Mystery #04 — The Mystery of the Spiteful Letters - - Страница 2

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‘Clear-orf!’ said Mr. Goon. The boy winked at the others and took hold of his bicycle handles. The children couldn’t help liking him. He had red hair, freckles all over his face, red eyebrows and a funny twisty mouth.

He got on his bicycle, did a dangerous swerve towards Mr. Goon, and was off down the road ringing the two bells he had as loudly as ever he could.

‘There’s a boy that’s civil and respectful to the Law,’ said Mr. Goon to the others. ‘And he’s an example to follow, see!’

But the other children were no longer paying attention to the fat policeman. Instead they were looking at the telegram again. How surprising it was! Fatty was surprising, of course - but to go off by plane to China!

‘Mother would never let me do a thing like that,’ said Pip. ‘After all, Fatty’s only thirteen. I can’t believe it!’

Bets burst into tears. ‘I did so want him to come back for the hols and find another mystery!’ she wailed. ‘I did, I did!’

‘Shut up, Bets, and don’t be a baby,’ said Pip. ‘We can solve mysteries without Fatty, can’t we?’

But privately each of them knew that without Fatty they couldn’t do much. Fatty was the real leader, the one who dared to do all kinds of things, the real brain of the Find-Outers.

‘Without Fatty we’re like rabbit-pie without any rabbit in it,’ said Daisy dolefully. That sounded funny, but nobody laughed. They all knew what Daisy meant. Things weren’t nearly so exciting and interesting without Fatty.

‘I just can’t get over it,’ said Larry, walking up the drive with the others. ‘Fatty off to South China! And what can be the mystery he’s solving there? I do think he might have found time to come and tell us.’

‘That telegraph-boy thought an awful lot of Fatty, didn’t he?’ said Bets. ‘Fancy! Fatty must be getting quite famous!’

‘Yes. Old Clear-Orf didn’t like him praising up Fatty, did he!’ chuckled Larry. ‘I liked that boy. He sort of reminded me of some one, but I can’t think who.’

‘I say - what’s going to happen to Buster?’ suddenly said Bets, stopping still in the drive. ‘Fatty wouldn’t be allowed to take his dog with him - and Buster would break his heart left alone. What do you suppose is happening to him? Couldn’t we have him?’

‘I bet Fatty would like us to have him,’ said Pip. ‘Let’s go up to Fatty’s house and ask his mother about Buster. Come on. We’ll go now.’

They all turned and went back down the drive. Bets felt a little comforted. It would be something to have Fatty’s dog, even if they couldn’t have Fatty. Dear old Buster! He was such a darling, and had shared all their adventures.

They came to Fatty’s house and went into the drive. Fatty’s mother was picking some daffodils for her vases, and she smiled at the children.

‘Back for the holidays!’ she said. ‘Well, I hope you’ll all have a nice time. You’re looking very solemn. Is anything the matter?’

‘Well - we just came to see if we could have Buster for the hols,’ said Larry. ‘Oh, there he is! Buster, Buster old fellow! Come here!’

Buster came tearing up to the children, barking madly, his tail wagging nineteen to the dozen. He flung himself on them and tried to lick and bark at the same time.

‘Good old Buster!’ said Pip. ‘I bet you’ll miss Fatty!’

‘It was a great surprise to hear that Fatty has gone to China,’ said Daisy to Mrs. Trotteville. Fatty’s mother looked surprised.

‘In an aeroplane too! ’ said Larry. ‘You’ll miss him, won’t you, Mrs. Trotteville?’

‘What exactly do you mean?’ asked Mrs. Trotteville, looking as if she thought the children had gone mad all of a sudden.

‘Gracious - Fatty can’t have told her!’ said Bets, in a loud whisper.

‘Told me what?’ said Mrs. Trotteville, getting impatient. ‘What’s the mystery? What’s Fatty been up to?’

‘But - but - don’t you know?’ stammered Larry. ‘He’s gone to Tippylooloo, and...’

‘Tippylooloo! What’s all this nonsense?’ said Mrs. Trotteville. She raised her voice. ‘Frederick! Come here a minute!’

The children turned breathlessly to the house - and out of the front door stepping lazily, came Fatty! Yes, it really was Fatty, as large as life, grinning all over his plump face. Bets gave a loud shriek and ran to him. She hugged him.

‘Oh, I thought you’d gone to Tippylootoo! Didn’t you go? Oh, Fatty, I’m so glad you’re here!’

The others stared. They were puzzled. ‘Did you send us that telegram?’ said Daisy suddenly. ‘Was it a joke on your part, Fatty?’

‘What telegram?’ asked Fatty innocently. ‘I was just about to come down and see you all.’

‘This telegram!’ said Pip, and pushed it into Fatty’s hand. He read it and looked astonished.

‘Somebody’s been playing a joke on you,’ he said. ‘Silly sort of joke. And anyway, fancy you all believing I was off to Tippylooloo! Gosh!’

‘You and your jokes! ’ said Mrs. Trotteville. ‘As if I should let Frederick go to China, or wherever that ridiculous Tippylooloo place is. Now, if you want to go and talk to Frederick, either go indoors or go for a walk.’

They went indoors. They still felt very puzzled. Buster danced round, barking in delight. He was overjoyed because the whole company of Find-Outers was together again.

‘Who delivered this telegram?’ asked Fatty.

‘The telegraph-boy,’ said Pip. ‘A red-haired chap with freckles and a cheeky kind of voice. He let his bike-handle catch old Clear-Orf on the shin! You should have seen him dance round!’

‘Hm,’ said Fatty. ‘There’s something queer about that telegraph-boy, I think! Delivering a telegram I didn’t send! Let’s go out and look for him and ask him a few questions!’

They went out, and walked down the lane together, Buster at their heels. ‘You go that way, Larry and Daisy, and you go the opposite way, Pip and Bets,’ said Fatty. ‘I’ll take this third way. We’ll scour the village properly for that boy, and meet at the corner by the church in half an hour’s time.’

‘I want to go with you, Fatty,’ said Bets.

‘No, you go with Pip,’ said Fatty, unexpectedly hard-hearted. He usually let Bets have her own way in everything. Bets said nothing but walked off with Pip, feeling rather hurt.

Larry and Daisy saw no telegraph-boy at all, and were waiting by the church corner in twenty-five minutes’ time. Then Pip and Bets came up. They hadn’t seen him either. They looked up and down for Fatty and Buster.

Round the corner came a bicycle, and on it was - the red-headed telegraph-boy, whistling loudly. Larry gave a yell.

‘Oy! Come over here a minute!’

The telegraph-boy wobbled over, and balanced himself by the kerb. His red hair fell in a big lock over his forehead, and his uniform cap was well on one side.

‘What’s up, mate?’ he said.

‘It’s about that telegram,’ said Larry. ‘It’s all nonsense! Our friend Frederick Trotteville hasn’t gone to China - he’s here!’

‘Where?’ said the boy, looking all round.

‘I mean he’s in the village somewhere,’ said Larry. ‘He’ll be along in a minute.’

‘Coo!’ said the boy. ‘I wouldn’t half like to see him! He’s a wonder, he is! I wonder the police don’t take him on, and get him to help them with their problems.’

‘Well, we all helped to solve the mysteries you know,’ said Pip, beginning to feel that it was time he and the others got a bit of praise too.

‘No, did you really?’ said the boy. ‘I thought it was Mr. Trotteville that was the brains of the party. Coo, I’d like to meet him! Do you think he’d give me his autograph?’

The children stared at him, thinking that Fatty must indeed be famous if telegraph-boys wanted his autograph.

‘That was a dud telegram you brought,’ said Larry. ‘A fake, a joke. Did you fake it?’

‘Me fake it! Coo, I’d lose my job!’ said the telegraph-boy. ‘Look here, when’s this famous friend of yours coming? I want to meet him, but I can’t wait here all day. I’ve got to get back to the P.O.’

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