Читать книгу The Mystery of the Vanished Prince - Enid blyton - Страница 5

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Bets quite expected some adventure or mystery to turn up immediately, now that Fatty was back. She awoke the next morning with a nice, excited feeling, as if something was going to happen.

They were all to meet at Fatty’s playroom that morning, which was in a shed at the bottom of his garden. Here he kept many of his disguises and his make-up and here he tried out some of his new ideas.

Many a time the others had arrived at his shed to have the door opened by some frightful old tramp, or grinning errand boy, all teeth and cheeks, or even an old woman in layers and layers of skirts, her cheeks wrinkled, and with one or two teeth missing.

Yes—Fatty could even appear to have a few of his front teeth missing, by carefully blacking one here and there, so that when he smiled, black gaps appeared, which seemed to be holes where teeth had once been. Bets had been horrified when she had first seen him, with, apparently, three front teeth gone!

But this morning it was Fatty himself who opened the door. The floor was spread with open books. The four children stepped over the madly barking Buster and looked at them.

“Finger-prints! Questioning of witnesses! Disguises!” said Bets, reading the titles of some of the books. “Oh, Fatty—is there another mystery on already?”

“No,” said Fatty, shutting up the books and putting them neatly into his bookcase at the end of the shed. “But I seem to have got a bit out of practice since I’ve been away—I was just rubbing up my brains, you know. Any one seen old Goon lately?”

Every one had. They had all bumped into him that morning as they rode round to Fatty’s on their bicycles. As usual the policeman had been ringing his bell so violently that he hadn’t heard theirs, and he had ridden right into the middle of them.

“He fell off,” said Daisy. “I can’t imagine why, because none of us did. He went an awful bump too, and he was so angry that nobody liked to stop and help him up. He just sat there shouting.”

“Well, he enjoys that,” said Fatty. “Let’s hope he is still sitting there, shouting, then he won’t interfere with us!”

“Woof,” said Buster, agreeing.

“What are we going to do for the rest of these hols if a mystery doesn’t turn up?” asked Pip. “I mean—we must all have had picnics and outings and things till we’re tired of them. And Peterswood is always half-asleep in the summer. Nothing doing at all.”

“We’ll have to tickle up old Goon, then,” said Fatty, and every one brightened at once. “Or what about my ringing up Inspector Jenks and asking him if he wants a bit of help in anything?”

“Oh, you couldn’t do that,” said Bets, knowing quite well that Fatty could do anything if he really wanted to. “Though it would be awfully nice to see him again.”

Inspector Jenks was their very good friend. He had been pleased with their help in solving many queer mysteries. But Mr. Goon had not been nearly so pleased. The bad-tempered village policeman had wished many and many a time that the five children and their dog lived hundreds of miles away.

“Well—perhaps I won’t bother the Inspector just yet—not till we’ve smelt out something,” said Fatty. “But I was thinking we ought to put in a bit of practice at disguises or something like that—we haven’t done a thing for weeks and weeks—and suppose something did turn up, we’d make a muddle of it, through being out of practice.”

“Oh do let’s practise disguises!” said Bets. “All of us, do you mean?”

“Oh, yes,” said Fatty. “Rather! I’ve got some smashing new disguises here. I picked them up on my cruise.”

Fatty had been for a long cruise, and had called at many exciting places. He opened a trunk and showed the four children a mass of brilliant-looking clothes.

“I picked these up in Morocco,” he said. “I went shopping by myself in the native bazaars—my word, things were cheap! I got suits for all of us. I thought they would do for fancy-dress, though they will do for foreign disguises too!”

“Oh, Fatty—do let’s try them on!” said Daisy, thrilled. She picked out a gay, red skirt of fine silk, patterned in stripes of white.

“There’s a white blouse to go with that,” said Fatty, pulling it out. “Look—it’s got red roses embroidered all over it. It will suit you fine, Daisy.”

“What did you get for me, Fatty?” asked Bets, dragging more things out of the trunk. “You are a most surprising person. You’re always doing things nobody else ever thinks of. I’m sure Pip would never never bring me home any clothes like this if he went to Morocco.”

“I certainly shouldn’t,” said Pip, grinning. “But then I’m not a millionaire like old Fatty here!”

Fatty certainly seemed always to have plenty of money. He was like a grown-up in that, Bets thought. He seemed to have dozens of rich relations who showered tips on him. He was always generous with his money, though, and ready to share with the rest of them.

Bets had a curious little robe-like dress that reached to her ankles. It had to be swathed round and tied with a sash. The others looked at her, and marvelled.

“She looks like a little foreign princess!” said Larry. “Her face is so sunburnt that she looks like an Indian—she might be an Indian! What a wonderful disguise it would make for her!”

Bets paraded round the shed, enjoying herself. She glanced into the big clear mirror that Fatty kept there, and was startled. She looked a real little foreigner! She drew the hood of the frock over her head, and looked round with half-shut eyes. Fatty clapped.

“Jolly good! An Indian princess to the life! Here, Larry—stick this on. And this is for you, Pip.”

The boys pulled on brilliant robes, and Fatty showed them how to wind cloths for gay turbans. All of them were so brown that in a trice they seemed to be transformed into a different race altogether. Nobody would have thought them English.

Fatty stared at the four parading round his shed. He grinned. His brain set to work to try and evolve a plan to use these gay disguises. A visiting princess? A descent on Goon for some reason? He racked his brains for some bright idea.

“We might be the relations of the little Prince Bongawah of Tetarua State,” said Bets, suddenly. “I’m sure we look exactly like them!”

“And who’s Bongawhatever-it-is when he’s at home?” asked Larry. Bets explained.

“He’s a little foreign prince who is staying at one of the School Camps on the hills between Peterswood and Marlow,” she said. “We read about him in the paper. He brought a State Umbrella with him, but the paper said he only used it once!”

“I bet he did,” said Larry, grinning. “Got a State Umbrella, Fatty?”

“No,” said Fatty, regretfully. He looked at every one admiringly. “Honestly, you’re wizard! Of course, your dark-brown faces make you look first-class in those foreign clothes. Any one would think you belonged to some black or brown race of people. I only wish you could parade through the village!”

“You dress up too, Fatty, and let’s go parading!” said Bets. But Fatty had no time to answer because Buster began to bark loudly, and tore out of the open door at sixty miles an hour.

“Now what’s up with him?” said Fatty, in surprise. “I wonder if old Goon’s anywhere about?”

Bets peered out of the door and up the garden path. “It’s three boys,” she said. “Goodness—I know who one is! It’s Ern!”

“Ern!” echoed every one, and ran to the door. Three boys were coming down the path towards the shed, and Buster was dancing excitedly round Ern’s ankles, barking madly.

Fatty shut the door of the shed and faced the others. His eyes sparkled.

“It’s Ern Goon!” he said. “Old Goon’s nephew! Let’s pretend you’re foreign royalty visiting me. If you speak English, speak it badly, see? And if I speak to you in nonsense language, you speak the same. Let’s see if we can take old Ern in properly!”

Ern was, as Fatty said, a nephew of Mr. Goon the policeman. He had once been to stay with his uncle and had been involved in a mystery. Mr. Goon had not been kind to Ern, but the Five Find-Outers had, and Ern thought the world of Fatty. Now here he was, coming to pay a call with two others. What a chance to try out the foreign “disguises”!

Footsteps came right up to the door. Ern’s voice could be heard speaking sternly to his two companions. “Now you behave yourself, see? Both of you. And spit that toffee out, young Sid.”

Whether Sid spat the toffee out or not could not be gathered by the five children in the shed. Bets giggled and Pip gave her a sharp nudge.

There was a knock on the shed-door. Fatty opened it and stared solemnly at Ern. Then his face took on a surprised and pleased expression. He smiled broadly and held out his hand.

“Ern! Ern Goon! This is a pleasure! Do come in, Ern, and let me introduce you to my foreign visitors!”