Выбери любимый жанр

Mystery #02 — The Mystery of the Disappearing Cat - Blyton Enid - Страница 2


Перейти на страницу:
Изменить размер шрифта:

2

"That's the big boy next door I told you about," said Bets. "Doesn't he whistle nicely?"

Larry got up and went to the wall. He hopped up on a big flower-pot and looked over the wall. He saw a boy there, about fifteen, a big lad with a round red face, startlingly blue eyes that looked rather surprised, and a big mouth full of very white teeth. The lad was hoeing the bed below the wall.

He looked up when he saw someone peeping over. He grinned, showing all his white teeth.

"Hallo," said Larry. "Are you the gardener next door?"

"Lawks! no," said the boy, grinning even more widely. "I'm just the boy — the gardener's boy, I'm called. Mr. Tupping is the gardener — him with the hooky nose and bad temper."

Larry didn't think that Mr. Tupping sounded very nice. He glanced up the garden, but Mr. Tupping and his hooky nose were not in sight.

"Could we come over and see the cats one day?" asked Larry. "It's Siamese cats, isn't it, that Lady Candling has?"

"Yes. Lovely creatures they are," said the boy. "Well, you'd better come when Mr. Tupping is out. He reckons that the whole place is his, cats and all, the way he behaves. Come in tomorrow afternoon. He'll be out then. You can get over this wall. The kennel-girl will be here — Miss Harmer her name is. She won't mind you seeing the cats."

"Righto!" said Larry, pleased. "We'll be over here tomorrow afternoon. I say — what's your name?"

But before the boy could answer him, an angry voice sounded from not far off.

"Luke! Luke! Where have you got to? Didn't I tell you to clear away that rubbish? Drat the boy, he's no use at all."

Luke raised startled blue eyes to Any, and put his hoe over his shoulder. He looked scared.

"That's him," he said in a whisper. "That's Mr. Tupping. I'll be going now. You come on over tomorrow."

He went up the path. Larry slipped back to the others. "He's the garden boy," he said. "His name's Luke. He looks nice, but a bit simple. I shouldn't think he could say boo to a goose."

Bets felt certain she couldn't either, because geese were big and hissy. "Are we to see the cats tomorrow?" she asked. "I heard you saying something about them."

"Yes. Tomorrow afternoon, when Mr. Tupping the gardener is out," said Larry. "We'll hop over the wall. Better not take old Buster though — you know what he is with cats!"

Buster growled when he heard the word. Cats! What did the children want to go and see cats for? Silly useless animals, with paws full of nasty pins and needles! Cats were only good for one thing, and that was — to chase!

Horrid Mr. Tupping!

The next afternoon Larry went to the wall and whistled for Luke.

The boy came along after a while, smiling and showing his white teeth. "It's safe to come," he said. "Mr. Tupping is out"

Soon all the children were over the wall. Fatty helped Bets. Buster was left behind and was most annoyed about it He barked angrily, and stood up on his hind legs, pawing the wall desperately.

"Poor Buster," said Bets, sorry for him. "Never mind, Buster — we'll soon be back."

"No dogs allowed in here," said Luke. "Because of the cats, you know. They're prize cats. Won no end of money, so the kennel-girl says."

"Do you live here?" asked Larry, as they all walked up the path towards some big greenhouses.

"No. I live with my stepfather," said Luke. "My mother's dead. I got no brothers or sisters. This is my first job. My name's Luke Brown, and I'm fifteen."

"Oh," said Larry. "I'm Laurence Daykin, and I'm thirteen. This is Margaret, my sister. She's twelve. We call her Daisy. This is Frederick Algernon Trotteville. He's twelve too, and he's called Fatty."

"I'd rather be called Frederick, thanks," said Fatty, in a cross voice. "There's no reason for me to be called Fatty by every Tom, Dick, and Harry!"

"You aren't Tom, Dick, or Harry, you're called Luke, aren't you?" said Bets to Luke. He grinned.

"I'll call you Frederick if you like," he said to Fatty. "By rights I should call you Master Frederick, but I guess you don't want me to."

"I'm Elizabeth Hilton, and I'm eight, and I'm called Bets," said Bets, afraid that Larry was going to leave her out. "And this is Philip, my brother. He's twelve and he's called Pip."

They told Luke where they lived, and he told them where he lived — in a tumbledown cottage by the river. By this time they had left the greenhouses behind and were going through a beautiful rose-garden. Beyond it rose a green-painted building.

"That's the cat-house," said Luke. "And there's Miss Harmer."

A plump young woman, dressed in corduroy coat and breeches, was near the cat-house. She looked surprised to see the five children.

"Hallo," she said, "where have you come from?"

"We came over the wall," said Larry. "We wanted to see the cats. They're not ordinary ones, are they?"

"Oh no," said Miss Harmer. She was a big, strapping girl of about twenty. "There they are — do you like them?"

The children gazed into the big cage-like building. There were quite a number of cats there, all with the same striking colouring — dark-brown and cream, with brilliant blue eyes. They stared at the children, and miaowed in most peculiar voices.

"They're lovely," said Daisy, at once.

"I think they look queer," said Pip.

"Are they really cats? They look a bit like monkeys," said Bets. The others laughed.

"You wouldn't think they were monkeys once you felt their sharp claws!" said Miss Harmer, with a laugh. "All these cats are prize ones — they have been to shows and won a lot of money."

"Which one has won the most money?" said Bets.

"This one over here," said Miss Harmer, and she led the way to a smaller cage, like a very large kennel on legs. "Well, Dark Queen? Aren't you a beauty? Here are some visitors to tell you how lovely you are!"

The big Siamese cat in the large, airy cage rubbed her head against the wire-netting, mewing loudly. The kennel-girl scratched her gently on the head.

"Dark Queen is our very, very special cat," she said. "She has just won a prize of a hundred pounds. She is worth much more than that."

Dark Queen stood up, and her dark-brown tail rose in the air, swaying gently to and fro. Bets noticed something.

"She's got a few creamy hairs in the middle of her dark tail," she said to Miss Harmer.

"Yes," said the kennel-girl. "She was bitten by one of the others there, and the hairs grew cream instead of brown. But they will turn brown later. What do you think of her?"

"Well — she seems just exactly like all the others," said Daisy. "I mean — they are exactly alike, aren't they?"

"Yes, they are," said Miss Harmer. "They have exactly the same colouring, you see. But I can always tell the difference, even when they are all mixed up together."

"Fancy being worth more than a hundred pounds!" said Fatty, staring at Dark Queen, who stared back with unwinking blue eyes.

"Could you get Dark Queen out?" asked Daisy, who was longing to hold the beautiful cat. "Is she tame?"

"Oh yes" said Miss Harmer. "They are all tame. We only keep them in cages because they are so valuable. We couldn't let them roam free in case someone stole them."

She took a key from a nail, and unlocked the cage-door. She lifted Dark Queen out, and held her. The beautiful cat rubbed against her, purring in a deep voice. Daisy stroked her, and to her delight the cat jumped into her arms.

"Oh, isn't she friendly?" said Daisy joyfully.

Then there came a great disturbance! Buster suddenly rushed along the path and flung himself on Fatty, barking joyfully. Dark Queen leapt straight out of Daisy's arms, and disappeared into the bushes. Buster, surprised, stared for a moment, and then, with a loud and joyful yelp, plunged after her. There was a terrific scrimmage.

2
Мир литературы

Жанры

Фантастика и фэнтези

Детективы и триллеры

Проза

Любовные романы

Приключения

Детские

Поэзия и драматургия

Старинная литература

Научно-образовательная

Компьютеры и интернет

Справочная литература

Документальная литература

Религия и духовность

Юмор

Дом и семья

Деловая литература

Жанр не определен

Техника

Прочее

Драматургия

Фольклор

Военное дело