ‘If you wanted to disguise yourself as an Indian or some other foreigner you’d easily pass for one.’

‘Good idea!’ said Fatty. ‘I might try it on old Goon! I’m longing to get back to some real detective work again, and try out a few disguises. I don’t get much chance at school—I only dressed up once last term.’

‘What as?’ asked Daisy, with a giggle. ‘Go on—tell us. I know you want to!’

‘It wasn’t anything much,’ said Fatty airily. ‘Our French master fell ill and the Head had to send for a new one—and he—er—arrived early, and made a bit of a fool of himself.’

‘Oh—did you pretend to be him?’ said Pip. ‘What did you do, Fatty? You really are a caution!’

‘Well, I togged myself up, put on a moustache and those false teeth of mine,’ said Fatty, ‘and a wig of curly black hair, and a smile you could see a mile off because of the teeth ...’

The others laughed. They knew Fatty’s frightful false front teeth!

‘Did you ask for the Head?’ asked Bets.

‘Gosh no—I’m not as fat-headed as all that!’ said Fatty. ‘I knew I’d find three or four of the masters watching the football that afternoon, so I made my way to them and talked to them very earnestly about the school. ‘And ze dear boys—zey await my coming, is it not? And ze—how you call him—ze Head—he awaits me also? Zis is ze football, is it not? Boom-boom—how zat boy kicked ze ball!’

Fatty acted a Frenchman to the life, and the others roared at him. ‘I don’t think they liked me very much,’ said Fatty. ‘They all muttered something about classes and wandered off one by one. My teeth put them off, I suppose. They were jolly surprised when the real French master turned up!’

‘What was he like? Anything like you pretended to be?’ asked Larry.

‘Not a bit. He was little and rather bald, and had a beard and teeth you’d hardly notice!’ said Fatty. ‘It all caused quite a commotion. A scare went round that the first man must have been someone who wanted to get in and rob the Head’s safe—and the poor new man couldn’t think why people were so surprised to see him.’

‘I don’t know how you dare to do such things,’ said Pip. ‘I’d never dare—and if I did I’d be found out at once. I can’t think why you’re hardly ever spotted, Fatty. There must be something about you—you do carry things off so well!’

Fatty looked pleased. ‘Oh well—I’ve got to practise a bit if I’m going to be a real detective some day. Have some more ginger-beer? Now—have you found any mystery? A mystery would be just about the best news I could hear.’

‘There’s not been a sniff of one,’ said Larry, drinking his ginger-beer. ‘Goon must have been thoroughly bored this Christmas—I don’t believe anything’s happened at all.’

‘Sad,’ said Fatty. ‘After two weeks of doing nothing but fall about in snow I did hope I could exercise my brains as soon as I got home.’

‘Tell us about Switzerland,’ said Bets. ‘Did you really fall down much?’

It appeared that, far from falling down even once, Fatty had done extremely well in all forms of winter sport, and had carried off quite a few prizes. He tried to talk about them modestly, but, being Fatty, this was very difficult.

‘Still the same old Fatty,’ said Larry, after about twenty minutes of listening to Fatty’s exploits. ‘The Wonder Boy! Can’t put a foot wrong even on skis!’

‘Didn’t stand on his head once!’ said Pip, grinning. ‘My cousin Ronald said he was more often upside-down than the right way up, when he went to the winter sports. But not our Fatty!’

‘Don’t tease him!’ said Daisy. ‘You’ll stop his traveller’s tales. He’s got plenty more, haven’t you, Fatty?’

‘Well, I want to hear them, even if nobody else does!’ said Bets, who never minded Fatty’s boasting.

Fatty sighed heavily. ‘Ah well—I don’t want to bore you!’ he said. ‘You tell me your news. How many Christmas cards did you have? Was your turkey done to a turn? Did the fairy doll look nice at the top of your Christmas tree?’

‘Shut up, Fatty,’ said Pip, and gave him a punch. That was the signal for a general scrimmage in which Buster joined in delight. They were all shrieking so loudly that nobody heard a knock at the shed door. Buster was almost barking his head off, and he didn’t hear it either.

The shed door opened, and Fatty’s mother, Mrs. Trotteville, looked in. ‘Frederick!’ she called, in amazement. ‘Frederick! Whatever is going on here? You’ll have the oil-stove over. Frederick!’

Buster heard her first, and stopped barking. He stood and stared at her, and then gave a yelp as if to say ‘Stop this fooling, everybody! Beware!’

Pip suddenly caught sight of Mrs. Trotteville and extricated himself from the heap of bodies on the floor. Fatty’s was underneath, having been well and truly pummelled.

‘Fatty!’ said Pip, in Fatty’s ear. ‘Look out—danger!’

With a great heave Fatty sat up and looked round. He saw the open door and his mother standing in astonishment there. He smoothed back his hair and grinned.

‘Oh—Mother! I didn’t hear you, I can’t think why!’ said Fatty, politely. ‘Do come in. Have a chocolate—or some lemonade? I think there’s a drop left.’

‘Don’t be foolish, Frederick,’ said his mother. ‘Really, to see you behaving like this—you must all have gone mad! You’ll certainly have that oil-stove over, and then the whole place will go up in flames.’

‘I’ve got a bucket of water ready over there, Mother,’ said Fatty. ‘Honestly, you don’t need to worry. We were only—well, actually we were so pleased to be together again that we—er—we ...’

‘I can’t wait while you think up some silly explanation,’ said Mrs. Trotteville impatiently. ‘I just came to say that that policeman, Mr. Goon, is on the telephone and wants to speak to you. I do hope, Frederick, that you haven’t upset him already. You only came back yesterday.’

Goon on the telephone! The Five looked at one another in dismay. That meant he was going to get after old Buster after all. Blow!

‘All right. I’ll go and speak to him,’ said Fatty, getting up and brushing the dust off various parts of himself. ‘Blow Goon! It’s all right, Mother—don’t look at me like that, there’s a dear. I haven’t done anything wrong, truly I haven’t.’

And off he went up the garden path and into the house, Mrs. Trotteville behind him, and Buster scampering along too.

The others looked at one another. Now what horrid things had Goon to say?