Five Get Into Trouble
1
Five make a holiday plan
'Really, Quentin, you are most difficult to
cope with!' said Aunt Fanny to her husband.
The four children sat at the table, eating
breakfast, and looking very interested. What had Uncle Quentin done now? Julian
winked at Dick, and Anne kicked George under the table. Would Uncle Quentin
explode into a temper, as he sometimes did?
Uncle Quentin held a letter in his hand,
which his wife had just given back to him after she had read it. It was the
letter that was causing all the trouble, Uncle Quentin frowned — and then
decided not to explode. Instead he spoke quite mildly.
'Well, Fanny dear — how can I possibly be
expected to remember exactly when the children's holidays come, and if they are
going to be here with us or with your sister? You know I have my scientific
work to do — and very important it is too, at the moment. I can't remember when
the children's schools break up or go back!'
'You could always ask me,' said Aunt Fanny,
exasperated. 'Really, Quentin — have you forgotten how we discussed having
Julian, Dick and Anne here these Easter holidays because they all enjoy Kirrin
and the sea so much at this time of the year? You said you would arrange to go
off to your conferences after they had had their holidays — not in the very
middle of them!'
'But they've broken up so late!' said Uncle
Quentin. 'I didn't know they were going to do that.'
'Well, but you know Easter came late this
year, so they broke up late,' said Aunt Fanny, with a sigh.
'Father wouldn't think of that,' said
George. 'What's the matter, Mother? Does Father want to go away in the middle
of our holidays, or what?'
'Yes,' said Aunt Fanny, and she stretched
out her hand for the letter again. 'Let me see — he would have to go off in two
days' time — and I must certainly go with him. I can't possibly leave you
children alone here, with nobody in the house. If Joanna were not ill it would
be all right — but she won't be back for a week or two.'
Joanna was the cook. The children were all
very fond of her, and had been sorry to find her missing when they had arrived
for the holidays.
'We can look after ourselves,' said Dick.
'Anne is quite a good little cook.'
'I can help too,' said George. Her real name
was
'Oh George — last time you boiled an egg you
left it in the saucepan till it boiled dry! I don't think the others would like
your cooking very much.'
'It was just that I forgot the egg was
there,' said George. 'I went to fetch the clock to tune it, and on the way I
remembered Timmy hadn't had his dinner, and . . .'
'Yes, we know all about that,' said her
mother with a laugh. 'Timmy had his dinner, but your father had to go without
his tea!'
'Woof,' said Timmy from under the table,
hearing his name mentioned. He licked George's foot just to remind her he was
there.
'Well, let's get back to the subject,' said
Uncle Quentin, impatiently. 'I've got to go to these conferences, that's
certain. I've to read some important papers there. You needn't come with me,
Fanny — you can stay and look after the children.'
'Mother doesn't need to,' said George. 'We
can do something we badly wanted to do, but thought we'd have to put off till
the summer hols.'
'Oh yes,' said Anne, at once. 'So we could!
Do let's!'
'Yes — I'd like that too,' said Dick.
'Well — what is it?' asked Aunt Fanny. 'I'm
quite in the dark. If it's anything dangerous, I shall say no. So make up your
minds about that!'
'When do we ever do anything dangerous?'
cried George.
'Plenty of times,' said her mother. 'Now,
what's this plan of yours?'
'It's nothing much,' said Julian. 'It's only
that all our bikes happen to be in first-class order, Aunt Fanny, and you know
you gave us two small tents for Christmas — so we just thought it would be
great fun sometime to go off on our bikes, taking our tents with us — and do a
little exploring round the countryside.'
'It's grand weather now — we could have fine
fun,' said Dick. 'After all, you must have meant us to use the tents, Aunt
Fanny! Here's our chance!'
'I meant you to use them in the garden, or
on the beach,' said Aunt Fanny. 'Last time you went camping you had Mr Luffy
with you to look after you. I don't think I like the idea of you going off by
yourselves with tents.'
'Oh, Fanny, if Julian can't look after the
others he must be a pretty feeble specimen,' said her husband, sounding
impatient. 'Let them go! I'd bank on Julian any time to keep the others in
order and see they were all safe and sound.'
'Thanks, Uncle,' said Julian, who was not
used to compliments from his Uncle Quentin! He glanced round at the other
children and grinned. 'Of course, it's easy to manage this little lot — though
Anne sometimes is very difficult!'
Anne opened her mouth indignantly. She was
the smallest and the only really manageable one. She caught Julian's grin — he
was teasing her, of course. She grinned back. 'I promise to be easy to manage,'
she said in an innocent voice to her Uncle Quentin.
He looked surprised. 'Well, I must say I
should have thought that George was the only difficult one to . . .' he began,
but stopped when he saw his wife's warning frown. George was difficult, but it
didn't make her any less difficult if that fact was pointed out!
'Quentin, you never know when Julian is
pulling your leg or not, do you?' said his wife. 'Well — if you really think
Julian can be put in charge — and we can let them go off on a cycling tour —
with their new tents . . .'
'Hurray! It's settled then!' yelled George,
and began to thump Dick on the back in joy. 'We'll go off tomorrow. We'll . .
.'
'GEORGE! There's no need to shout and thump
like that,' said her mother. 'You know your father doesn't like it — and now
you've excited Timmy too.
Uncle Quentin got up to go. He didn't like
it when meal-times turned into pandemonium. He almost fell over the excited
Timmy, and disappeared thankfully out of the room. What a household it was when
the four children and the dog were there!
'Oh Aunt Fanny — can we really go off
tomorrow?' asked Anne, her eyes shining. 'It is such lovely April weather —
honestly it's as hot as July. We hardly need to take any thick clothes with
us.'
'Well, if you think that, you won't go,'
said Aunt Fanny, firmly. 'It may be hot and sunny today — but you can never
trust April to be the same two days together. It may be pouring tomorrow, and
snowing on the next day! I shall have to give you money, Julian, so that you
can go to an hotel any night the weather is bad.'
The four children immediately made up their
minds that the weather would never be too bad!
'Won't it be fun?' said Dick. 'We can choose
our own sleeping-place every night and put our tents there. We can bike half
the night if it's moonlight, and we want to!'
'Ooooh — biking in moonlight — I've never
done that,' said Anne. 'It sounds super.'
'Well — it's a good thing there is something
you want to do while we are away,' said Aunt Fanny. 'Dear me — I've been
married all these years to Quentin — and still he makes this kind of muddle
without my knowing! Well, well — we'd better get busy today, and decide what
you're to take.'
Everything suddenly seemed very exciting.
The four children rushed to do their morning jobs of making the beds and tidying
their rooms, talking at the tops of their voices.
'Who would have thought we'd be off on our
own tomorrow!' said Dick, pulling his sheets and blankets up in a heap
together.
'Dick! I'll make your bed,' cried Anne,
shocked to see it made in such a hurried way. 'You can't possibly make it like
that!'
'Oh, can't I!' cried Dick. 'You just wait
and see! And what's more I'm making Julian's like that too, so you clear off
and do your own, Anne — tuck in every corner, smooth the pillow, pat the
eiderdown — do what you like with your own bed, but leave me to make mine my
own way! Wait till we're off on our biking tour — you won't want to bother
about beds then — you'll roll up your sleeping-bag and that will be that!'
He finished his bed as he spoke, dragging on
the cover all crooked, and stuffing his pyjamas under the pillow. Anne laughed
and went to make her own. She was excited too. The days stretched before her,
sunny, full of strange places, unknown woods, big and little hills, chattering
streams, wayside picnics, biking in the moonlight — did Dick really mean that?
How wizard!
They were all very busy that day, packing up
into rucksacks the things they would need, folding up the tents into as small a
compass as possible to tie on to their carriers, ferreting in the larder for
food to take, looking out the maps they would want.
Timmy knew they were going off somewhere,
and, of course, felt certain he was going too, so he was as excited as they
were, barking and thumping his tail, and generally getting into everyone's way
all day long. But nobody minded. Timmy was one of them, one of the 'Five', he
could do almost everything but speak — it was quite unthinkable to go anywhere
without dear old Timmy.
'I suppose Timothy can keep up with you all
right, when you bike for miles?' Aunt Fanny asked Julian.
'Goodness yes,' said Julian. 'He never minds
how far we go. I hope you won't worry about us, Aunt Fanny. You know what a
good guard Timmy is.'
'Yes — I know,' said his aunt. 'I wouldn't
be letting you go off like this with such an easy mind if I didn't know Timmy
would be with you! He's as good as any grown-up at looking after you!'
'Woof, woof,' agreed Timmy. George laughed.
'He says he's as good as two grown-ups, Mother!' she said, and Timmy thumped
his big tail on the floor.
'Woof, woof, woof' he said. Which meant,
'Not two — but three!'
2
Away on their own
They were all ready the next day. Everything
was neatly packed and strapped to the bicycles, except for the rucksacks, which
each child was to carry on his or her back. The baskets held a variety of food
for that day, but when it had been eaten Julian was to buy what they needed.
'I suppose all their brakes are in order?'
said Uncle Quentin, thinking he ought to take some interest in the proceedings,
and remembering that when he was a boy and had a bicycle, the brakes would
never work.
'Oh Uncle Quentin — of course they're all
right,' said Dick. 'We'd never dream of going out on our bikes if the brakes
and things weren't in order. The Highway Code is very strict about things like
that, you know — and so are we!'
Uncle Quentin looked as if he had never even
heard of the Highway Code. It was quite likely he hadn't. He lived in a world
of his own, a world of theories and figures and diagrams — and he was eager to
get back to it! However, he waited politely for the children to make
last-minute adjustments, and then they were ready.
'Good-bye, Aunt Fanny! I'm afraid we shan't
be able to write to you, as you won't be able to get in touch with us to let us
know where you get fixed up. Never mind, enjoy yourselves,' said Julian.
'Good-bye, Mother! Don't worry about us —
we'll be having a jolly good time!' called George.
'Good-bye, Aunt Fanny; good-bye, Uncle
Quentin!'
'So long, Uncle! Aunt Fanny, we're off!'
And so they were, cycling down the lane that
led away from Kirrin Cottage. Their aunt and uncle stood at the gate, waving
till the little party had disappeared round the corner in the sunshine. Timmy
was loping along beside George's bicycle, on his long, strong legs, overjoyed
at the idea of a really good run.
'Well, we're off,' said Julian, as they
rounded the corner. 'What a bit of luck, going off like this by ourselves. Good
old Uncle Quentin! I'm glad he made that muddle.'
'Don't let's ride too many miles the first
day — I always get so stiff if we do.'
'We're not going to,' said Dick. 'Whenever
you feel tired just say so — it doesn't matter where we stop!'
The morning was very warm. Soon the children
began to feel wet with perspiration. They had sweaters on and they took them
off, stuffing them in their baskets. George looked more like a boy than ever,
with her short curly hair blown up by the wind. All of them wore shorts and
thin jerseys except Julian, who had on jeans. He rolled up the sleeves of his
jersey, and the others did the same.
They covered mile after mile, enjoying the
sun and the wind. Timmy galloped beside them, untiring, his long pink tongue
hanging out. He ran on the grassy edge of the road when there was one. He
really was a very sensible dog!
They stopped at a tiny village called
Manlington-Tovey. It had only one general store, but it sold practically
everything — or seemed to! 'Hope it sells ginger-beer!' said Julian. 'My
tongue's hanging out like Timmy's!'
The little shop sold lemonade, orangeade,
lime juice, grape-fruit juice and ginger-beer. It was really difficult to choose
which to have. It also sold ice-creams, and soon the children were sitting
drinking ginger-beer and lime-juice mixed, and eating delicious ices.
'Timmy must have an ice,' said George. 'He
does so love them. Don't you, Timmy?'
'Woof,' said Timmy, and gulped his ice down
in two big, gurgly licks.
'It's really a waste of ice-creams to give
them to Timmy,' said Anne. 'He hardly has time to taste them, he gobbles them
so. No, Timmy, get down. I'm going to finish up every single bit of mine, and
there won't be even a lick for you!'
Timmy went off to drink from a bowl of water
that the shopwoman had put down for him. He drank and he drank, then he flopped
down, panting.
The children took a bottle of ginger-beer
each with them when they went off again. They meant to have it with their
lunch. Already they were beginning to think with pleasure of eating the
sandwiches put up into neat packets for them.
Anne saw some cows pulling at the grass in a
meadow as they passed. 'It must be awful to be a cow and eat nothing but
tasteless grass,' she called to George. 'Think what a cow misses — never tastes
an egg and lettuce sandwich, never eats a chocolate eclair, never has a boiled
egg — and can't even drink a glass of ginger-beer! Poor cows!'
George laughed. 'You do think of silly
things, Anne,' she said. 'Now you've made me want my lunch all the more —
talking about egg sandwiches and ginger-beer! I know Mother made us egg
sandwiches — and sardine ones too.'
'It's no good,' chimed in Dick, leading the
way into a little copse, his bicycle wobbling dangerously, 'it's no good — we
can't go another inch if you girls are going to jabber about food all the time.
Julian, what about lunch?'
It was a lovely picnic, that first one in
the copse. There were clumps of primroses all round, and from somewhere nearby
came the sweet scent of hidden violets. A thrush was singing madly on a hazel
tree, with two chaffinches calling 'pink-pink' every time he stopped.
'Band and decorations laid on,' said Julian,
waving his hand towards the singing birds and the primroses. 'Very nice too. We
just want a waiter to come and present us with a menu!'
 'Ah — the waiter!' said Julian, at once.
'What have you to offer us today, Bunny? A nice rabbit-pie?'
The rabbit scampered off at top speed. It
had caught the smell of Timmy nearby and was panic-stricken. The children
laughed, because it seemed as if it was the mention of rabbit-pie that had sent
it away. Timmy stared at the disappearing rabbit, but made no move to go after
it.
'Well, Timmy!  'You must be hot and tired.
Got anything for him to eat, George?'
'Of course,' said George. 'I made his
sandwiches myself.'
And so she had! She had bought sausage meat
at the butchers and had actually made Timmy twelve sandwiches with it, all
neatly cut and packed.
The others laughed. George never minded
taking trouble over Timmy. He wolfed his sandwiches eagerly, and thumped his
tail hard on the mossy ground. They all sat and munched happily, perfectly
contented to be together out in the open air, eating a wonderful lunch.
Anne gave a scream. 'George! Look what
you're doing! You're eating one of Timmy's sandwiches!'
'Urhh!' said George. 'I thought it tasted a
bit strong. I must have given Timmy one of mine and taken his instead. Sorry,
Tim!'
'Woof,' said Tim politely, and accepted
another of his sandwiches.
'At the rate he eats them he wouldn't really
notice if he had twenty or fifty,' remarked Julian. 'He's had all his now,
hasn't he? Well, look out, everybody — he'll be after ours. Aha — the band has
struck up again!'
Everyone listened to the thrush. 'Mind how
you go,' sang the thrush. 'Mind how you go! Mind how you do-it, do-it, do-it!'
'Sounds like a Safety First poster,' said
Dick, and settled down with his head on a cushion of moss. 'All right, old bird
— we'll mind how we go — but we're going to have a bit of a snooze now, so
don't play the band too loudly!'
'It would be a good idea to have a bit of a
rest,' said Julian, yawning. 'We've done pretty well, so far. We don't want to
tire ourselves out the very first day.
Timmy removed himself. He went to George and
flumped himself down beside her, licking her face. She pushed him away.
'Don't be so licky,' she said, sleepily,
'just be on guard like a good dog, and see that nobody comes along and steals
our bikes.'
Timmy knew what 'on guard' meant, of course.
He sat up straight when he heard the words, and looked carefully all round,
sniffing as he did so. Anyone about? No. Not a sight, sound or smell of any
stranger. Timmy lay down again, one ear cocked, and one eye very slightly open.
George always thought it was marvellous the way he could be asleep with one ear
and eye and awake with the others. She was about to say this to Dick and Julian
when she saw that they were sound asleep.
She fell asleep too. Nobody came to disturb
them. A small robin hopped near inquisitively, and, with his head on one side,
considered whether or not it would be a good thing to pull a few hairs out of
Timmy's tail to line his new nest. The slit in Timmy's awake-eye widened a
little — woe betide the robin if he tried any funny tricks on Timmy!
The robin flew off. The thrush sang a little
more, and the rabbit came out again. Timmy's eye opened wide. The rabbit fled.
Timmy gave a tiny snore. Was he awake or was he asleep? The rabbit wasn't going
to wait and find out!
It was half past three when they all awoke
one by one. Julian looked at his watch. 'It's almost tea-time!' he said, and
Anne gave a little squeal.
'Oh no — why we've only just had lunch, and
I'm still as full as can be!'
Julian grinned. 'It's all right. We'll go by
our tummies for our meals, not by our watches, Anne.  We'll go
without you if you don't.'
They wheeled their bicycles out of the
primrose copse and mounted again. The breeze was lovely to feel on their faces.
Anne gave a little groan.
'Oh dear — I feel a bit stiff already. Do
you mean to go very many miles more, Ju?'
'No, not many,' said Julian. 'I thought we'd
have tea somewhere when we feel like it — and then do a bit of shopping for our
supper and breakfast — and then hunt about for a really good place to put up
our tents for the night. I found a little lake on the map, and I thought we
could have a swim in it if we can find it.'
This all sounded very good indeed. George
felt she could cycle for miles if a swim in a lake was at the end of it.
'That's a very nice plan of yours,' she
said, approvingly. 'Very nice indeed. I think our whole tour ought to be
planned round lakes — so that we can always have a swim, night and morning!'
'Woof,' said Timmy, running beside George's
bicycle. 'Woof!'
'Timmy agrees too,' said George, with a
laugh. 'But oh dear — I don't believe he brought his bathing-towel!'
3
A lovely day — and a lovely night
The five of them had a lovely time that
evening. They had tea about half past five, and then bought what they wanted
for supper and breakfast.
'Let's hope we don't eat it all for supper,
and have no breakfast left,' said George, packing the sandwiches into her
basket. 'Get down, Timmy. These sandwiches are not for you. I've bought you a
whacking big bone — that will keep you busy for hours!'
'Well, don't let him have it when we settle
down for the night,' said Anne. 'He makes such a row, crunching and munching.
He'd keep me awake.'
'Nothing would keep me awake tonight,' said
Dick. 'I believe I could sleep through an earthquake. I'm already thinking
kindly of my sleeping-bag.'
'I don't think we need to put up our tents
tonight,' said Julian, looking up at the perfectly clear sky. 'I'll ask someone
what the weather forecast was on the radio at six. Honestly I think we could
just snuggle into our sleeping-bags and have the sky for a roof.'
'How smashing!' said Anne. 'I'd love to lie
and look at the stars.'
The weather forecast was good. 'Fine and
clear and mild'.
'Good,' said Julian. 'That will save us a
lot of trouble — we don't even need to unpack our tents. Come on — have we got
everything now? Does anyone feel as if we ought to buy any more food?'
The baskets were all full. Nobody thought it
advisable to try and get anything more into them.
'We could get lots more in if Timmy would
only carry his own bones,' said Anne. 'Half my basket is crammed with enormous
bones for him. Why can't you rig up something so that Timmy could carry his own
food, George? I'm sure he's clever enough.'
'Yes, he's clever enough,' said George. 'But
he's much too greedy, Anne. You know that. He'd stop and eat all his food at
once if he had to carry it. Dogs seem to be able to eat anything at any time.'
'They're lucky,' said Dick. 'Wish I could.
But I just have to pause between my meals!'
'Now for the lake,' said Julian, folding up
the map which he had just been examining. 'It's only about five miles away.
It's called the Green Pool, but it looks a good bit bigger than a pool. I could
do with a bathe. I'm so hot and sticky.'
They came to the lake at about half past
seven. It was in a lovely place, and had beside it a small hut which was
obviously used in summer-time for bathers to change into bathing-suits. Now it
was locked, and curtains were drawn across the windows.
'I suppose we can go in for a dip if we
like?' said Dick rather doubtfully. 'We shan't be trespassing or anything,
shall we?'
'No. It doesn't say anything about being
private,' said Julian. 'The water won't be very warm, you know, because it's
only mid-April! But after all, we're used to cold baths every morning, and I
daresay the sun has taken the chill off the lake. Come on — let's get into
bathing-things.'
They changed behind the bushes and then ran
down to the lake. The water was certainly very cold indeed. Anne skipped in and
out, and wouldn't do any more than that.
George joined the boys in a swim, and they
all came out glowing and laughing. 'Brrr, that was cold!' said Dick. 'Come on —
let's have a sharp run. Look at Anne — dressed already. Timmy, where are you?
You don't mind the cold water, do you?'
 Anne was getting the supper ready. The sun
had disappeared now, and although the evening was still very mild the radiant
warmth of the day had gone. Anne was glad of her sweater.
'Good old Anne,' said Dick, when at last he
and the others joined her, dressed again, with their sweaters on for warmth.
'Look, she's got the food all ready.
I bet if we stayed here for more than one night Anne would have made some kind
of larder, and have arranged a good place to wash everything — and be looking
for somewhere to keep her dusters and broom!'
'You're so silly, Dick,' said Anne. 'You ought
to be glad I like messing about with the food and getting it ready for you. Oh
TIMMY! Shoo! Get away! Look at him, he's shaken millions and millions of drops
of lakewater all over the food. You ought to have dried him, George. You know
how he shakes himself after a swim.'
'Sorry,' said George. 'Tim, say you're
sorry. Why must you be so violent about everything? If I shook myself like that
my ears and fingers would fly off into the air!'
It was a lovely meal, sitting there in the
evening light, watching the first stars come out in the sky. The children and
Timmy were all tired but happy. This was the beginning of their trip — and
beginnings were always lovely — the days stretched out before you endlessly,
and somehow you felt certain that the sun would shine every single day!
They were not long in snuggling into their
sleeping-bags when they had finished the meal. They had set them all together
in a row, so that they could talk if they wanted to. Timmy was thrilled. He
walked solemnly across the whole lot, and was greeted with squeals and threats.
'Timmy!  When I've had such a
big supper too!'
'TIMMY! You brute! You put all your great
big feet down on me at once!'
'George, you really might stop Timmy from walking
all over us like that! I only hope he's not going to do it all night long.'
Timmy looked surprised at the shouts. He
settled down beside George, after a vain attempt to get into her sleeping-bag
with her. George turned her face away from his licks.
'Oh Timmy, I do love you but I wish you
wouldn't make my face so wet. Julian, look at that glorious star — like a
little round lamp. What is it?'
'It's not a star really — it's Venus, one of
the planets,' said Julian, sleepily. 'But it's called the Evening Star. Fancy
you not knowing that, George. Don't they teach you anything at your school?'
George tried to kick Julian through her
sleeping-bag, but she couldn't. She gave it up and yawned so loudly that she
set all the others yawning too.
Anne fell asleep first. She was the smallest
and was more easily tired with long walks and rides than the others, though she
always kept up with them valiantly. George gazed unblinkingly at the bright
evening star for a minute and then fell asleep suddenly. Julian and Dick talked
quietly for a few minutes. Timmy was quite silent. He was tired out with his
miles and miles of running.
Nobody stirred at all that night, not even
Timmy. He took no notice of a horde of rabbits who played not far off. He
hardly pricked an ear when an owl hooted nearby. He didn't even stir when a
beetle ran over his head.
But if George had waked and spoken his name
Timmy would have been wide awake at once, standing over George and licking her,
whining gently! George was the centre of his world, night and day.
The next day was fair and bright. It was
lovely to wake up and feel the warm sun on their cheeks, and hear a thrush
singing his heart out. 'It might be the very same thrush,' thought Dick,
drowsily. 'He's saying, "Mind how you do-it, do-it, do-it!" just like
the other one did.'
Anne sat up cautiously. She wondered if she
should get up and have breakfast ready for the others — or would they want a
bathe first?
Julian sat up next and yawned as he wriggled
himself half out of his sleeping-bag. He grinned at Anne.
'Hallo,' he said. 'Had a good night? I feel
fine this morning!'
'I feel rather stiff,' said Anne. 'But it
will soon wear off. Hallo, George — you awake?'
George grunted and snuggled down farther in
her sleeping-bag. Timmy pawed at her, whining. He wanted her to get up and go
for a run with him.
'Shut up, Timmy,' said George from the depth
of her bag. I'm asleep!'
'I'm going for a bathe,' said Julian. 'Anyone
else coming?'
'I won't,' said Anne. 'It will be too cold
for me this morning. George doesn't seem to want to, either.   Sorry I
shan't be able to have anything hot for you to drink — but we didn't bring a
kettle or anything like that.'
Julian and Dick went off to the Green Pool,
still looking sleepy. Anne got out of her sleeping-bag and dressed quickly. She
decided to go down to the pool with her sponge and flannel and wake herself up
properly with the cold water. George was still in her sleeping-bag.
The two boys were almost at the pool. Ah,
now they could see it between the trees, shining a bright emerald green. It
looked very inviting indeed.
They suddenly saw a bicycle standing beside
a tree. They looked at it in astonishment. It wasn't one of theirs. It must
belong to someone else.
Then they heard splashings from the pool,
and they hurried down to it. Was someone else bathing?
A boy was in the pool, his golden head
shining wet and smooth in the morning sun. He was swimming powerfully across
the pool, leaving long ripples behind him as he went. He suddenly saw Dick and
Julian, and swam over to them.
'Hallo,' he said, wading out of the water.
'You come for a swim too? Nice pool of mine, isn't it?'
'What do you mean? It isn't really your
pool, is it? said Julian.
'Well — it belongs to my father, Thurlow
Kent,' said the boy.
Both Julian and Dick had heard of Thurlow
Kent, one of the richest men in the country. Julian looked doubtfully at the
boy.
'If it's a private pool we won't use it,' he
said.
'Oh come on!' cried the boy, and splashed
cold water all over them. 'Race you to the other side!'
And off all three of them went, cleaving the
green waters with their strong brown arms — what a fine beginning to a sunny
day!
4
Richard
Anne was astonished to find three boys in
the Green Pool instead of two. She stood by the water with her sponge and
flannel, staring. Who was the third boy?
The three came back to the side of the pool
where Anne stood. She looked at the strange boy shyly. He was not much older
than she was, and not as big as Julian or Dick, but he was sturdily made, and
had laughing blue eyes she liked. He smoothed back his dripping hair.
'This your sister?' he said to Julian and
Dick. 'Hallo there!'
'Hallo,' said Anne and smiled. 'What's your
name?'
'Richard,' he said. 'Richard Kent. What's yours?'
'Anne,' said Anne. 'We're on a biking tour.'
The boys had had no time to introduce
themselves. They were still panting from their swim.
'I'm Julian and he's Dick, my brother,' said
Julian, out of breath. 'I say — I hope we're not trespassing on your land as
well as on your water!'
Richard grinned. 'Well, you are as a matter
of fact. But I give you free permission! You can borrow my pool and my land as
much as you like!'
'Oh thanks,' said Anne. 'I suppose it's your
father's property? It didn't say "Private" or anything, so we didn't
know. Would you like to come and have breakfast with us? If you'll dress with
the others they'll bring you to where we camped last night.'
She sponged her face and washed her hands in
the pool, hearing the boys chattering behind the bushes where they had left
their clothes. Then she sped back to their sleeping-place, meaning to tidy up
the bags they had slept in, and put out breakfast neatly. But George was still
fast asleep in her bag, her head showing at the top with its mass of short
curls that made her look like a boy.
'George! Do wake up. Somebody's coming to
breakfast,' said Anne, shaking her.
George shrugged away crossly, not believing
her. It was just a trick to make her get up and help with the breakfast! Anne
left her. All right — let her be found in her sleeping-bag if she liked!
She began to unpack the food and set it out
neatly. What a good thing they had brought two extra bottles of lime-juice. Now
they could offer Richard one.
The three boys came up, their wet hair
plastered down. Richard spotted George in the bag as Timmy came over to meet
him. He fondled Timmy who, smelling that other dogs had been round Richard at
home, sniffed him over with great interest.
'Who's that still asleep?' asked Richard.
'That's George,' said Anne. 'Too sleepy to
wake up! Come on — I've got breakfast ready. Would you like to start off with
rolls and anchovy and lettuce? And there's lime-juice if you want it.'
George heard Richard's voice, as he sat
talking with the others and was astonished. Who was that? She sat up, blinking,
her hair tousled and short. Richard honestly thought she was a boy. She looked
like one and she was called George!
'Top of the morning to you, George,' he
said. 'Hope I'm not eating your share of the breakfast.'
'Who are you?' demanded George. The boys
told her.
'I live about three miles away,' said the
boy. 'I biked over here this morning for a swim. I say — that reminds me — I'd
better bring my bike up here and put it where I can see it. I've had two stolen
already through not having them under my eye.'
He shot off to get his bike. George took the
opportunity of getting out of her sleeping-bag and rushed off to dress. She was
back before Richard was, eating her breakfast. He wheeled his bicycle as he
came.
'Got it all right,' he said, and flung it
down beside him. 'Don't want to have to tell my father this one's gone, like
the others. He's pretty fierce.'
'My father's a bit fierce too,' said George.
'Does he whip you?' asked Richard, giving
Timmy a nice little titbit of roll and anchovy paste.
'Of course not,' said George. 'He's just got
a temper, that's all.'
'Mine's got tempers and rages and furies,
and if anyone offends him or does him a wrong he's like an elephant — never
forgets,' said Richard. 'He's made plenty of enemies in his lifetime. Sometimes
he's had his life threatened, and he's had to take a bodyguard about with him.'
This all sounded extremely thrilling.  I would be nice to talk to the other
boys at school about his father's 'bodyguard'.
'What's his bodyguard like?' asked Anne,
full of curiosity.
'Oh, they vary. But they're all big hefty
fellows — they look like ruffians, and probably are,' said Richard, enjoying
the interest the others were taking in him. 'One he had last year was awful —
he had the thickest lips you ever saw, and such a big nose that when you saw
him sideways you really thought he'd put a false one on just for fun.'
'Gracious!' said Anne. 'He sounds horrible.
Has your father still got him?'
'No. He did something that annoyed Dad — I
don't know what — and after a perfectly furious row my father chucked him out,'
said Richard. That was the end of him. Jolly good thing too. I hated him. He
used to kick the dogs around terribly.'
'Oh! What a beast!' said George, horrified.
She put her arm round Timmy as if she was afraid somebody might suddenly kick
him around too.
 They came to the conclusion that the tales Richard told were very
much exaggerated, and they listened with amusement, but not with such horror as
the two girls, who hung on every word that Richard said.
'Where's your father now?' said Anne. 'Has
he got a special bodyguard this very moment?'
'Rather! He's in America this week, but he's
flying home soon — plus bodyguard,' said Richard, drinking the last of his
lime-juice from the bottle. 'Ummm, that's good. I say, aren't you lucky to be
allowed to go off alone like this on your bikes — and sleep where you like. My
mother never will let me — she's always afraid something will happen to me.'
'Perhaps you'd better have a bodyguard too,'
suggested Julian, slyly.
'I'd soon give him the slip,' said Richard.
'As a matter of fact I have got a kind of a bodyguard.'
'Who? Where?' asked Anne, looking all round
as if she expected some enormous ruffian suddenly to appear.
'Well — he's supposed to be my holiday
tutor,' said Richard, tickling Timmy round the ears. 'He's called Lomax and
he's pretty awful. I'm supposed to tell him every time I go out — just as if I
was a kid like Anne here.'
Anne was indignant. 'I don't have to tell
anybody when I want to go off on my own,' she said.
'Actually I don't think we'd be allowed to
rush off completely on our own unless we had old Timmy,' said Dick, honestly.
'He's better than any ruffianly bodyguard or holiday tutor. I wonder you don't
have a dog.'
'Oh, I've got about five,' said Richard,
airily.
'What are their names?' asked George,
disbelievingly.
'Er — Bunter, Biscuit, Brownie, Bones — and
er — Bonzo,' said Richard, with a grin.
'Silly names,' said George, scornfully.
'Fancy calling a dog Biscuit.  'I don't stand people telling me I'm cracked.'
'Well, you'll have to stand me telling you,'
said George.  'Come on — you stand up.'
George leapt to her feet. Julian shot out a
hand and pulled her down again.
'None of that,' he said to Richard.  Evidently he and his father shared the same fierceness of
temper!
'Well, you don't fight girls,' said Julian,
scornfully. 'Or do you? Correct me if I'm wrong.'
Richard stared at him in amazement. 'What do
you mean?' he said. 'Girls? Of course I don't fight girls. No decent boy hits a
girl — but it's this boy here I want to fight — what do you call him? —
George.'
To his great surprise Julian, Dick and Anne
roared with laughter. Timmy barked madly too, pleased at the sudden ending of
the quarrel. Only George looked mutinous and cross.
'What's up now?' asked Richard, aggressively.
'What's all the fun and games about?'
'Richard, George isn't a boy — she's a
girl,' explained Dick at last. 'My goodness — she was just about to accept your
challenge and fight you, too — two fierce little fox-terriers having a scrap!'
Richard's mouth fell open in an even greater
astonishment. He blushed redder than ever. He looked sheepishly at George.
'Are you really a girl?' he said. 'You
behave so like a boy — and you look like one too. Sorry, George. Is your name
really George?'
'No — Georgina,' said George, thawing a
little at Richard's awkward apology, and pleased that he had honestly thought
her a boy. She did so badly want to be a boy and not a girl.
'Good thing I didn't fight you,' said
Richard, fervently. 'I should have knocked you flat!'
'Well, I like that,' said George, flaring up
all over again. Julian pushed her back with his hand.
 Where's the map? It's time we had a squint at it and decided what we
are going to do for today — how far we're going to ride, and where we're making
for by the evening.'
Fortunately George and Richard both gave in
with a good grace. Soon all six heads — Timmy's too — were bent over the map.
Julian made his decision.
'We'll make for Middlecombe Woods — see,
there they are on the map. That's decided then — it'll be a jolly nice ride.'
It might be a nice ride — but it was going
to be something very much more than that!
5
Six instead of five
'Look here,' said Richard, when they had
tidied up everything, buried their bits of litter, and looked to see that no
one had got a puncture in a tyre. 'Look here — I've got an aunt who lives in
the direction of those woods — if I can get my mother to say I can come with
you, will you let me? I can go and see my aunt on the way, then.'
Julian looked at Richard doubtfully. He
wasn't very sure if Richard really would go and ask permission.
'Well — if you aren't too long about it,' he
said. 'Of course we don't mind you coming with us. We can drop you at your
aunt's on the way.'
'I'll go straight off now and ask my
mother,' said Richard, eagerly, and he ran for his bicycle. 'I'll meet you at
Croker's Corner — you saw it on the map. That will save time, because then I
shan't have to come back here — it's not much farther than my home.'
'Right,' said Julian. I've got to adjust my
brakes, and that will take ten minutes or so. You'll have time to go home and
ask permission, and join us later. We'll wait for you; at least we'll wait for
ten minutes, at Croker's Corner. If you don't turn up we'll know you didn't get
permission.
Richard shot off on his bicycle, looking
excited. Anne began to clear up, and George helped her. Timmy got in everyone's
way, sniffing about for dropped crumbs.
'Anyone would think he was half-starved!'
said Anne. 'He had a lot more breakfast than I had.
Julian adjusted his brakes with Dick's help.
In about fifteen minutes they were ready to set off. They had planned where to
stop to buy food for their lunch, and although the journey to Middlecombe Woods
was a longer trip than they had made the day before, they felt able to cope
with more miles on the second day. Timmy was eager to set off too. He was a big
dog, and enjoyed all the exercise he was getting.
  They waddle and they puff.'
'Dick! Timmy's never been fat!' said George,
indignantly, and then stopped as she saw Dick's grin. He was pulling her leg as
usual. She kicked herself. Why did she always rise like that, when Dick teased
her through Timmy? She gave him a friendly punch.
They all mounted their bicycles. Timmy ran
ahead, pleased. They came to a lane and rode down it, avoiding the ruts. They
came out into a road. It was not a main road, for the children didn't like
those; they were too full of traffic and dust. They liked the shady lanes or
the country roads where they met only a few carts or a farmer's car.
'Now, don't let's miss Croker's Corner,'
said Julian. 'It should be along this way somewhere, according to the map.
George, if you get into ruts like that you'll be thrown off.'
'All right, I know that!' said George. 'I
only got into one because Timmy swerved across my wheel. He's after a rabbit or
something. Timmy! Don't get left behind, you idiot.'
Timmy bounded reluctantly after the little
party. Exercise was wonderful, but it did mean leaving a lot of marvellous
wayside smells unsniffed at. It was a dreadful waste of smells, Timmy thought.
They came to Croker's Corner sooner than they
thought. The signpost proclaimed the name — and there, leaning against the
post, sitting on his bicycle was Richard, beaming at them.
'You've been jolly quick, getting back home
and then on to here,' said Julian. 'What did your mother say?'
'She didn't mind a bit so long as I was with
you,' said Richard. 'I can go to my aunt's for the night, she said.'
'Haven't you brought pyjamas or anything
with you?' asked Dick.
'There are always spare ones at my aunt's,'
explained Richard. 'Hurray — it will be marvellous to be out on my own all day
with you — no Mr Lomax to bother me with this and that. Come on!'
They all cycled on together. Richard would
keep trying to ride three abreast, and Julian had to warn him that cyclists
were not allowed to do that. 'I don't care!' sang Richard, who seemed in very
high spirits. 'Who is there to stop us, anyway?'
'I shall stop you,' said Julian, and Richard
ceased grinning at once. Julian could sound very stern when he liked. Dick
winked at George, and she winked back. They had both come to the conclusion
that Richard was very spoilt and liked his own way. Well, he wouldn't get it if
he came up against old Julian!
They stopped at eleven for ice-creams and
drinks. Richard seemed to have a lot of money. He insisted on buying ice-creams
for all of them, even Timmy.
 Richard bought a magnificent chocolate cake he
saw in a first-class cake-shop.
'Gracious! That must have cost you a
fortune!' said Anne. 'How are we going to carry it?'
'Woof,' said Timmy longingly.
'No, I certainly shan't let you carry it,'
said Anne. 'Oh dear — we'll have to cut it in half, I think, and two people can
share the carrying. It's such an enormous cake.'
On they went again, getting into the real
country now, with villages few and far between. A farm here and there showed up
on the hillsides, with cows and sheep and fowls. It was a peaceful, quiet
scene, with the sun spilling down over everything, and the blue April sky
above, patched with great white cotton-wool clouds.
'This is grand,' said Richard. 'I say,
doesn't Timmy ever get tired? He's panting like anything now.'
'Yes. I think we ought to find somewhere for
our lunch,' said Julian, looking at his watch. 'We've done a very good run this
morning. Of course a lot of the way has been downhill. This afternoon we'll
probably be slower, because we'll be getting into hilly country.'
They found a spot to picnic in. They chose
the sunny side of a hedge, looking downhill into a small valley. Sheep and
lambs were in the field they sat in. The lambs were very inquisitive, and one came
right up to Anne and bleated.
'Do you want a bit of my bread?' asked Anne,
and held it out to the lamb. Timmy watched indignantly. Fancy handing out food
to those silly little creatures! He growled a little, and George shushed him.
Soon all the lambs were crowding round,
quite unafraid, and one even tried to put its little front legs up on to
George's shoulders! That was too much for Timmy! He gave such a sudden, fierce
growl that all the lambs shot off at once.
'Oh, don't be so jealous, Timmy,' said
George. 'Take this sandwich and behave yourself. Now you've frightened away the
lambs, and they won't come back.'
They all ate the food and then drank their
lime-juice and ginger-beer. The sun was very hot. Soon they would all be burnt
brown — and it was only April. How marvellous! Julian thought lazily that they
were really lucky to have such weather — it would be awful to have to bike
along all day in the pouring rain.
Once again the children snoozed in the
afternoon sun, Richard too — and the little lambs skipped nearer and nearer.

Timmy!' he began, if you leap on me again like that I'll . . .'
But it wasn't Timmy, it was a lamb! Julian
laughed to himself. He sat for a few minutes and watched the little white
creatures playing 'I'm king of the castle' with an old coop, then he lay down
again.
'Are we anywhere near your aunt's house?'
Julian asked Richard, when they once more mounted their bicycles.
'If we're anywhere near Great Giddings, we
shall soon be there,' said Richard, riding without his handlebars and almost
ending up in the ditch. 'I didn't notice it on the map.'
Julian tried to remember. 'Yes — we should
be at Great Giddings round about tea-time — say five o'clock or thereabouts.
We'll leave you at your aunt's house for tea if you like.'
'Oh no, thank you,' said Richard, quickly.
'I'd much rather have tea with you. I do wish I could come on this tour with
you. I suppose I couldn't possibly? You could telephone my mother.'
'Don't be an ass,' said Julian. 'You can
have tea with us if you like — but we drop you at your aunt's as arranged, see?
No nonsense about that.'
They came to Great Giddings at about ten
past five. Although it was called Great it was really very small. There was a
little tea-place that said 'Home-made cakes and jams', so they went there for
tea.
The woman who kept it was a plump, cheerful
soul, fond of children. She guessed she would make very little out of the tea
she served to five healthy children — but that didn't matter! She set to work
to cut three big plates of well-buttered slices of bread, put out apricot jam,
raspberry, and strawberry, and a selection of home-made buns that made the
children's mouths water.
She knew Richard quite well, because he had
sometimes been to her cottage with his aunt.
 It
was a lovely tea. Anne felt as if she wouldn't be able to eat any supper at all
that night! Even Timmy seemed to have satisfied his enormous appetite.
'I think we ought to pay you double price
for our gorgeous tea,' said Julian, but the woman wouldn't hear of it. No, no —
it was lovely to see them all enjoying her cakes; she didn't want double price!
'Some people are so awfully nice and
generous,' said Anne, as they mounted their bicycles to ride off again. 'You
just can't help liking them. I do hope I can cook like that when I grow up.'
'If you do, Julian and I will always live
with you and not dream of getting married!' said Dick, promptly, and they all
laughed.
'Now for Richard's aunt,' said Julian. 'Do
you know where the house is, Richard?'
'Yes — that's it over there,' said Richard,
and rode up to a gate. 'Well, thanks awfully for your company. I hope I'll see
you again soon! I have a feeling I shall! Good-bye!'
He rode up the drive and disappeared. 'What
a sudden good-bye!' said George, puzzled. 'Isn't he odd?'
6
Odd happenings
They all thought it really was a little odd
to disappear so suddenly like that, with just a casual good-bye. Julian
wondered if he ought to have gone with him and delivered him safely on the
door-step.
 'What do you think can happen to him from the front gate to the
front door!'
'Nothing, of course. It's just that I don't
trust that young fellow,' said Julian. 'You know I really wasn't sure he had
asked his mother if he could come with us, to tell you the truth.'
'I thought that too,' said Anne. 'He did get
to Croker's Corner so very quickly, didn't he? — and he had quite a long way to
go really, and he had to find his mother, and talk to her, and all that.'
'Yes. I've half a mind to pop up to the
aunt's house and see if she expected him,' said Julian. But on second thoughts
he didn't go. He would feel so silly if the aunt was there with Richard, and
all was well — they would think that he and the others ought to be asked in.
So, after debating the matter for a few
minutes they all rode off again. They wanted to get to Middlecombe Woods fairly
soon, because there were no villages between Great Giddings and Middlecombe, so
they would have to find the woods and then go on to find a farm-house somewhere
to buy food for supper and breakfast. They hadn't been able to buy any in the
shops at Great Giddings because it was early closing day, and they hadn't liked
to ask the tea-shop woman to sell them anything. They felt they had taken quite
enough of her food already!
They came to Middlecombe Woods, and found a
very fine place to camp in for the night. It was in a little dell, set with
primroses and violets, a perfectly hidden place, secure from all prying eyes,
and surely unknown even to tramps.
'This is glorious,' said Anne. 'We must be
miles away from anywhere: I hope we can find some farm-house or something that
will sell us food, though! I know we don't feel hungry now, but we shall!'
'I think I've got a puncture, blow it,' said
Dick, looking at his back tyre. 'It's a slow one, fortunately. But I think I
won't risk coming along to look for farmhouses till I've mended it.'
'Right,' said Julian. 'And Anne needn't come either. She looks a bit
tired. George and I will go. We won't take our bikes. It's easier to walk
through the woods. We may be an hour or so, but don't worry, Timmy will know
the way back all right, so we shan't lose you!'
Julian and George set off on foot, with
Timmy following. Timmy too was tired, but nothing would have made him stay
behind with Anne and Dick. He must go with his beloved George!
Anne put her bicycle carefully into the
middle of a bush. You never knew when a tramp might be about, watching to steal
something! It didn't matter when Timmy was there, because he would growl if a
tramp came within a mile of them. Dick called out that he would mend his
puncture now. He had found the hole already, where a small nail had gone in.
She sat near to Dick, watching him. She was
glad to rest. She wondered if the others had found a farmhouse yet.
Dick worked steadily at mending the
puncture. They had been there together about half an hour when they heard
sounds.
 'Can you
hear something?' he said to Anne. She nodded.
'Yes. Somebody's shouting. I wonder why!'
They both listened again. Then they
distinctly heard yells. 'Help! Julian! Where are you? Help!'
They shot to their feet. Who was calling
Julian for help? It wasn't George's voice. The yells grew louder, to
panic-stricken shrieks.
'JULIAN! Dick!'
'Why — it must be Richard,' said Dick,
amazed. 'What in the world does he want? What's happened?'
Anne was pale. She didn't like sudden
happenings like this. 'Shall we — shall we go and find him?' she said.
There was a crashing not far off, as if
somebody was making his way through the undergrowth. It was rather dark among
the trees, and Anne and Dick could see nothing at first. Dick yelled loudly.
'Hey! Is that you, Richard! We're here!'
The crashing noise redoubled. 'I'm coming!'
squealed Richard. 'Wait for me, wait for me!'
They waited. Soon they saw Richard coming,
stumbling as fast as he could between the trees. 'Here we are,' called Dick.
'Whatever's the matter?'
Richard staggered towards them. He looked
frightened out of his life. 'They're after me,' he panted. 'You must save me. I
want Timmy. He'll bite them.'
'Who's after you?' asked Dick, amazed.
'Where's Timmy? Where's Julian?' cried
Richard, looking round in despair.
They've gone to the farm-house to get some
food,' said Dick. They'll be back soon, Richard. Whatever's the matter? Are you
mad? You look awful.'
The boy took no notice of the questions.
'Where has Julian gone? I want Timmy. Tell me the way they went. I can't stay
here. They'll catch me!'
They went along there,' said Dick, showing
Richard the path. 'You can just see the tracks of their feet. Richard, whatever
is . . .?'
But Richard was gone! He fled down the path
at top speed, calling at the top of his voice, 'Julian! Timmy!'
Anne and Dick stared at one another in
surprise. What had happened to Richard? Why wasn't he at his aunt's house? He
must be mad!
'It's no good going after him,' said Dick.
'We shall only lose the way and not be able to find this place again — and the
others will miss us and go hunting and get lost too! What is the matter with
Richard?'
'He kept saying somebody was after him —
they were after him!' said Anne. 'He's got some bee in his bonnet about
something.'
'Bats in the belfry,' said Dick. 'Mad,
dippy, daft! Well, he'll give Julian and George a shock when he runs into them
— if he does! The odds are he will miss them altogether.'
'I'm going to climb this tree and see if I
can see anything of Richard or the others,' said Anne. 'It's tall, and it's
easy to climb. You finish mending your puncture. I should just love to know
what happens to Richard.'
Dick went back to his bicycle, puzzled. Anne
climbed the tree. She climbed well, and was soon at the top. She gazed out over
the countryside. There was an expanse of fields on one side, and woods
stretched away on the other. She looked over the darkening fields, trying to
see if a farm-house was anywhere near. But she could see nothing.
Dick was just finishing his puncture when he
heard another noise in the woods.
He listened.
The noise came nearer. It wasn't a crashing
noise, like Richard had made. It was a stealthy noise as if people were
gradually closing in. Dick didn't much like it. Who was coming? Or perhaps —
what was coming? Was it some wild animal — perhaps a badger and its mate? The
boy stood listening.
A silence came. No more movements. No more
rustling. Had he imagined it all? He wished Anne and the others were near him.
It was eerie, standing there in the darkening wood, waiting and watching.
He decided that he had imagined it all. He
thought it would be a very good idea if he lighted his bicycle lamp, then the
light would soon dispel his silly ideas! He fumbled about for it on the front
of his handlebars. He switched it on and a very comforting little glow at once
spread a circle of light in the little dell.
 There was absolutely no
mistake about them this time.
A brilliant light suddenly pierced through
the trees and fell on Dick. He blinked.
'Ah — so there you are, you little misery!'
said a harsh voice, and someone came striding over to the dell. Somebody else
followed behind.
'What do you mean?' asked Dick, amazed. He
could not see who the men were because of the brilliant torch-light in his
eyes.
'We've been chasing you for miles, haven't
we? And you thought you'd get away. But we'd got you all the time!' said the
voice.
'I don't understand this,' said Dick,
putting on a bold voice. 'Who are you?'
'You know very well who we are,' said the
voice. 'Didn't you run away screaming as soon as you saw Rooky? He went one way
after you, and we went another — and we soon got you, didn't we?
All this explained one thing clearly to Dick
— that it was Richard they had been after, for some reason or other — and they
thought he was Richard!
'I'm not the boy you're looking for,' he
said. 'You'll get into trouble if you touch me!'
'What's your name, then?' asked the first
man.
Dick told him.
'Oh — so you're Dick — and isn't Dick short
for Richard? You can't fool us with that baby-talk,' said the first man.
'You're the Richard we want, all right. Richard Kent, see?'
'I'm not Richard Kent!' shouted Dick, as he
felt the man's hand clutching his arm suddenly. 'You take your hands off me.
You wait till the police hear of this!'
'They won't hear of it,' said the man. 'They
won't hear anything at all! Come on — and don't struggle or shout or you'll be
sorry. Once you're at Owl's Dene we'll deal properly with you!'
Anne was sitting absolutely petrified up in
the tree. She couldn't move or speak. She tried to call out to poor Dick, but
her tongue wouldn't say a word. She had to sit there and hear her brother being
dragged away by two strange ruffians. She almost fell out of the tree in
fright, and she heard him shouting and yelling when he was dragged away. She
could hear the sound of crashing for a long time.
She began to cry. She didn't dare to climb
down because she was trembling so much she was afraid she would lose her hold
and fall.
She must wait for George and Julian to come
back. Suppose they didn't? Suppose they had been caught too? She would be all
by herself in the tree all night long. Anne sobbed up in the tree-top, holding
on tightly.
The stars came out above her head, and she
saw the very bright one again.
And then she heard the sound of footsteps
and voices. She stiffened up in the tree. Who was it this time? Oh let it be
Julian and George and Timmy; let it be Julian, George and Timmy!
7
Richard tells a queer tale
Julian and George had managed to find a little
farm-house tucked away in a hollow. A trio of dogs set up a terrific barking as
they drew near. Timmy growled and the hair rose up on his neck. George put her
hand on his collar.
'I won't go any nearer with Timmy,' she
said. 'I don't want him to be set on by three dogs at once!'
So Julian went down to the farm-house by
himself. The dogs made such a noise and looked so fierce that he paused in the
farm-yard. He was not in the least afraid of dogs, but these looked most
unpleasant, especially one big mongrel whose teeth were bared in a very
threatening manner.
A voice called out to him.
We don't want no strangers here. When strangers come our eggs and hens go too!'
'Good evening,' called Julian, politely. 'We
are four children camping out in the woods for the night. Could you let us have
any food? I'll pay well for it.'
There was a pause. The man pulled his head
in at the window he was shouting from, and was evidently speaking to someone
inside.
He stuck it out again. 'I told you, we don't
hold with strangers here, never did. We've only got plain bread and butter, and
we can give you some hardboiled eggs and milk and a bit of ham. That's all.'
'That'll do fine,' called Julian, cheerily.
'Just what we'd like. Shall I come and get it?'
'Not unless you want to be torn to pieces by
them dogs,' came back the voice. 'You wait there. I'll be out when the eggs is
done.'
'Blow,' said Julian, walking back to George.
'That means we'll have to kick our heels here for a while. What an unpleasant
fellow! I don't think much of his place, do you!'
George agreed with him. It was ill-kept, the
barn was falling to bits, rusty bits of machinery lay here and there in the
thick grass. The three dogs kept up a continual barking and howling, but they
did not come any nearer. George still kept her hand firmly on Timmy. He was
bristling all over!
'What a lonely place to live in,' said
Julian. 'No house within miles, I should think. No telephone. I wonder what
they'd do if somebody was ill or had an accident and needed help.'
'I hope they'll hurry up with that food,'
said George, getting impatient. 'It'll be dark soon. I'm getting hungry too.'
At last somebody came out of the tumble-down
farmhouse. It was a bearded man, stooping and old, with long untidy hair and a
pronounced limp.  Neither Julian nor George liked
him.
'Here you are,' he said, waving his three
dogs away behind him. 'Get back, you!' He aimed a kick at the nearest dog, and
it yelped with pain.
'Oh don't!' said George. 'You hurt him.'
'He's my dog, ain't he?' said the man,
angrily. 'You mind your own business!' He kicked out at another dog and scowled
at George.
'What about the food?' said Julian, holding
out his hand, anxious to be gone before trouble came between Timmy and the
other dogs. 'George, take Timmy back a bit. He's upsetting the dogs.'
'Well, I like that!' said George. 'It's
those other dogs that are upsetting him.'

Julian took the food which was done up
carelessly in old brown paper. 'Thanks,' he said. 'How much?'
'Five pounds,' said the old man,
surprisingly.
'Don't be silly,' said Julian. He looked
quickly at the food. 'I'll give you twenty-five pence for it, and that's more
than it's worth. There's hardly any ham.'
'I said five pounds,' said the man,
sullenly. Julian looked at him. 'He must be mad!' he thought. He held out the
food to the ugly old fellow.
'Well, take it back,' he said. 'I haven't
got five pounds to give you for food. Twenty-five pence is the most I can
spare. Good night.'
The old man pushed the food back, and held
out his other hand in silence. Julian fished in his pocket and brought out
twenty-five pence.  The man put the
money in his pocket.
'Clear off,' he said, suddenly, in a
growling voice. 'We don't want strangers here, stealing our goods.
Julian turned to go, half-afraid that the
extraordinary old man would set his dogs on him. The fellow stood there in the
half-dark, yelling abuse at Julian and George as they made their way out of the
farm-yard.
'Well! We'll never go there again!' said
George, furious at their treatment. 'He's mad as a hatter.'
'Yes. And I don't much fancy his food,
either,' said Julian. 'Still, it's all we'll get tonight!'
They followed Timmy back to the woods. They
were glad they had him, because otherwise they might have missed the way. But
Timmy knew it. Once he had been along a certain route Timmy always knew it
again. He ran on now, sniffing here and there, occasionally waiting for the
others to catch him up.
Then he stiffened and growled softly. George
put her hand on his collar. Somebody must be coming.
Somebody was coming! It was Richard on his
way to find them. He was still shouting and yelling, and the noise he made had
already come to Timmy's sharp ears. It soon came to Julian's, and George's too,
as they stood there waiting.
'Julian! Where are you? Where's Timmy? I
want Timmy! They're after me, I tell you; they're after me.'
'Listen — it sounds like Richard? said
Julian, startled. 'What in the world is he doing here? — and yelling like that
too! Come on — we must find out. Something's happened. I hope Dick and Anne are
all right.'
They ran up the path as fast as they could
in the twilight. Soon they met Richard, who had now stopped shouting, and was
stumbling along, half-sobbing.
'Richard! What's up?' cried Julian. Richard
ran to him and flung himself against him. Timmy did not go to him, but stood
there in surprise. George stared through the twilight, puzzled. What in the
world had happened?
'Julian! Oh Julian! I'm scared stiff,'
panted Richard, hanging on to Julian's arm.
'Pull yourself together,' said Julian, in
the calm voice that had made a good effect on Richard.  What's happened? Did you find your aunt was out or
something? And come racing after us?'
'My aunt's away,' said Richard, speaking in
a calmer voice. 'She . . .'
'Away!' said Julian, in surprise. 'But
didn't your mother know that when she said you could . . .?'
'I didn't ask my mother's permission to
come,' cried Richard. 'I didn't even go back home when you thought I did! I
just biked straight to Croker's Corner and waited for you.
This was said with a great air of bravado.
Julian was disgusted.
'I'm ashamed of you,' he said. 'Telling us
lies like that!'
'I didn't know my aunt was away,' said
Richard, all his sudden cockiness gone when he heard Julian's scornful voice.
'I thought she'd be there — and I was going to tell her to telephone my mother
and say I'd gone for a trip with you. Then I thought I'd come biking after you
and — and . . .'
'And tell us your aunt was away, and could
you come with us?' finished Julian, still scornfully.  I'd have sent you back at once; you might have known that.'
'Yes, I know. But I might have had a whole
night camping out with you,' said Richard, in a small voice. 'I've never done
things like that. I . . .'
'What I want to know is, what were you
scared of when you came rushing along, yelling and crying,' said Julian,
impatiently.
'Oh Julian — it was horrible,' said Richard,
and he suddenly clutched Julian's arm again. 'You see — I biked down back to my
aunt's gate — and out into the lane — and I was just going along the way to
Middlecombe Woods when a car met me. And I saw who was in the car!'
'Well, who?' said Julian, feeling as if he
could shake Richard.
'It was — it was Rooky!' said Richard, in a
trembling voice.
'Who's he?' said Julian, and George gave an
impatient click. Would Richard never tell his story properly?
'Don't you remember? — I told you about him.
He was the fellow with thick lips and a huge nose that my father had for a
bodyguard last year — and he chucked him out,' said Richard. 'He always swore
he'd have his revenge on my father — and on me too because I told tales about
him to Dad and it was because of that he was sacked. So when I caught sight of
him in the car I was terrified!'
'I see,' said Julian, seeing light. 'What
happened then?'
'Rooky recognized me, and turned the car
round and chased me on my bike,' said Richard, beginning to tremble again as he
remembered that alarming ride. 'I pedalled for all I was worth — and when I got
to Middlecombe Woods I rode into the path there, hoping the car couldn't
follow. It couldn't, of course — but the men leapt out — there were three of
them, two I didn't know — and they chased me on foot. I pedalled and pedalled,
and then I ran into a tree or something and fell off. I chucked my bike into a
bush, and ran into the thick undergrowth to hide.'
'Go on,' said Julian, as Richard paused.
'What next?'
'The men split up then — Rooky went one way
to find me, and the other two went another way. I waited till I thought they
were gone, then I crept out and tore down the path again, hoping to find you. I
wanted Timmy, you see, I thought he'd go for the men.'
Timmy growled. He certainly would have gone
for them!
'Two of the men must have been hiding,
waiting to hear me start up again,' went on Richard. 'And as soon as I began to
run, they chased after me. I put them off the trail, though — I dodged and hid
and hid and dodged — and then I came to Dick! He was mending a puncture. But
you weren't with him — and it was you and Timmy I wanted — I knew the men would
soon be catching me up, you see, so I tore on and on — and at last I found you.
I've never been so glad in my life.'
It was a most extraordinary story — but
Julian hardly paused to think about it. An alarming thought had come into his
head. What about Dick and Anne? What would have happened to them if the men had
suddenly come across them?
'Quick!' he said to George. 'We must get
back to the others! Hurry!'
8
What's the best thing to do?
Stumbling through the dark wood, Julian and
George hurried as best they could. Timmy hurried too, knowing that something
was worrying both his friends. Richard followed behind, half-crying again. He
really had been very much afraid.
They came at last to the little dell where
they had planned to spend the night. It was quite dark. Julian called loudly:
'Dick! Anne! Where are you?'
George had made her way to where she had
hidden her bicycle. She fumbled for the lamp and switched it on. She took it
off and flashed it round the dell. There was Dick's bicycle, with the puncture
repair outfit on the ground beside it — but no Dick, and no Anne! What had
happened?
'Anne!' yelled Julian, in alarm. 'Dick! Come
here! We're back!'
And
then a small trembling voice came down from the tree-top overhead.
'Oh Julian! Oh Julian! I'm here.'
'It's Anne!' yelled Julian, his heart
leaping in relief. 'Anne — where are you?'
'Up in this tree,' called back Anne, in a
stronger voice. 'Oh Ju — I've been so frightened, I didn't dare climb down in
case I fell. Dick . . .'
'Where is Dick?' demanded Julian.
A sob came down to him. 'Two horrible men
came — and they've taken him away. They thought he was Richard!'
Anne's voice became a wail. Julian felt that
he must get her down the tree so that she could be with them and be comforted.
He spoke to George.
'Shine that lamp up here. I'm going up to
fetch Anne.'
George silently shone the light of the lamp
on the tree. Julian went up like a cat. He came to Anne who was still clinging
tightly to a branch.
'Anne, I'll help you down. Come on, now —
you can't fall. I'm just below you. I'll guide your feet to the right
branches.'
Anne was only too glad to be helped down.
She was cold and miserable, and she longed to be with the others. Slowly she
came down, with Julian's help, and he lifted her to the ground.
She clung to him, and he put his arm round
his young sister. 'It's all right, Anne. I'm with you now. And here's George
too — and old Timmy.'
'Who's that? said Anne, suddenly seeing
Richard in the shadows.
'Only Richard. He's behaved badly,' said
Julian, grimly.  Now — tell us slowly and carefully about Dick and the two men,
Anne.'
Anne told him, not missing out anything at
all. Timmy stood near her, licking her hand all the time. That was very
comforting indeed! Timmy always knew when anyone was in trouble. Anne felt very
much better when she had Julian's arm round her, and Timmy's tongue licking
her!
'It's quite clear what's happened,' said
Julian, when Anne had finished her alarming tale. 'This man Rooky recognized
Richard, and he and the other two came after him, seeing a chance to kidnap
him, and so get even with his father. Rooky was the only one who knew Richard,
and he wasn't the man who caught Dick. The others got him — and they didn't
know he wasn't Richard — and of course, hearing that his name was Dick they
jumped to the conclusion that he was Richard — because Dick is short for
Richard.'
'But Dick told them he wasn't Richard Kent,'
said Anne, earnestly.
'Of course — but they thought he wasn't
telling the truth,' said Julian. 'And they've taken him off. What did you say
was the name of the place they were going to?'
'It sounded like Owl's Dene,' said Anne.
'Can we go there, Julian — if you told the men Dick was Dick and not Richard,
they'd let him go, wouldn't they?'
'Oh yes,' said Julian. 'In any case, as soon
as that fellow Rooky sets eyes on him he'll know there's a mistake been made. I
think we can get old Dick away all right.'
A voice came out of the shadows nearby.
'What about me? Will you take me home first? I don't want to run into Rooky
again.'
'I'm certainly not going to waste time
taking you home,' said Julian, coldly. 'If it hadn't been for you and your
tomfoolery we wouldn't have run into this trouble. You'll have to come with us.
I'm going to find Dick first.'
'But I can't come with you — I'm afraid of
Rooky!' wailed Richard.
'Well, stay here then,' said Julian,
determined to teach Richard a lesson.
That was even worse. Richard howled loudly.
'Don't leave me here! Don't!'
'Now look here — if you come with us, you
can always be dropped at a house somewhere, or at a police-station — and get
yourself taken home somehow,' said Julian, exasperated. 'You're old enough to
look after yourself. I'm fed up with you.'
Anne was sorry for Richard, although he had
brought all this trouble on them. She knew how dreadful it was to feel really
frightened. She put out a hand and touched him kindly.
'Richard!  Julian will see
that you're all right. He's just feeling cross with you now, but he'll soon get
over it.'
'Don't you be too sure about that!' said
Julian to Anne, pretending to be sterner than he really felt. 'What Richard
wants is a jolly good hiding.  He tried to
hate Julian for saying such things to him — but oddly enough he couldn't. He
only respected and admired him all the more.
Julian said no more to Richard. He really
thought the boy was too feeble for words. It was a nuisance that they had him
with them. He would be no help at all — simply a tiresome nuisance.
'What are we going to do, Julian?' asked
George, who had been very silent. She was fond of Dick, and was very .worried
about him. Where was Owl's Dene? How could they possibly find it in the night?
And what about those awful men? How would they treat Julian if he demanded Dick
back at once? Julian was fearless and straightforward — but the men wouldn't
like him any the better for that.
'Well now — what are we going to do?'
repeated Julian, and he fell silent.
'It's no good going back to that farm, and
asking for help, is it?' said George, after a pause.
'Not a bit of good,' said Julian, at once.
'That old man wouldn't help anyone! And there's no telephone laid on, as we
saw. No — that farm's no good. What a pity!'
'Where's the map?' said George, a sudden
idea coming into her head. 'Would Owl's Dene be named on it, do you think?'
'Not if it's a house,' said Julian. 'Only
places are named there. You'd want a frightfully big map to show every house.'
'Well, anyway — let's look at the map and
see if it shows any more farms or villages,' said George, who felt as if she
must do something, even if it was only looking at a map. Julian produced the
map and unfolded it. He and the girls bent over it, by the light of the bicycle
lamp, and Richard peered over their shoulders. Even Timmy tried to look,
forcing his head under their arms.
'Get away, Tim,' said Julian. 'Look, here's
where we are — Middlecombe Woods — see? My word, we are in a lonely spot!
There's not a village for miles!'
Certainly no village was marked. The
countryside was shown, hilly and wooded, with a stream here and there, and
third-class roads now and again — but no village, no church, no bridge even was
marked anywhere.
Anne gave a sudden exclamation and pointed
to the contour of a hill on the map. 'Look — see what that hill's called?'
'Owl's Hill,' read out Julian. 'Yes — I see
what you're getting at, Anne. If a house was built on that hill it might be
called Owl's Dene, because of the name of the hill. What's more — a building is
marked there! It hasn't a name, of course. It might be a farm-house, an old
ruin — or a big house of some kind.'
'I think it's very likely that's where Owl's
Dene is,' said George. 'I bet it's that very house. Let's take our bikes and
go.'
A huge sigh from Richard attracted their
attention. 'Now what's the matter with you?' said Julian.
'Nothing. I'm hungry, that's all,' said
Richard.
The others suddenly realized that they too
were hungry. In fact, terribly hungry! It was a long, long time since tea.
Julian remembered the food he and George had
brought from the farm. Should they have it now — or should they eat some on
their way to Owl's Hill?
'Better eat as we go,' said Julian. 'Every
minute we waste means a minute of worry for Dick.'
'I wonder what they'd do with him, if Rooky
sees him and says he's not me, not the boy they want,' said Richard, suddenly.
'Set him free, I should think,' said George.
'Ruffians like that would probably turn him loose in a deserted countryside and
not care tuppence if he found his way home or not. We've absolutely got to find
out what's happened — whether he's at Owl's Dene, or been set free, or what.'
'I can't come with you,' suddenly wailed
Richard.
'Why?' demanded Julian.
'Because I haven't got my bike,' said
Richard, dolefully. 'I chucked it away, you remember — and goodness knows where
it is. I'd never find it again.'
'He can have Dick's,' said Anne. 'There it
is, over there — with the puncture mended too.'
'Oh yes,' said Richard, relieved. 'For one
frightful moment I thought I'd have to be left behind.'
Julian secretly wished he could be left
behind. Richard was more trouble than he was worth!
'Yes — you can take Dick's bike,' he said.
'But no idiotic behaviour with it, mind — no riding without handlebars, or any
errand boy tricks life that. It's Dick's bike, not yours.'
Richard said nothing. Julian was always
ticking him off. He supposed he deserved it — but it wasn't at all pleasant. He
pulled at Dick's bike, and found the lamp was missing. Dick, of course, had
taken it off. He hunted round for it and found it on the ground. Dick had let
it fall, and the switch had turned itself off when the lamp hit the ground.
When Richard pressed the switch down the lamp lighted again. Good!
'Now, come on,' said Julian, fetching his
bicycle too. 'I'll hand out food to eat as we go. We must try to find our way
to Owl's Hill as quick as ever we can!'
9
Moonlight adventure
The four of them rode carefully down the
rough, woodland path. They were glad when they came out into a lane. Julian
stopped for a moment to take his bearings.
'Now — according to the map, we ought to go
to the right here — then take the left at the fork some way down, and then
circle a hill by the road at the bottom — and then ride a mile or two in a
little valley till we come to the foot of Owl's Hill.'
'If we meet anyone we could ask them about
Owl's Dene,' said Anne, hopefully.
'We shan't meet anyone out at night in this
district!' said Julian. 'For one thing it's far from any village, and there
will be no farmer, no policeman, no traveller for miles! We can't hope to meet
anyone.'
The moon was up, and the sky cleared as they
rode down the lane. It was soon as bright as day!
'We could switch off our lamps and save the
batteries,' said Julian. 'We can see quite well we're out of the woods and in
the moonlight. Rather weird, isn't it?'
'I always think moonlight's queer, because
although it shines so brightly on everything, you can never see much colour
anywhere,' said Anne. She switched off her lamp too. She glanced down at Timmy.
 Julian smiled. It was nice to
hear Anne being cheerful again.
'Timmy's eyes are rather like head-lamps,
aren't they?' said Richard. 'I say — what about that food, Julian?'
'Right,' said Julian, and he fished in his
basket. But it was very difficult to get it out with one hand, and try to hand
it to the others.
'Better stop for a few minutes, after all,'
he said at last. 'I've already dropped a hard-boiled egg, I think! Come on —
let's stack our bikes by the side of the road for three minutes, and gulp down
something just to satisfy us for now.'
Richard was only too pleased. The girls were
so hungry that they too thought it a good idea. They leapt off their bicycles
in the moonlit road and went to the little copse at the side. It was a
pine-copse, and the ground below was littered with dry brown pine-needles.
'Let's squat here for a minute or two,' said
Julian. 'I say — what's that over there?'
Everyone looked. 'It's a tumbledown hut or
something,' said George, and she went nearer to see. 'Yes, that's all — some
old cottage fallen to bits. There's only part of the walls left. Rather an
eerie little place.'
They went to sit down under the pine-trees.
Julian shared out the food. Timmy got his bit too, though not so much as he
would have liked! They sat there in the pine shadows, munching hungrily as fast
as they could.
'I say — can anyone hear what I hear?' said
Julian, raising his head. 'It sounds like a car!'
They all listened. Julian was right. A car
was purring silently through the countryside! What a bit of luck!
'If only it comes this way!' said Julian.
'We could stop it and ask it for help. It could take us to the nearest
police-station at any rate!'
They left their food in the little copse and
went to the roadside. They could see no head-lights shining anywhere, but they
could still hear the noise of the car.
'Very quiet engine,' said Julian. 'Probably
a powerful car. It hasn't got its head-lights on because of the bright
moonlight.'
'It's coming nearer,' said George. 'It's
coming down this lane. Yes — it is!'
So it was. The noise of the engine came
nearer, and nearer. The children got ready to leap out into the road to stop
the car.
And then the noise of the engine died away
suddenly. The moon shone down on a big streamlined car that had stopped a
little way down the lane. It had no lights at all, not even side-lights. Julian
put out his hand to stop the others from rushing into the road and shouting.
'Wait,' he said. 'This is just a bit —
queer!'
They waited, keeping in the shadows. The car
had stopped not far from the tumbledown hut. A door opened on the off-side. A
man got out and rushed across the road to the shadow of the hedge there. He
seemed to be carrying a bundle of some kind.
A low whistle sounded. The call of an owl
came back. 'An answering signal!' thought Julian, intensely curious about all
this. 'I wonder what's happening?'
'Keep absolutely quiet,' he breathed to the
others. 'George, look after Timmy — don't let him growl.'
But Timmy knew when he had to be quiet. He
didn't even give a whine. He stood like a statue, ears pricked, eyes watching
the lane.
Nothing happened for a while. Julian moved
very cautiously to the shelter of another tree, from where he could see better.
He could see the tumbledown shack. He saw a
shadow moving towards it from some trees beyond. He saw a man waiting — the man
from the car probably. Who were they? What in the world could they be doing
here at this time of night?
The man from the trees came at last to the
man from the car. There was a rapid interchange of words, but Julian could not
hear what they were. He was sure that the men had no idea at all that he and
the other children were near. He cautiously crept to yet another tree, and
peered from the shadows to try and see what was happening.
'Don't be long,' he heard one man say.
'Don't bring your things to the car. Stuff them down the well.'
Julian could not see properly what the man
was doing, but he thought he must be changing his clothes. Yes — now he was
putting on the others — probably from the bundle the first man had brought from
the car. Julian was more and more curious.  Who was the
second man? A refugee? A spy?
The man who had changed his clothes now
picked up his discarded ones and went to the back of the shack. He came back
without them, and followed the first man across the lane to the waiting car.
Even before the door had closed, the engine
was purring, and the car was away! It passed by the pine-copse where the
children were watching, and they all shrank back as it raced by. Before it had
gone very far it was travelling very fast indeed.
Julian joined the others. Well — what do you
make of all that?' he said. 'Funny business, isn't it? I watched a man changing
his clothes — goodness knows why. He's left them somewhere at the back of the
shack — down a well, I think I heard them say. Shall we see?'
'Yes, let's,' said George, puzzled. 'I say,
did you see the number on the car. I only managed to spot the letters — KMF.'
'I saw the numbers,' said Anne. '102. And it
was a black Bentley.'
'Yes. Black Bentley, KMF 102,' said Richard.
'Up to some funny business, I'll be bound!'
They made their way to the ruined shack, and
pushed through overgrown weeds and bushes into the backyard. There was a
broken-down well there, most of its brickwork missing.
It was covered by an old wooden lid. Julian
removed it. It was still heavy, though rotten with age. He peered down the
well, but there was nothing at all to be seen. It was far too deep to see to
the bottom by the light of a bicycle lamp.
'Not much to be seen there,' said Julian,
replacing the lid. 'I expect it was his clothes he threw down. Wonder why he
changed them?'
'Do you think he could be an escaped
prisoner?' said Anne, suddenly. 'He'd have to change his prison clothes,
wouldn't he? — that would be the most important thing for him to do. Is there a
prison near here?'
Nobody knew. 'Don't remember noticing one on
the map,' said Julian. 'No — somehow I don't think the man was an escaped
prisoner — more likely a spy dropped down in this desolate countryside, and
supplied with clothes — or perhaps a deserter from the army.  'What a curious thing that we should just be nearby when this
happened! The men would never, never guess there were four children and a dog
watching just a few yards away.'
'Lucky for us they didn't know,' said
Julian. 'They wouldn't have been at all pleased! Now come on — we've wasted
enough time. Let's get back to our food. I hope Timmy hasn't eaten it all. We
left it on the ground.'
Timmy hadn't eaten even a crumb. He was
sitting patiently by the food, occasionally sniffing at it. All that bread and
ham and eggs waiting there and nobody to eat it!
'Good dog,' said George. 'You're very, very
trustable, Timmy. You shall have a big bit of bread and ham for your reward.'
Timmy gulped it down in one mouthful, but
there was no more for him to have. The others only just had enough for
themselves, and ate every crumb. They rose to their feet in a very few minutes
and went to get their bicycles.
'Now for Owl's Hill again,' Julian. 'And
let's hope we don't come across any more queer happenings tonight. We've had
quite enough.'
10
Owl's Dene on Owl's Hill
Off they went again, cycling fast in the
brilliant moonlight. Even when the moon went behind a cloud it was still light
enough to ride without lights. They rode for what seemed like miles, and then
came to a steep hill.
'Is this Owl's Hill?' said Anne, as they
dismounted to walk up it. It was too steep to ride.
'Yes,' said Julian. 'At least, I think so —
unless we've come quite wrong. But I don't think we have. Now the thing is —
shall we find Owl's Dene at the top or not? And how shall we know it is Owl's
Dene!'
'We could ring the bell and ask,' said Anne.
Julian laughed. That was so like Anne.
'Maybe we'll have to do that!' he said. 'But we'll scout round a bit first.'
They pushed their bicycles up the steep
road. Hedges bordered each side, and fields lay beyond. There were no animals
in them that the children could see — no horses, sheep or cows.
'Look!' said Anne, suddenly. 'I can see a
building — at least, I'm sure I can see chimneys!'
They looked where she pointed. Yes —
certainly they were chimneys — tall, brick chimneys that looked old.
'Looks like an Elizabethan mansion, with
chimneys like that,' said Julian. He paused and took a good look. 'It must be a
big place. We ought to come to a drive or something soon.'
They pushed on with their bicycles.
Gradually the house came into view. It was more like a mansion, and in the
moonlight it looked old, rather grand and very beautiful.
'There are the gates,' said Julian,
thankfully. He was tired of pushing his bicycle up the hill. 'They're shut.
Hope they're not locked!'
As they drew near to the great, wrought-iron
gates, they slowly opened. The children paused in surprise. Why were they
opening? Not for them, that was certain!
Then they heard the sound of a car in the
distance. Of course, that was what the gates were opening for. The car,
however, was not coming up the hill — it was coming down the drive on the other
side of the gates.
'Get out of sight, quickly,' said Julian.
'We don't want to be seen yet.'
They crouched down in the ditch with their
bicycles as a car came slowly out of the open gates. Julian gave an exclamation
and nudged George.
'See that? It's the black Bentley again — KMF
102!'
'How mysterious!' said George, surprised.
'What's it doing rushing about the country at night and picking up stray men!
Taking them to this place too. I wonder if it is Owl's Dene.'
The car went by and disappeared round a bend
in the hill. The children came out of the ditch with Timmy and their bicycles.
'Let's walk cautiously up to the gates,'
said Julian. 'They're still open. Funny how they opened when the car came. I
never saw anyone by them!'
They walked boldly up to the open gates.
'Look!' said Julian, pointing up to the
great brick posts from which the gates were hung. They all looked, and
exclaimed at the name shining there.
'Well! So it is Owl's Dene, after all!'
'There's the name in brass letters — Owl's
Dene! We've found it!'
'Come on,' said Julian, wheeling his bicycle
through the gateway. 'We'll go in and snoop round. We might be lucky enough to
find old Dick somewhere about.'
They all went through the gates — and then
Anne clutched Julian in fright. She pointed silently behind them.
The gates were closing again! But nobody was
there to shut them. They closed silently and smoothly all by themselves. There
was something very weird about that.
'Who's shutting them?' whispered Anne, in a
scared voice.
'I think it must be done by machinery,'
whispered back Julian. 'Probably worked from the house. Let's go back and see
if we can find any machinery that works them.'
They left their bicycles by the side of the
drive and walked back to the gates. Julian looked for a handle or latch to open
them. But there was none.
He pulled at the gates. They did not budge.
It was quite impossible to open them. They had been shut and locked by some
kind of machinery, and nothing and nobody could open them but that special
machinery.
'Blow!' said Julian, and he sounded so angry
that the others looked at him in surprise.
'Well, don't you see? — we're locked in!
We're as much prisoners here as Dick is, if he's here too. We can't get out
through the gates — and if you take a look you'll see a high wall running round
the property from the gates — and I don't mind betting it goes the whole way
round. We can't get out even if we want to.'
They went back thoughtfully to their
bicycles. 'Better wheel them a little way into the trees and leave them,' said
Julian. 'They hinder us too much now. We'll leave them and go snooping quietly
round the house. Hope there are no dogs.'
They left their bicycles well hidden among
the trees at the side of the wide drive. The drive was not at all well-kept. It
was mossy and weeds grew all over it. It was bare only where the wheels of cars
had passed.
'Shall we walk up the drive or keep to the
side?' asked George.
'Keep to the side,' said Julian. 'We should
easily be seen in the moonlight, walking up the drive.'
So they kept to the side, in the shadows of
the trees. They followed the curves of the long drive until the house itself
came into sight.
It really was very big indeed. It was built
in the shape of the letter E with the middle stroke missing — E. There was a
courtyard in front, overgrown with weeds. A low wall, about knee high, ran
round the courtyard.
There was a light in a room on the top
floor, and another one on the ground floor. Otherwise from that side the house
was dark.
'Let's walk quietly round it,' said Julian,
in a low voice. 'Goodness — what's that?'
It was a weird and terrible screech that
made them all jump in alarm. Anne clutched Julian in fright.
They stood and listened.
Something came down silently and brushed
George's hair. She almost screamed — but before she could, that terrible
screech came again, and she put out her hand to quieten Timmy, who was amazed
and scared.
'What is it, Ju!' whispered George.
'Something touched me then. Before I could see what it was it was gone.'
'Listen — it's all right,' whispered back
Julian. 'It's only an owl — a screech owl!'
'Good gracious — so it was,' breathed back
George, in great relief.  It's a barn-owl
— a screech owl out hunting. Anne, were you scared?'
'I should just think I was!' said Anne,
letting go her hold on Julian's arm.
'So was I,' said Richard, whose teeth were
still chattering with fear. 'I nearly ran for my life! I would have too, if I
could have got my legs to work — but they were glued to the ground!'
The owl screeched again, a little farther
away, and another one answered it. A third one screeched, and the night was
really made hideous with the unearthly calls.
'I'd rather have a brown owl any day,
calling To-whooo-oo-oo,' said George. 'That's a nice noise. But this screeching
is frightful.'
'No wonder it's called Owl's Hill,' said
Julian. 'Perhaps it's always been a haunt of the screech-owls.'
The four children and Timmy began to walk
quietly round the house, keeping to the shadows as much as they could.
Everywhere was dark at the back except two long windows. They were leaded
windows, and curtains were pulled across them. Julian tried to see through the
cracks.
He found a place where two curtains didn't
quite meet. He put his eye to the crack and looked in.
'It's the kitchen,' he told the others. 'An
enormous place — lighted with one big oil-lamp. All the rest of the room is in
shadow. There's a great fire-place at the end, with a few logs burning in it.'
'Anyone there?' asked George, trying to see
through the crack too. Julian moved aside and let her take her turn.
'No one that I can see,' he said. George
gave an exclamation as she looked, and Julian pushed her aside to look in
again.
He saw a man walking into the room — a
queer, dwarf-like fellow, with a hunched back that seemed to force his head on
one side. He had a very evil face. Behind him came a woman — thin, drab and the
picture of misery.
The man flung himself into a chair and began
to fill a pipe. The woman took a kettle off the fire and went to fill hot-water
bottles in a corner.
'She must be the cook,' thought Julian.
'What a misery she looks! I wonder what the man is — man-of-all-work, I
suppose.
The woman spoke timidly to the man in the
chair. Julian, of course, could not hear a word from outside the window. The
man answered her roughly, banging on the arm of the chair as he spoke.
The woman seemed to be pleading with him
about something. The man flew into a rage, picked up a poker and threatened the
woman with it. Julian watched in horror. Poor woman! No wonder she looked
miserable if that was the sort of thing that kept happening.
However, the man did nothing with the poker
except brandish it in temper, and he soon replaced it, and settled down in his
chair again. The woman said no more at all, but went on filling the bottles.
Julian wondered who they were for.
He told the others what he had seen. They
didn't like it at all. If the people in the kitchen behaved like that whatever
would those in the other part of the house be like?
They left the kitchen windows and went on
round the house. They came to a lower room, lighted inside. But here the
curtains were tightly drawn, and there was no crack to look through.
They looked up to the one room high up that
was lighted. Surely Dick must be there? Perhaps he was locked up in the attic,
all by himself? How they wished they knew!
Dared they throw up a stone? They wondered
if they should try. There didn't seem any way at all of getting into the house.
The front door was well and truly shut. There was a side door also tightly shut
and locked, because they had tried it. Not a single window seemed to be open.
'I think I will throw up a stone,' said
Julian at last. 'I feel sure Dick's up there, if he has been taken here — and
you're certain you heard the men say "Owl's Dene", aren't you, Anne?'
'Quite certain,' said Anne. 'Do throw a
stone, Julian. I'm getting so worried about poor Dick.'
Julian felt about on the ground for a stone.
He found one embedded in the moss that was everywhere. He balanced it in his
hand. Then up went the stone, but fell just short of the window. Julian got
another. Up it went — and hit the glass of the window with a sharp crack.
Somebody came to the pane at once.
Was it Dick? Everyone strained their eyes to
see — but the window was too far up. Julian threw up another stone, and that
hit the window too.
'I think it is Dick,' said Anne. 'Oh dear —
no it isn't after all. Can't you see, Julian?'
But the person at the window, whoever he
was, had now disappeared. The children felt a bit uncomfortable. Suppose it
hadn't been Dick? Suppose it had been someone else who had now disappeared from
the room to go and look for them?
'Let's get away from this part of the
house,' whispered Julian. 'Get round to the other side.'
They made their way round quietly — and
Richard suddenly pulled at Julian's arm. 'Look!' he said. 'There's a window
open! Can't we get in there?'
11
Trapped!
Julian
looked at the casement window. The moonlight shone on it. It certainly was a
little ajar. 'How did we miss that when we went round before?' he wondered. He
hesitated a little. Should they try to get in or not? Wouldn't it be better to
rap on the back door and get that miserable-looking woman to answer it and tell
them what they wanted to know?
On the other hand there was that
evil-looking hunchback there. Julian didn't like the look of him at all. No —
on the whole it might be better to creep in at the window, see if it was Dick
upstairs, set him free, and then all escape through the same open window.
Nobody would know. The bird would have flown, and everything would be all
right.
Julian went to the window. He put a leg up
and there he was astride the window. He held out a hand to Anne. 'Come on —
I'll give you a hand,' he said, and pulled her up beside him. He lifted her
down on the floor inside.
Then George came, and then Richard. George
was just leaning out to encourage Timmy to jump in through the window too, when
something happened!
A powerful torchlight went on, and its beam
shone right across the room into the dazzled eyes of the four children! They
stood there, blinking in alarm. What was this?
Then Anne heard the voice of one of the men
who had captured Dick, 'Well, well, well — a crowd of young burglars!'
The voice changed suddenly to anger. 'How
dare you break in here! I'll hand you over to the police.'
From outside Timmy growled fiercely. He
jumped up at the window and almost succeeded in leaping through. The man
grasped what was happening at once, and went to the open window.  Now Timmy couldn't get in!
'Let my dog in!' said George, angrily, and
stupidly tried to open the window again. The man brought his torch down sharply
on her hand and she cried out in pain.

'Look here,' began Julian, fiercely, 'what
do you think you're doing? We're not burglars — and what's more we'd be very,
very glad if you'd hand us over to the police!'
'Oh, you would, would you?' said the man. He
went to the door of the room and yelled out in a tremendous voice: 'Aggie!
AGGIE! Bring a lamp here at once.'
There was an answering shout from the
kitchen, and almost immediately the light of a lamp appeared shining down the
passage outside. It grew brighter, and the miserable-looking woman came in with
a big oil-lamp. She stared in amazement at the little group of children. She
seemed about to say something when the man gave her a rough push.
'Get out.  Do you
hear me?'
The woman scuttled out like a frightened
hen. The man looked round at the children in the light of the lamp. The room
was very barely furnished and appeared to be a sitting-room of some kind.
'So you don't mind being given up to the
police?' said the man. 'That's very interesting. You think they'd approve of
you breaking into my house?'
'I tell you, we didn't break in,' said
Julian, determined to get that clear, at any rate. 'We came here because we had
reason to believe that you've got my brother locked up somewhere in this house
— and it's all a mistake. You've got the wrong boy.'
Richard didn't like this at all. He was
terribly afraid of being locked up in the place of Dick! He kept behind the
others as much as possible.
The man looked hard at Julian. He seemed to
be thinking. 'We haven't a boy here at all,' he said at last. 'I really don't
know what you mean. You don't suggest that I go about the countryside picking
boys up and making them prisoners, do you?'
'I don't know what you do,' said Julian.
'All I know is this — you captured Dick, my brother, this evening in
Middlecombe Woods — thinking he was Richard Kent — well, he's not, he's my
brother Dick. And if you don't set him free at once, I'll tell the police what
we know.'
'And dear me — how do you know all this?'
asked the man. 'Were you there when he was captured, as you call it?'
'One of us was,' said Julian, bluntly. 'In
the tree overhead. That's how we know.'
There was a silence. The man took out a
cigarette and lighted it. 'Well, you're quite mistaken,' he said. 'We've no boy
held prisoner here. The thing is ridiculous. Now it's very, very late — would
you like to bed down here for the night and get off in the morning? I don't
like to send a parcel of kids out into the middle of the night. There's no
telephone here, or I'd ring your home.'
Julian hesitated. He felt certain Dick was
in the house. If he said he would stay for the night he might be able to find
out if Dick was really there or not. He could quite well see that the man
didn't want them tearing off to the police. There was something at Owl's Dene
that was secret and sinister.
'I'll stay,' he said at last. 'Our people
are away — they won't worry.'
He had forgotten about Richard for the
moment. His people certainly would worry! Still, there was nothing to do about
it. The first thing was to find Dick. Surely the men would be mad to hold him a
prisoner once they were certain he wasn't the boy. Perhaps Rooky, the ruffian
who knew Richard, hadn't yet arrived — hadn't seen Dick? That must be the
reason that this man wanted them to stay the night. Of course — he'd wait till
Rooky came — and when Rooky said, 'No — he's not the boy we want!' they'd let
Dick go. They'd have to!
The man called for Aggie again. She came at
once.
'These kids are lost,' said the man to her.
'I've said I'll put them up for the night. Get one of the rooms ready — just
put down mattresses and blankets — that's all. Give them some food if they want
it.'
Aggie was evidently tremendously astonished.
Julian guessed that she was not used to this man being kind to lost children.
He shouted at her.
'Well, don't stand dithering there. Get on
with the job. Take these kids with you.'
Aggie beckoned to the four children. George
hung back. 'What about my dog?' she said. 'He's still outside, whining. I can't
go to bed without him.'
'You'll have to,' said the man, roughly. 'I
won't have him in the house at any price, and that's flat.'
'He'll attack anyone he meets,' said George.
'He won't meet anyone out there,' said the
man. 'By the way — how did you get in through the gates?'
'A car came out just as we got there and we
slipped in before the gates closed,' said Julian. 'How do the gates shut? By
machinery?'
'Mind your own business,' said the man, and
went down the passage in the opposite direction.
'Pleasant, kindly fellow,' said Julian to
George.
'Oh, a sweet nature,' answered George. The
woman stared at them both in surprise. She didn't seem to realize that they
meant the opposite to what they said! She led the way upstairs.
She came to a big room with a carpet on the
floor, a small bed in a corner, and one or two chairs. There was no other
furniture.
'I'll get some mattresses and put them down
for you,' she said.
'I'll help you,' offered Julian, thinking it
would be a good idea to see round a bit.
'All right,' said the woman. 'You others
stay here.'
She went off with Julian. They went to a
cupboard and the woman tugged at two big mattresses. Julian helped her. She
seemed rather touched by this help.
'Well, thank you,' she said. 'They're pretty
heavy.'
'Don't expect you have many children here,
to stay, do you?' asked Julian.
'Well, it's funny that you should come just
after . . .' the woman began. Then she stopped and bit her lip, looking
anxiously up and down the passage.
Just after what?' asked Julian. Just after
the other boy came, do you mean?'
'Sh!' said the woman, looking scared to
death. 'Whatever do you know about that? You shouldn't have said that. Mr.
Perton will skin me alive if he knew you'd said that. He'd be sure I'd told
you. Forget about it.'
'That's the boy who's locked up in one of
the attics at the top of the house isn't it?' said Julian, helping her to carry
one of the mattresses to the big bedroom. She dropped her end in the greatest
alarm.
'Now! Do you want to get me into terrible
trouble — and yourselves too? Do you want Mr. Perton to tell old Hunchy to whip
you all? You don't know that man! He's wicked.'
'When's Rooky coming?' asked Julian, bent on
astonishing the woman, hoping to scare her into one admission after another.
This was too much for her altogether. She stood there shaking at the knees,
staring at Julian as if she couldn't believe her ears.
'What do you know about Rooky?' she
whispered. 'Is he coming here? Don't tell me he's coming here!'
'Why? Don't you like him?' asked Julian. He
put a hand on her shoulder. 'Why are you so frightened and upset? What's the
matter? Tell me. I might be able to help you.'
'Rooky's bad,' said the woman. 'I thought he
was in prison. Don't tell me he's out again. Don't tell me he's coming here.'
She was so frightened that she wouldn't say
a word more. She began to cry, and Julian hadn't the heart to press her with
any more questions. In silence he helped her to drag the mattresses into the
other room.
 'You'll find blankets in that cupboard over there if
you want to lie down.'
She disappeared. Julian told the others in
whispers what he had been able to find out. 'We'll see if we can find Dick as
soon as things are quiet in the house,' he said. 'This is a bad house — a house
of secrets, of queer comings and goings. I shall slip out of our room and see
what I can find out later on. I think that man — Mr Perton is his name — is
really waiting for Rooky to come and see if Dick is Richard or not. When he
finds he isn't I've no doubt he'll set him free — and us too.'
'What about me?' said Richard. 'Once he sees
me, I'm done for. I'm the boy he wants. He hates my father and he hates me too.
He'll kidnap me, take me somewhere, and ask an enormous ransom for me — just to
punish us!'
'Well, we must do something to prevent him
seeing you,' said Julian. 'But I don't see why he should see you — it's only
Dick he'll want to see. He won't be interested in what he thinks are Dick's
brothers and sisters! Now for goodness' sake don't start to howl again, or
honestly I'll give you up to Rooky myself.  'It's all because of you that
our trip is spoilt, that Dick's locked up — and poor Timmy's outside without
me.'
Richard looked quite taken aback. He shrank
into a corner and didn't say another word. He was very miserable. Nobody liked
him — nobody believed him — nobody trusted him. Richard felt very, very small
indeed.
12
Julian looks round
The woman brought them some food. It was
only bread and butter and jam, with some hot coffee to drink. The four children
were not really hungry, but they were very thirsty, and they drank the coffee
eagerly.
George opened the window and called softly
down to Timmy. 'Tim! Here's something for you!'
Timmy was down there all right, watching and
waiting. He knew where George was. He had howled and whined for some time, but
now he was quiet.
George was quite determined to get him
indoors if she could. She gave him all her bread and jam, dropping it down bit
by bit, and listening to him wolfing it up. Anyway, old Timmy would know she
was thinking of him!
'Listen,' said Julian, coming in from the
passage outside, where he had stood listening for a while. 'I think it would be
a good idea if we put out this light, and settled down on the mattresses. But I
shall make up a lump on mine to look like me, so that if anyone comes they'll
think I'm there on the mattress. But I shan't be.'
'Where will you be, then?' asked Anne.
'Don't leave us!'
'I shall be hiding outside in that
cupboard,' said Julian. 'I've a sort of feeling that our pleasant host, Mr
Perton, will come along presently to lock us in — and I've no intention of
being locked in! I think he'll flash a torch into the room, see that we're all
four safely asleep on the mattresses, and then quietly lock the door. Well — I
shall be able to unlock it when I come back from the cupboard outside — and we
shan't be prisoners at all!'
'Oh — that really is a good idea,' said
Anne, cuddling herself up in a blanket. 'You'd better go and get into the
cupboard now, Julian, before we're locked up for the night!'
Julian blew out the lamp. He tiptoed to the
door and opened it. He left it ajar. He went into the passage and fumbled his
way to where he knew the cupboard should be. Ah — there it was. He pulled at
the handle and the door opened silently. He slipped inside and left the door
open just a crack, so that he would be able to see if anyone came along the
wide passage.
He waited there about twenty minutes. The
cupboard smelt musty, and it was very boring standing there doing absolutely
nothing.
Then, through the crack in the door, he
suddenly noticed that a light was coming. Ah — somebody was about!
He peered through the crack. He saw Mr
Perton coming quietly along the corridor with a little oil-lamp held in his
hand. He went to the door of the children's bedroom and pushed it a little.
Julian watched him, hardly daring to breathe.
Would he notice that the figure on one of
the mattresses was only a lump made of a blanket rolled up and covered by
another blanket? Julian fervently hoped that he wouldn't. All his plans would
be spoilt if so.
Mr Perton held the lamp high in his hand and
looked cautiously into the room. He saw four huddled-up shapes lying on the
mattresses — four children — he thought.
They were obviously asleep. Softly, Mr
Perton closed the door, and just as softly locked it. Julian watched anxiously
to see if he pocketed the key or not. No — he hadn't! He had left it in the
lock. Oh good!
The man went away again, treading softly. He
did not go downstairs, but disappeared into a room some way down on the right.
 Then he heard another click. The man
evidently believed in locking himself in. Perhaps he didn't trust his other
comrade, wherever he was — or Hunchy or the woman.
Julian waited a while and then crept out of
the cupboard. He stole up to Mr Perton's room and looked through the keyhole to
see if the room was in darkness or not. It was! Was Mr Perton snoring? Not that
Julian could hear.
However Julian was not going to wait till he
heard Mr Perton snore. He was going to find Dick — and he was pretty certain
that the first place to look was in that attic upstairs!
'I bet Mr Perton was up there with Dick and
heard me throwing stones at the window,' thought Julian. 'Then he slipped down
and opened that window to trap us into getting in there — and we fell neatly
into the trap! He must have been waiting inside the room for us.
He was half-way up the flight of stairs that
led to the attics now — going very carefully and slowly, afraid of making the
stairs creak loudly. They did creak — and at every creak poor Julian stopped
and listened to see if anyone had heard!
There was a long passage at the top turning
at both ends into the side-wings. Julian stood still and debated — now which
way ought he to go? — where exactly was that lighted window? It was somewhere
along this long passage, he was certain. Well, he'd go along the doors and see
if a light shone out through the keyhole, or under the door anywhere.
Door after door was ajar. Julian peeped
round each, making out bare dark attics, or box-rooms with rubbish in. Then he
came to a door that was closed. He peered through the keyhole. No light came
from inside the room.
Julian knocked gently. A voice came at once
— Dick's voice. 'Who's there?'
'Sh! It's me — Julian,' whispered Julian.
'Are you all right, Dick?'
There came the creak of a bed, then the pattering
of feet across a bare floor. Dick's voice came through the door, muffled and
cautious.
'Julian! How did you get here? This is
marvellous! Can you unlock the door and let me out?'
Julian had already felt for a key — but
there was none. Mr Perton had taken that key, at any rate!
'No. The key's gone,' he said. 'Dick, what
did they do to you?'
'Nothing much. They dragged me off to the
car and shoved me in,' said Dick, through the door. 'The man called Rooky
wasn't there.  They
thought he might have gone off to see someone they meant to visit. So I haven't
seen him. He's coming tomorrow morning.  'I
wish he wasn't — because if Rooky happens to see him he'll be kidnapped, I'm
sure! The only hope is that Rooky will only see you — and as the other men
think we're all one family, they may let us all go. Did you come straight here
in the car, Dick?'
'Yes,' said Dick. 'The gates opened like
magic when we got here, but I couldn't see anybody. I was shoved up here and
locked in. One of the men came to tell me all the things Rooky was going to do
to me when he saw me — and then he suddenly went downstairs and hasn't come
back again.'
'Oh — I bet that was when we chucked stones
up at your window,' said Julian at once. 'Didn't you hear them?'
'Yes — so that was the crack I heard! The
man with me went across to the window at once — and he must have seen you. Now,
what about you, Ju? How on earth did you get here? are you all really here? I
suppose that was Timmy I heard howling outside.'
Julian quickly told him all his tale from
the time he and George had met the howling Richard to the moment he had slipped
up the stairs to find Dick.
There was a silence when he had finished his
tale. Then Dick's voice came through the crack.
'Not much good making any plans, Julian. If
things go all right, we'll be out of here by the morning, when Rooky finds I'm
not the boy he wants. If things go wrong at least we're all together, and we
can make plans then. I wonder what his mother will think when Richard doesn't
get home tonight.'
'Probably think he's gone off to the aunt's,'
said Julian. 'I should think he's a very unreliable person. Blow him! It was
all because of him we got into this fix.'
'I expect the men will have some
cock-and-bull story tomorrow morning, about why they got hold of you, when they
find you're not Richard,' went on Julian.  Anyway, whatever they say, we won't make
much fuss about it. We'll go quietly — and then we'll get things moving! I
don't know what's going on here, but it's something queer. The police ought to
look into it, I'm certain.'
'Listen — that's Timmy again,' said Dick.
'Howling like anything for George, I suppose. You'd better go, Julian, in case
he wakes up one of the men and they come out and find you here. Good-night. I'm
awfully glad you're near! Thanks awfully for coming to find me.'
'Good-night,' said Julian, and went back
along the corridor, walking over the patches of moonlight, looking fearfully
into the dark shadows in case Mr Perton or somebody else was waiting for him!
But nobody was about. Timmy's howling died
down. There was a deep silence in the house. Julian went down the stairs to the
floor on which the bedroom was where the others lay asleep. He paused outside
it. Should he do any further exploring? It really was such a chance!
He decided that he would. Mr Perton was fast
asleep, he hoped. He thought probably Hunchy and the woman had gone to bed too.
He wondered where the other man was, who had brought Dick to Owl's Dene. He
hadn't seen him at all. Perhaps he had gone out in that black Bentley they had
seen going out of the gate.
Julian went down to the ground floor. A
brilliant thought had just occurred to him. Couldn't he undo the front door and
get the others down, and send them out, free? He himself couldn't escape,
because it would mean leaving Dick alone.
Then he gave up the idea. 'No,' he thought.
'For one thing George and Anne would refuse to go without me — and even if they
agreed to get out of the front door, and go down the drive to the gates, how
would they undo them? They're worked by some machinery from the house.'
So his brilliant idea came to nothing. He
decided to look into all the rooms on the ground floor. He looked into the
kitchen first. The fire was almost out. The moonlight came through the cracks
of the curtains and lighted up the dark silent room. Hunchy and the woman had
evidently retired somewhere.
There was nothing of interest in the
kitchen. Julian went into the room opposite. It was a dining-room, with a long
polished table, candlesticks on the walls and mantelpiece, and the remains of a
wood fire. Nothing of interest there either.
The boy went into another room. Was it a
workroom, or what? There was a radiogram there, and a big desk.  Julian suddenly wondered if it would open the gates! Yes — that was
what it was for. He saw a label attached to it. Left Gate. Right Gate. Both
Gates.
'That's what it is — the machinery for
opening either or both of the gates.  He twisted the
handle — what would happen?
13
Strange secret
A curious groaning, whining noise began, as
some kind of strong machinery was set working. Julian hurriedly turned the
handle back. If it was going to make all that noise, he wasn't going to try his
hand at opening the gates! It would bring Mr Perton out of his room in a rush!
'Most ingenious, whatever it is,' thought
the boy, examining it as well as he could in the moonlight that streamed
through the window. He looked round the room again. A noise came to his ears
and he stood still.
'It's somebody snoring,' he thought. 'I'd
better not mess about here any more! Where are they sleeping? Somewhere not far
from here, that's certain.'
He tiptoed cautiously into the next room and
looked inside it. It was a lounge, but there was nobody there at all. He
couldn't hear the snoring there either.
He was puzzled. There didn't seem to be any
other room nearby where people could sleep. He went back to the workroom or
study. Yes — now he could hear that noise again — and it was somebody snoring!
Somebody quite near — and yet not near enough to hear properly, or to see. Most
peculiar.
Julian walked softly round the room, trying
to find a place where the snoring sounded loudest of all. Yes — by this
bookcase that reached to the ceiling. That was where the snoring sounded most
of all. Was there a room behind this wall, next to the workroom? Julian went
out to investigate. But there was no room behind the study at all — only the
wall of the corridor, as far as he could see. It was more and more mysterious.
He went back to the study again, and over to
the bookcase. Yes — there it was again. Somebody was asleep and snoring not far
off — but WHERE?
Julian
began to examine the bookcase. It was full of books jammed tightly together —
novels, biographies, reference books — all higgledy-piggledy. He removed some
from a shelf and examined the bookcase behind. It was of solid wood.
He put back the books and examined the big
bookcase again. It was a very solid affair. Julian looked carefully at the
books, shining in the moonlight. One shelf of books looked different from the
others — less tidy — the books not so jammed together. Why should just one shelf
be different?
Julian quietly took the books from that
shelf. Behind them was the solid wood again. Julian put his hand at the back
and felt about. A knob was hidden in a corner. A knob! Whatever was that there
for?
Cautiously Julian turned the knob this way
and that. Nothing happened. Then he pressed it. Still nothing happened. He
pulled it — and it slid out a good six inches!
Then the whole of the back of that
particular shelf slid quietly downwards, and left an opening big enough for
somebody to squeeze through! Julian Held his breath. A sliding panel! What was
behind it?
A dim flickering light came from the space
behind. Julian waited till his eyes were used to it after the bright moonlight.
He was trembling with excitement. The snoring now sounded so loud that Julian
felt as if the snorer must be almost within hand's reach!
Then gradually he made out a tiny room, with
a small narrow bed, a table and a shelf on which a few articles could dimly be
made out. A candle was burning in a corner. On the bed was the snorer. Julian
could not see what he was like, except that he looked big and burly as he lay
there, snoring peacefully.
'What a find!' thought Julian. 'A secret
hiding-place — a place to hide all kinds of people, I suppose, who have enough
money to pay for such a safe hole. This fellow ought to have been warned not to
snore! He gave himself away.'
The body did not dare to stay there any
longer, looking into that curious secret room. It must be built in a space
between the wall of the study and the wall of the corridor — probably a very
old hiding-place made when the house was built.
Julian felt for the knob. He pushed it back
into place, and the panel slid up again, as noiselessly as before. It was evidently
kept in good working order!
The snoring was muffled again now. Julian
replaced the books, hoping that they were more or less as he had found them.
He felt very thrilled. He had found one of
the secrets of Owl's Dene, at any rate. The police would be very interested to
hear about that secret hole — and perhaps they would be even more interested to
hear about the person inside it!
It was absolutely essential now that he and
the others should escape. Would it be all right if he went without Dick? No —
if the men suspected any dirty work on his part — discovered that he knew of
the secret hole, for instance — they might harm Dick. Regretfully Julian
decided that there must be no escape for him unless everyone, including Dick,
could come too.
He didn't explore any more. He suddenly felt
very tired indeed and crept softly upstairs. He felt as if he simply must lie
down and think. He was too tired to do anything else.
He went to the bedroom. The key was still in
the lock outside.  Mr Perton would find
the door unlocked the next morning, but probably he would think he hadn't
turned the key properly. Julian lay down on the mattress beside Richard. All
the others were fast asleep.
He meant to think out all his problems — but
no sooner had he closed his eyes than he was fast asleep. He didn't hear Timmy
howling outside once more. He didn't hear the screech owl that made the night
hideous on the hill. He didn't see the moon slide down the sky.
It was not Mr Perton who awoke the children
next morning, but the woman. She came into the room and called to them.
'If you want breakfast you'd better come
down and have it!'
They all sat up in a hurry, wondering where
in the world they were. 'Hallo!' said Julian, blinking sleepily. 'Breakfast,
did you say? It sounds good. Is there anywhere we can wash?'
'You can wash down in the kitchen,' said the
woman, sullenly, 'I'm not cleaning any bathroom up after you!'
'Leave the door unlocked for us to get out!'
said Julian, innocently. 'Mr Perton locked it last night.'
'So he said,' answered the woman, 'but he
hadn't locked it! It wasn't locked when I tried the door this morning. Aha! You
didn't know that, did you? You'd have been wandering all over the house, I
suppose, if you'd guessed that.'
'Probably we should,' agreed Julian, winking
at the others. They knew that he had meant to go and find Dick in the night,
and snoop round a bit — but they didn't know all he had discovered. He hadn't
had the heart to wake them and tell them the night before.
'Don't you be too long,' said the woman, and
went out of the door, leaving it open.
'I hope she's taken some breakfast up to
poor old Dick,' said Julian, in a low voice. The others came close to him.
'Ju — did you find Dick last night?'
whispered Anne. He nodded. Then, very quickly and quietly he told them all he
had discovered — where Dick was — and then how he had heard the snoring — and
discovered the secret panel — the hidden room — and the man who slept so
soundly there, not knowing that Julian had seen him.
'Julian! How thrilling!' said George.
'Whoever would have thought of all that?'
'Oh yes — and I discovered the machinery
that opens the gates too,' said Julian. It's in the same room. But come on — if
we don't go down to the kitchen that woman will be after us again. I hope
Hunchy won't be there — I don't like him.'
Hunchy, however, was there, finishing his
breakfast at a small table. He scowled at the children, but they took
absolutely no notice of him.
'You've been a long time,' grumbled the
woman. 'There's the sink over there, if you want to wash, and I've put a towel
out for you. You look pretty dirty, all of you.'
'We are,' said Julian, cheerfully. 'We could
have done with a bath last night — but we didn't exactly get much of a welcome,
you know.'
When they had washed they went to a big
scrubbed table. There was no cloth on it. The woman had put out some bread and
butter and some boiled eggs and a jug of steaming hot cocoa. They all sat down
and began to help themselves. Julian talked cheerfully, winking at the others
to make them do the same. He wasn't going to let the hunchback think they were
scared or worried in any way.
'Shut up, you,' said Hunchy, suddenly.
Julian took no notice. He went on talking, and George backed him up valiantly,
though Anne and Richard were too scared, after hearing the hunchback's furious
voice.
'Did you hear what I said?' suddenly yelled
Hunchy, and got up from the little table where he had been sitting. 'Hold your
tongues, all of you! Coming into my kitchen and making all that row! Hold your
tongues!'
Julian rose too.  'You hold
your tongue — or else be civil.'
'Oh, don't talk to him like that, don't,'
begged the woman, anxiously. 'He's got such a temper — he'll take a stick to
you!'
'I'd take a stick to him — except that I
don't hit fellows smaller than myself,' said Julian.
What would have happened if Mr Perton hadn't
appeared in the kitchen at that moment nobody knew! He stalked in and glared
round, sensing that there was a row going on.
'You losing your temper again, Hunchy?' he
said. 'Keep it till it's needed. I'll ask you to produce it sometime today
possibly — if these kids don't behave themselves!' He looked round at the
children with a grim expression. Then he glanced at the woman.
'Rooky's coming soon,' he told her. 'And one
or two others. Get a meal — a good one. Keep these children in here, Hunchy,
and keep an eye on them. I may want them later.'
He went out. The woman was trembling.
'Rooky's coming,' she half-whispered to Hunchy.
'Get on with your work, woman,' said the
dwarf. 'Go out and get the vegetables in yourself — I've got to keep an eye on
these kids.'
The poor woman scuttled about. Anne was
sorry for her. She went over to her. 'Shall I clear away and wash up for you?'
she asked. 'You're going to be busy — and I've nothing to do.'
'We'll all help,' said Julian. The woman
gave him an astonished and grateful glance. It was plain that she was not used
to good manners or politeness of any sort.
'Yah!' said Hunchy, sneeringly. 'You won't
get round me with your smarmy ways!'
Nobody took the slightest notice of him. All
the children began to clear away the breakfast things, and Anne and George
stacked them in the sink, and began to wash them.
'Yah!' said Hunchy again.
'And yah to you,' said Julian, pleasantly,
which made the others laugh, and Hunchy scowl till his eyes disappeared under
his brows!
14
Rooky is very angry
About an hour later there was a curious
grinding, groaning noise that turned to a whining. Richard, Anne and George
jumped violently. But Julian knew what it was.
The gates are being opened,' he told them,
and they remembered how he had described the machinery that opened the gates —
the curious wheel-like handle, labelled 'Left Gate. Right Gate. Both Gates'.
'How do you know that?' asked Hunchy at
once, surprised and suspicious.
'Oh, I'm a good guesser,' replied Julian
airily. 'Correct me if I'm wrong — but I couldn't help thinking the gates were
being opened — and I'm guessing it's Rooky that's coming through them!'
'You're so sharp you'll cut yourself one
day,' grumbled Hunchy, going to the door.
 If there was any answering back to
be done, Julian could always do it!
They all went to the window. George opened
it. Timmy was there, sitting just outside. George had begged the woman to let
him in, but she wouldn't. She had thrown him some scraps, and told George there
was a pond he could drink from, but beyond that she wouldn't go.
'Timmy,' called George, as she heard the
sound of a car purring quietly up the drive, 'Timmy — stay there. Don't move!'
She was afraid that Timmy might perhaps run
round to the front door, and go for anyone who jumped out of the car. Timmy
looked up at her inquiringly. He was puzzled about this whole affair. Why
wasn't he allowed inside the house with George? He knew there were some people
who didn't welcome dogs into their houses — but George never went to those
houses. It was a puzzle to him, too, to understand why she didn't come out to
him.
Still, she was there, leaning out of the
window; he could hear her voice; he could even lick her hand if he stood up on