quarry struck quite warm to them as they went down into it. The girls were
sound asleep still. Timmy, who had been with them, did not wake them. He had
been as puzzled as Julian and Dick over the low-flying plane, but he had not
barked at all. Julian had
been
glad about that, Timmy’s bark might have carried right over to the gypsy camp
and warned it that someone was camping near.
They
got back under their rug, keeping close to one another for warmth. But they
soon lost their shivers, and Dick threw off his share of the rug. In a few
minutes they were asleep.
Timmy
awoke first and stretched himself out in the warm morning sunshine. Anne sat up
with a little scream. ‘Oh Timmy, don’t! You nearly squashed me to bits. Do that
to George if you must stretch yourself all over somebody!’
The
boys awoke then, and went to the spring to splash their faces and bring back a
jugful of water to drink. Anne got the breakfast, and over it the boys told the
girls of the aeroplane in the night.
‘How
queer!’ said Anne. ‘And that glow too. It must have been a guide of some sort
to the plane. Let’s go and see where it was.  ‘I vote we go this morning, but we’ll take Tim with us in case we
meet those gypsies!’
Chapter
Fourteen
THE
GYPSIES ARE NOT PLEASED
Julian
and Dick went to stand where they had stood the night before, trying to see
exactly in what direction the glow had been.
‘I
think it was beyond the gypsies’ camp, to the left,’ said Julian. ‘What do you
think, Dick?’
‘Yes.
That’s about it,’ said Dick. ‘Shall we go now?’ He raised his voice. ‘We’re
going, George and Anne. Are you coming? We can leave our stuff here, tucked
away in the caves because we shan’t be very long.’
George
called back. ‘Julian, I think Timmy’s got a thorn in his foot or something.
He’s limping. Anne and I think we’ll stay here with him and try to get it out.
You go, but for goodness’ sake don’t get into trouble with the gypsies!’
‘We
shan’t,’ said Julian. ‘We’ve as much right on this moor as they have and they
know it. All right, we’ll leave you two here then with Timmy. Sure you don’t
want any help with his paw?’
‘Oh
no,’ said George. ‘I can manage, thank you.’
The
two boys went off, leaving Anne and George fussing over Timmy’s paw. He had
leapt into a gorse bush after a rabbit and a thorn had gone right into his left
fore-paw. Then it had broken off, leaving the point in poor Timmy’s pad. No
wonder he limped! George was going to have quite a time trying to ease out the
bit of thorn.
Julian
and Dick set off over the moor. It was a day like summer, far too warm for
April. There was not a single cloud to be seen in the sky, which was as blue as
forget-me-nots.  But that would mean carrying them, which would be an awful nuisance.
The
gypsy camp was not really far away. They soon came near to the curious hill
that stood up from the flatness of the moor. The caravans still stood in its
shelter, and the boys saw that a little group of men were sitting together,
talking earnestly.
‘I
bet they’re having a jaw about that aeroplane last night,’ said Dick. ‘And I
bet it was they who set that light or fire, or whatever it was, to guide it. I
wonder why it didn’t land.’
They
kept in the shelter of big gorse bushes, as they skirted the camp. They were
not particularly anxious to be seen. The dogs, sitting round the group of men,
apparently did not see or hear them, which was lucky.
The
boys made their way towards the place where they thought they had seen the
glow, some way to the left of the camp, and beyond it.
‘Doesn’t
seem to be anything out of the ordinary anywhere,’ said Julian, stopping and
looking round. ‘I was expecting to see a big burnt patch, or something.’
‘Wait
- what’s in that dip over there?’ said Dict, pointing to where the ground
seemed to dip downwards. ‘It looks like another old quarry, rather like the one
we’re camping in, but smaller, much smaller. I bet that’s where the fire was!’
They
made their way to the quarry. It was much more overgrown than theirs was, and
was evidently one that had been worked at an earlier time. It dipped down to
quite a pit in the middle and set there was something unusual. What was it?
The
boys scrambled down into the pit-like quarry and made their way to the middle.
They stared at the big thing that was set there, pointing to the sky.
‘It’s
a lamp, a powerful lamp of some kind,’ said Dick. ‘Like those we see making a
flare-path at an aerodrome, guiding planes in to land. Fancy seeing one here!’
‘How
did the gypsies get it?’ wondered Dick, puzzled. ‘And why signal to a plane
that doesn’t land? It looked as if it wanted to, circling round low like that.’
‘Maybe
the gypsies signalled that it wasn’t safe to land for some reason,’ said
Julian. ‘Or perhaps they were going to give something to the pilot and it
wasn’t ready.’
‘Well,
it’s a puzzle,’ said Dick. ‘I can’t imagine what’s going on. Something is,
that’s certain. Let’s snoop round a bit.’
They
found nothing else, except a trail that led to the lamp and back. Just as they
were examining it, a shout came to their ears. They swung round - and saw the
figure of a gypsy at the edge of the pit.
‘What
are you doing here?’ he shouted, in a harsh voice. He was joined by a few
others, and they all looked threateningly at Julian and Dick as they climbed
out of the pit.
Julian
decided to be honest. ‘We’re camping out on the moor for a night or two,’ he
said, ‘and we heard a plane last night, circling low. We also saw a glow that
appeared to be guiding it, and we came along to see what it was. Did you hear
the plane?’
‘Mebbe
we did and mebbe we didn’t,’ said the nearest gypsy, who was Sniffer’s father.
‘What of it? Planes fly over this moor any day!’
‘We
found that powerful lamp,’ said Dick, pointing back at it. ‘Do you know
anything about that?’
‘Nothing,’
said the gypsy scowling. ‘What lamp?’
‘Well,
as far as I can see there’s no charge for looking at it,’ said Julian. ‘Go and
have a squint, if you don’t know anything about it! But I can’t believe that
you didn’t see the light it gave last night! It’s a jolly good place to hide
it, I must say.’
‘We
don’t know anything about any lamp,’ said another gypsy, the old one with grey
hair. ‘This is our usual camping-place. We don’t interfere with anything or
anybody - unless they interfere with us. Then we make them sorry for it.’
The
boys at once thought of the long-ago mystery of the disappearance of the
Bartles. They felt quite uncomfortable.
‘Well,
we’re going now, so don’t worry,’ said Julian. ‘We’re only camping for a night
or two, as I said. We won’t come near here again, if you object to us.
He
saw Sniffer creeping up behind the men, with I.iz, who for some reason of her
own, was walking sedately on her hind-legs. Sniffer pulled at his father’s arm.
‘They’re
all right,’ he said. ‘You know our Clip got his leg made better at the stables.
They’re all right!’
All
he got was a savage cuff that sent him to the ground, where he rolled over and
over. Liz dropped down on all fours and went to lick him.
‘Here,
I say!’ said Julian, shocked. ‘Leave that kid alone! You’ve no right to hit him
like that!’
Sniffer
set up such a yelling that some of the women left the caravans not far off and
came running to see what was up. One of them began to shout at Sniffer’s father
and he shouted back.
‘Come
on, it’s a good time to go,’ said Julian to Dick. ‘What an unfriendly lot they
are, except poor Sniffer, and he was doing his best for us, poor kid.’
The
two boys went off quickly, glad to be away from the men and their dogs. They
were puzzled about everything. The men said they knew nothing about the lamp,
but they must know something about it. Nobody but a gypsy could have lighted it
last night.
They
went back to the girls and told them what had happened. ‘Let’s get back to the
stables,’ said Anne. ‘There’s something queer going on. We’ll be in the middle
of an adventure before we know where we are!’
‘We’ll
stay one more night,’ said Julian. ‘I want to see if that plane comes again.
Those gypsies don’t know where we’re camping and though Sniffer knows, I’m
pretty sure he won’t tell. It was plucky of him to try and stick up for us to
his father.’
‘All
right. We’ll stay,’ said George. ‘I’m not particularly anxious for Timmy to
have that long walk home today. I think I’ve got most of that thorn out of his
pad, but he still won’t put his foot to the ground.’
‘He’s
jolly clever at running about on three legs,’ said Dick, watching Timmy tearing
round the quarry, sniffing as usual for rabbits.
‘The
amount of quarrying that Timmy has done in this pit already is colossal!’ said
Julian, staring round at the places where Timmy had tried to get in at some
rabbit-hole and scrabbled out big heaps of sand. ‘He would have been a great
help to the Bartles when they dug out sand! Poor old Tim - your bad foot has
stopped you scraping for rabbits, hasn’t it!’
Timmy
ran over on three legs. He enjoyed all the fussing he got when anything
happened to him. He meant to make the most of his bad foot!
They
had a very lazy day indeed. It really was too hot to do anything much. They
went to the little spring and sat with their feet in the rivulet it made - it
was deliciously cool! They went and had a look at the old engine again, lying
on its side, half-buried.
Dick
scraped away a lot of the sand that had seeped into the cab. Soon they were all
helping. They uncovered the old handles and levers and tried to move them. But
they couldn’t of course.
‘Let’s
go round to the other side of the gorse bush and see if we can see the funnel
again,’ said Dick, at last. ‘Blow these thorns. I’m getting pricked all over.
Timmy’s very sensible, sitting there, not attempting to examine this old
Puffing Billy!’
They
had to cut away some of the gorse before they could examine the funnel
properly. Then they exclaimed in wonder.
‘Look!
It’s very like the long funnel that Puffing Billy had, you know, one of the
first engines ever made!’
‘It’s
filled with sand,’ said Dick, and tried to scrape it out. It was fairly loose,
and soon he was able to peer down the funnel quite a long way.
  I’d have thought someone would
rescue it!’
‘Well,
you know what the blacksmith told us,’ said George. ‘The Bartle sister that was
left wouldn’t have anything more to do with the railway or the engine or the
quarry. And certainly nobody could move this great thing on their own.’
‘I
shouldn’t be surprised if we’re the only people in the world who know where the
old engine is,’ said Anne. ‘It’s so overgrown that nobody could see it except
by accident!’
‘I
feel jolly hungry, all of a sudden,’ said Dick, stopping his work of getting
sand off the engine. ‘What about something to eat?’
‘We’ve
got enough to last for a day or two more,’ said Anne. ‘Then we’ll have to get
something else - or go back to the stables.’
‘I
must spend one more night here,’ said Julian. ‘I want to see if that plane
returns again.’
‘Right.
We’ll all watch this time,’ said George. ‘It will be fun. Come on, let’s go and
get something to eat. Don’t you think that’s a good idea, Timmy?’
Timmy
certainly did. He limped off at top speed on three legs, though really his
right fore-paw no longer hurt him. Timmy, you’re a fraud!
Chapter
Fifteen
A
STARTLING NIGHT
No
gypsies came near them that day, not even Sniffer. The evening was as lovely as
the day had been, and almost as warm.
‘It’s
extraordinary!’ said Dick, looking up into the sky. ‘What weather for April!
The bluebells will be rushing out soon if the sun goes on being as hot as
this!’
They
lay on the sand in the quarry and watched the evening star shine in the sky. It
looked very big and bright and round.
Timmy
scrabbled round in the sand. ‘His paw is much better,’ said George. ‘Though I
notice that he still sometimes holds it up.’
‘Only
when he wants you to say “Poor Timmy, does it hurt!” ’ said Dick. ‘He’s a baby,
likes to be fussed!’
They
talked for a while and then Anne yawned. ‘It’s early, I know - but I believe
I’m going to sleep.’
There
was soon a trek to the spring, and everyone sluiced themselves in the cool
water. There was only one towel between them, but that did very well. Then they
settled down in their sandy beds. The sand was beautifully warm and they did
not bother about putting down the rubber sheets. There could not possibly be
any dampness in that quarry after it had been baked so much by the hot sun!
‘I
hope we wake when that plane comes, if it does come,’ said Julian to Dick, as
they lay without any covering in their soft, sandy bed. ‘My goodness, isn’t it
hot! No wonder Timmy’s panting over there!’
They
went to sleep at last, but Dick awoke suddenly, feeling much too hot. Phew!
What a night!  But it was no use, he couldn’t go to sleep.
He
sat up cautiously, so as not to awake Julian. I think I’ll just go and have a
squint to see if that big lamp is lighted again, down in that pit by the gypsy
camp, he thought.
He
went to the edge of the quarry and climbed up. He looked towards the gypsy camp
and gave a sudden exclamation. Yes! he thought. It’s glowing again! I can’t see
the lamp, of course, but its light is so jolly powerful that I can easily see
the glow it makes. It must be very bright, looked down on from the sky. I
wonder if the plane is due to come now that the lamp is lighted.
He
listened, and yes, he could distinctly hear a low humming noise from the east.
It must be the plane coming again? Would it land this time, and if so, who was
in it?
He
ran to wake Julian and the girls. Timmy was alert at once, wagging his tail
excitedly. He was always ready for anything, even in the middle of the night!
Anne and George got up too, very thrilled.
‘Is
the lamp really alight again? And I can hear the plane too now! Oh, I say! This
is exciting! George, Timmy won’t bark and give us away, will he?’
‘No.
I’ve told him to be quiet,’ said George. ‘He won’t make a sound. Listen, the
plane is coming nearer!’
The
noise was now loud enough for them to search the starry sky for the plane.
Julian gave Dick a nudge. ‘Look, you can just see it, straight over where the
gypsy camp is!’
Dick
managed to pick it out. ‘It’s very small,’ he said. ‘Smaller even than I
thought it was last night. Look, it’s coming down!’
But
it wasn’t. It merely swept low, and then went round in a circle, as it had done
the night before. It rose a little again and then came in low once more, almost
over the boys’ heads.
Then
something extraordinary happened. Something fell not far from Julian, something
that bounced and then came to rest! It made a thud as it fell, and all four
jumped. Timmy gave a startled whine.
Thud!
Something else fell. Thud, thud, thud! Anne gave a squeal. ‘Are they trying to
bomb us or something. Julian, what are they doing?’
Thud!
Thud! Julian ducked at the last two thuds, they sounded so near. He took hold
of Anne and pulled her down into the quarry, calling to Dick and George.
‘Get
down here, quickly! Force yourselves into the caves somewhere! We shall get
hit!’
They
ran across the quarry as the plane swooped round in a circle once more and then
again began dropping the things that went ‘thud! thud!’. Some even fell into
the quarry this time.  He yelped and tore after George.
Soon
they were all safely squeezed into the little caves that lined the sides of the
quarry. The plane swept round once more, up and then round, and the
thud-thudding began again. The four could hear that some of the thuds were
actually in the quarry again and they were thankful they were well sheltered.
‘Well,
nothing is exploding,’ said Dick, thankfully. ‘But what on earth is the plane
dropping? And why? This is a most peculiar adventure to have.’
‘It’s
probably a dream,’ said Julian, and laughed. ‘No, not even a dream could be so
mad. Here we are, snuggling into sandy caves in a quarry on Mystery Moor, while
a plane drops something all round us in the middle of the night! Quite mad.’
‘I
believe the plane’s going away now,’ said Dick. ‘It’s circled round but hasn’t
dropped anything. Now it’s climbing, it’s going away! The engine doesn’t sound
nearly so loud. Goodness, when we were standing out there at the edge of the
quarry, I almost thought the plane would take my head off; it was so low!’
‘I
thought that too,’ said Anne, very glad that there was to be no more swooping
down and dropping dozens of unknown things. ‘Is it safe to go out?’
‘Oh
yes,’ said Julian, scrambling out of the sand. ‘Come on. We shall easily hear
if the plane comes back again. I want to see what it has dropped!’
In
great excitement they ran to get the parcels. The stars gave so much light on
that clear night that the four did not even need a torch.
Julian
picked up something first. It was a firm, flattish parcel, done up well, sewn
into a canvas covering. He examined it.
‘No
name. Nothing,’ he said. ‘This is most exciting. Let’s have three guesses
what’s inside.’
‘Bacon
for breakfast, I hope!’ said Anne at once.
‘Idiot,’
said Julian, getting out a knife to slit the string threads that sewed up the
canvas. ‘I guess it’s smuggled goods of some sort. That’s what that plane was
doing, I should think, flying over from France, and dropping smuggled goods in
a pre-arranged place, and I suppose the gypsies pick them up, and take them
away, well hidden in their caravans, to deliver them somewhere. Very clever!’
‘Oh
Julian, is that the explanation?’ said Anne. ‘What would be in the parcels
then, cigarettes?’
‘No,’
said Julian. ‘The parcels wouldn’t be so heavy if they only contained
cigarettes. There, I’ve slit the threads at last!’
The
others crowded round to see. George took her torch out of her pocket so that
they could see really well. She flashed it on.
Julian
ripped off the canvas covering. Next came some strong brown paper. He ripped
that off too.
Then
came strong cardboard, tied round with string. That was undone as well, and the
cardboard fell to the ground.
‘Now,
what have we got?’ said Julian, excited. ‘Thin sheets of paper, dozens and
dozens of them packed together. Shine your torch nearer, George.’
There
was a silence as all the four craned over Julian’s hands.
‘Whew!
I say! Gosh, do you see what they are?’ said Julian, in awe. ‘American money,
dollar notes. But look what they are, one hundred-dollar notes! And my word
there are scores and scores of them in this one packet.’
The
four stared in amazement as Julian riffled through the packet of notes. However
much would they be worth?
‘Julian,
how much is a hundred-dollar note worth in our money?’ asked George.
‘About
forty pounds I think’ said Julian. ‘Yes, just about that. Gosh, and there are
scores in this one packet, and we know they dropped dozens of the packets too.
Whatever is it all about?’
‘Well,
there must be thousands and thousands of dollars lying around us, here in the
quarry and outside it,’ said George. ‘I say! Surely this isn’t a dream?’
‘Well,
I must say it’s a very extravagant kind of dream, if so,’ said Dick. ‘A dream
worth thousands of pounds isn’t very usual. Ju, hadn’t we better get busy
picking up these parcels?’
‘Yes.
We certainly had,’ said Julian. ‘I’m beginning to see it all now. The smugglers
come over in a plane from France, say, having previously arranged to drop these
packets in a lonely spot on this moor. The gypsies are in the plot to the
extent that they light the guiding lamp and pick up the parcels.’
‘I
see, and then they quietly pack them into their caravans, slip off the moor,
and deliver them to somebody else, who pays them well for their trouble,’ said
Dick. ‘Very smart!’
‘That’s
about it,’ said Julian. ‘But I can’t for the life of me see why dollar notes
have to be smuggled here. They can be brought freely enough into the country -
why smuggle them?’
‘Stolen
ones, perhaps?’ said George. ‘Oh well, its quite beyond me. What a thing to do!
No wonder the gypsies didn’t want us around.’
‘Better
buck up and collect all these parcels and clear off back to the stables with
them,’ said Julian, picking up one near him. ‘The gypsies will be after them,
there’s no doubt about that! We must be gone before they come.’
The
four of them went about looking for the parcels. They found about sixty of
them, and they made quite a heavy load.
‘We’ll
put them somewhere safe, I think,’ said Julian. ‘What about stuffing them into
one of the sand-caves? I don’t very well see how we can carry them like this.’
‘We
could put them in the rugs and tie up the ends and carry them like that,’ said
George. ‘It would be mad to leave them hidden somewhere in this quarry. It’s
the first place the gypsies would search.’
‘All
right. We’ll follow your idea,’ said Julian. ‘I think we’ve about collected all
the packets there are. Get the rugs.’
George’s
idea proved to be a good one, Half the parcels were rolled into one rug, and
tied up, and half into the other.
‘Good
thing the rugs are nice and big,’ said Dick tying his up strongly. ‘Now I can
just about manage mine nicely on my back. You all right, Ju?’
‘Yes,
come along, you girls,’ said Julian. ‘Follow behind us. We’ll go down the
railway line. Leave everything else here. We can easily get it another time. We
must leave before the gypsies come.’
Timmy
began to bark suddenly. ‘That must mean the gypsies are coming,’ said Dick.
‘Come on, quick! Yes I can hear their voices - for goodness’ sake, HURRY!’
Chapter
Sixteen
THE
TERRIBLE MIST
Yes,
the gypsies were certainly coming! Their dogs were with them, barking. The four
children hurried out of the quarry with Timmy at their heels, quite silent.
‘Those
fellows may not know we were camping in the quarry,’ panted Dick. ‘They may
just be coming to find the parcels, and while they are hunting around, we may
be able to get a good start. Buck up!’
They
set off to where the lines ended, near where the old engine lay half-buried.
The gypsy dogs heard them and set up a yelping and howling. The gypsies stopped
to see what had excited them.
They
spied shadows moving in the distance, the four children slipping away from the
quarry. One of the men shouted loudly.
‘Hey
you - stop! Who are you? Stop, I say!’
But
the five didn’t stop. They were now stumbling between the railway lines, glad
of George’s torch, and Anne’s. The boys could not have held one for it was all
they could do to hang on to the heavy-laden rugs.
‘Quick,
oh quick!’ whispered Anne, but it was impossible to go very quickly.
‘They
must be catching us up,’ said Julian, suddenly. ‘Look round and see, George.’
George
looked round. ‘No, I can’t see anyone,’ she said. ‘Julian, everywhere looks
peculiar. What’s happening? Julian, stop.
Julian
stopped and looked round. His eyes had been fixed on his feet, trying to see where
he was going without stumbling. Anne had shone her torch down for him but it
was still dificult to get along properly. Julian gazed all round, wondering
what George meant.
Then
he gave a gasp. ‘Gosh! How queer! There’s a mist come up, look. It’s even
blotted out the stars. No wonder it seems so jolly dark all of a sudden.’
‘A
mist!’ said Anne, scared. ‘Not that awful mist that sometimes covers the moor!
Oh Julian, is it?’
Julian
and Dick watched the swirling mist in astonishment. ‘It’s come from the sea,’
Julian said. ‘Can’t you smell the salt in it? It’s come just as suddenly as
we’ve been told it comes, and look, it’s getting thicker every minute!’
‘What
a good thing we’re on the railway lines!’ said George. ‘What shall we do? Go
on?’
Julian
stood and thought. ‘The gypsies won’t come after us in this mist,’ he said.
‘I’ve a good mind to hide this money somewhere, and then walk back to get the
police. If we keep on the lines we can’t go wrong. But we must be sure not to
leave them, or we’ll be completely lost!’
‘Yes,
let’s do that,’ said Dick, who was heartily sick already of lugging along his
heavy load. ‘But where do you propose to hide them, Ju? Not in the quarry! We’d
have to walk through this awful mist to do that, and we’d get lost at once.’
‘No.
I’ve thought of a fine place,’ said Julian, and he lowered his voice. ‘Remember
that old engine, fallen on its side? Well, what about stuffing these packets
all the way down that great long funnel, and then stopping the top of it up
with sand? I bet you anything you like that nobody would find the packets
there.’
‘Grand
idea!’ said Dick. ‘The gypsies will be sure we’ve gone off carrying the money,
and they’ll not hunt about for it long, once they find the dropped packets are
all gone. We’ll be half-way home by the time they try to catch us, if they dare
to brave this mist.’
Anne
and George thought Julian’s idea was first-rate, a stroke of genius. ‘I’d
never, never have thought of the engine funnel!’ said Anne.
‘Now,
there’s no need for you two girls and Timmy to walk all the way to the engine
with us,’ said Julian. ‘You sit down here on the lines, and wait for us to come
back. We shan’t be long. We’ll walk straight up the railway, find the engine,
pack the money into the funnel, and walk back.’
‘Right,’
said George, squatting down. ‘Bring the rugs back with you, though. It’s cold
now!’
Julian
and Dick went off together, with Anne’s torch. George kept hers. Timmy pressed
close against her, astonished at the thick mist that had so suddenly swirled up
and around them.
‘That’s
right. Keep close to us and keep us warm, Tim,’ said George. ‘It’s jolly cold
now. This mist is damp!’
Julian
stumbled along, keeping a look-out for the gypsies. He could see nothing of
them, but then, if they had been only two feet away he could not have seen
anything of them in the mist! It seemed to get thicker and thicker.
I
know what old Ben meant now, when he said that it had damp fingers, thought
Julian, feeling little touches like fingers on his face, hands and legs as the
mist wreathed itself round him.
Dick
nudged him. ‘Here we are,’ he said. ‘The lines are broken here. The engine
should be just over there, a yard or two away.’
They
stepped cautiously away from the lines. The big gorse-bush could not be seen,
but it could be felt! Julian felt thorns pricking his legs, and knew he was
beside it.
‘Shine
your torch here, Dick,’ he whispered. ‘That’s right. There’s the cab of the
engine, see? Now let’s circle the bush, and we’ll come to the funnel.’
‘Here
it is,’ said Dick, in a few moments. ‘Look! Now then, let’s do a bit of work,
shoving these packets down. Gosh, what a lot of them there are! I hope the
funnel will take them all.’
They
spent ten minutes ramming the packets into the wide funnel. Down they went to
the bottom! More and more followed and then, at last, the final one was shoved
in and rammed down.
‘That’s
the lot,’ said Dick, relieved.  It’s really spiteful!’
‘The
packets almost fill the funnel,’ said Julian. ‘Hardly any room for sand. Still,
we can put in enough to hide the money all right. There that’s done. Now pull
this gorse-branch over the top of the funnel. My word, I never knew a bush so
set with spines! I’m scratched to bits!’
‘Can
you hear anything of the gypsies?’ asked Dick, in a low voice, as they prepared
to go back to the lines.
They
listened. ‘Not a thing,’ said Julian. ‘It’s my belief they’re scared of this
mist, and are lying low till it clears.’
‘They
may be in the quarry,’ said Dick. ‘Waiting there in safety. Well, long may they
be there! They won’t get the money now!’
‘Come
on,’ said Julian, and walked round the bush. ‘It’s just about here that we step
out to get to the lines. Take my arm. We mustn’t get separated. Did you ever
see such a mist in your life? It’s the thickest fog I ever knew. We can’t even
see our feet in the light of the torch now.’
They
took a few steps and then felt about for the rails. They couldn’t feel even
one. ‘A bit farther, I think,’ said Julian. ‘No, this way.’
But
they still couldn’t find the railway lines. Where were the wretched things? A
small feeling of panic came into Julian’s mind. Which way should they step now,
to find the rails? How had they gone wrong?
Now
both boys were on hands and knees, feeling for the broken rails. ‘I’ve got
one,’ said Dick. ‘No, blow, it isn’t. It’s a bit of wood, or something. For
goodness’ sake, keep close to me, Ju.’
After
ten minutes’ search, the two boys sat back on their heels, the little torch
between them.
‘Somehow
we’ve just missed those two or three correct steps from the gorse-bush to the
rails,’ said Julian. ‘Now we’re done! I don’t see anything for it but to wait
till the mist clears.’
‘But
what about the two girls?’ said Dick, anxiously. ‘Let’s try a bit longer. Look,
the mist is clearing a little there. Let’s go forward and hope we’ll stumble
over the lines soon. If the mist does clear, we shall soon be able to get our
bearings.’
So
they went forward hopefully, seeing the mist clear a little in front of them,
so that the torch made a longer beam for them to see by. Now and again, when
their feet knocked against something hard, they felt for the rails. But they
could not find even one!
‘Let’s
shout,’ said Julian, at last. So they shouted loudly. ‘George! Anne! Can you
hear us?’
They
stood and listened. No answer.
‘GEORGE!’
yelled Dick. ‘TIMMY!’
They
thought they heard a far-off bark. ‘That was Timmy!’ said Julian. ‘Over there!’
They
stumbled along and then shouted again. But this time there was no bark at all.
Not a sound came out of that dreadful mist, which had now closed tightly round
them again.
‘We’ll
be walking in it all night long,’ said Julian, desperately. ‘Why did we leave
the girls? Suppose this frightful fog doesn’t clear by tomorrow? Sometimes it
lasts for days.’
‘What
a horrible idea,’ said Dick, lightly, sounding much more cheerful than he felt.
‘I don’t think we need worry about the girls, Ju. Timmy’s with them and he can
easily take them back to the stables across the moor, in the mist. Dogs don’t
mind fogs.’
Julian
felt most relieved. He hadn’t thought of that. ‘Oh yes, I’d forgotten old Tim,’
he said. ‘Well, seeing that the girls will probably be all right with Timmy to
guide them, let’s sit down somewhere and have a rest. I’m tired out!’
‘Here’s
a good thick bush,’ said Dick. ‘Let’s get into the middle of it if we can, and
keep the damp out of us. Thank goodness it’s not a gorse-bush!’
‘I
wish I knew if the girls had had the sense not to wait for us any longer, but
to try to find their way back down the lines,’ said Julian. ‘I wonder where
they are now?’
Anne
and George were no longer where Julian and Dick had left them! They had waited
and waited, and then had become very anxious indeed.
‘Something’s
happened,’ said George. ‘I think we ought to go and get help, Anne. We can
easily follow the railway down to where we have to break off for the stable.
Timmy will know, anyway.  ‘Come on George. Gosh, this mist is worse than
ever! We’ll have to be careful we don’t lose the lines! Even Timmy might find
it hard to smell his way in this fog!’
They
got up. Anne followed George and Timmy followed behind, looking puzzled. He
couldn’t understand this night-time wandering about at all!
Anne
and George kept closely to the railway lines, walking slowly along, shining the
light of the torch downwards, and following carefully.
After
a time George stopped, puzzled. ‘This line’s broken here,’ she said. ‘There’s
no more of it. That’s funny, I don’t remember it being as badly broken as this,
The lines simply stop. I can’t see any more.’
‘Oh
George!’ said Anne, peering down. ‘Do you know what we’ve done. We’ve come all
the way up the lines again - instead of going down them, homewards! How could
we have been so mad? Look, this is where they break off; so the old engine must
be somewhere near, and the quarry!’
‘Blow!’
said George, quite in despair. ‘What asses we are. It shows how we can lose our
sense of direction in a mist like this.’
‘I
can’t see or hear anything of the boys,’ said Anne, fearfully. ‘George, let’s
go to the quarry and wait there till daylight comes. I’m cold and tired. We can
squeeze into one of those warm sand-caves.’
‘All
right,’ said George, very much down in the dumps. ‘Come along, and for
goodness’ sake don’t let’s lose our way to the quarry!’
Chapter
Seventeen
PRISONERS
TOGETHER
The
two girls and Timmy made their way carefully, hoping to come across the lines
that led to the quarry. They were lucky. They went across the gap in the lines
where once long ago the gypsies had wrenched out the rails, and came to where
they began again, and led to the edge of the quarry.
‘Here
they are!’ said George, thankfully. ‘Now we’re all right. We’ve only just got
to follow these and we’ll be in the quarry. I hope it will be warmer than here.
Brrrr! This mist is terribly cold and clammy.’
‘It
came up so suddenly,’ said Anne, shining her torch downwards. ‘I couldn’t
believe my eyes when I looked round and saw it creeping up on us. I...’
She
stopped suddenly. Timmy had given a low growl. ‘What’s up, Tim?’ whispered
George. He stood quite still, his hackles up and his tail motionless. He looked
steadfastly into the mist.
‘Oh
dear. What can be the matter now?’ whispered Anne. ‘I can’t hear a thing, can
you?’
They
listened. No, there was nothing to hear at all. They went on into the quarry,
thinking that Timmy might have heard a rabbit or hedgehog, and growled at it as
he sometimes did.
Timmy
heard a sound and ran to the side, lost in the mist at once. He suddenly yelped
loudly, then there was a heavy thud, and no more sound from Timmy!
‘Timmy!
What’s happened! Timmy, come here!’ shouted George, at the top of her voice.
But no Timmy came. The girls heard the sound of something heavy being dragged
away, and George ran after the sound.
‘Timmy!
Oh Timmy, what’s happened!’ she cried. ‘Where are you? Are you hurt?’
The
mist swirled round, and she tried to beat against it with her fists, angry that
she could not see. ‘Tim! Tim!’
Then
a pair of hands took her arms from behind and a voice said, ‘Now you come with
me! You were warned not to snoop about on the moor!’
George
struggled violently, less concerned for herself than for Timmy.
'Where’s
my dog?’ she cried. ‘What have you done to him?’
‘I
knocked him on the head,’ said the voice, which sounded very like Sniffer’s
father. ‘He’s all right, but he won’t feel himself for a bit! You can have him
back if you’re sensible.’
George
wasn’t sensible. She kicked and fought and wriggled and struggled. It was no
use. She was held in a grip like iron. She heard Anne scream once and knew that
she had been caught too.
When
George was too tired to struggle any more, she was led firmly out of the quarry
with Anne.
‘Where’s
my dog?’ she sobbed. ‘What have you done with him?’
‘He’s
all right,’ said the man behind her. ‘But if you make any more fuss I’ll give
him another blow on the head. NOW will you be quiet.’
George
was quiet at once. She was taken with Anne across the moor for what seemed like
miles, but was really only the fairly short distance between the quarry and the
gypsies’ camp.
‘Are
you bringing my dog?’ asked George, unable to contain her fears about Timmy.
‘Yes.
Somebody’s got him,’ said her captor. ‘You shall have him back safe and sound,
if you do what you’re told!’
George
had to be content with that. What a night! The boys gone, Timmy hurt, she and
Anne captured, and this horrible, wreathing mist all the time!
The
mist cleared a little as they came near to the gypsy camp. The hill behind
seemed to keep it off. George and Anne saw the light of a fire, and of a few
lanterns here and there. More men were gathered together, waiting. Anne thought
she could see Sniffer and Liz in the background but she couldn’t be sure.
‘If
only I could get hold of Sniffer,’ she thought. ‘He would soon find out if
Timmy is really hurt. Oh Sniffer, do come nearer if it’s you!’
Their
captors took them to the little fire, and made both girls sit down. One of the
men there exclaimed in surprise.
‘But
these are not those two boys! This is a boy and a girl, not as tall as the
others were!’
‘We’re
two girls,’ said Anne, thinking that the men might treat George less roughly if
they knew she was not a boy. ‘I’m a girl and so is she.’
She
got a scowl from George, but took no notice. This was not the time to pretend
anything. These men were ruthless, and very angry. They thought their plans had
gone wrong, all because of two boys. Perhaps when they found they had got two
girls, they would let them go.
The
men began to question them. ‘Where are the boys then?’
‘We’ve
no idea! Lost in the mist,’ said Anne. ‘We all went out to go back home, and
got separated, so George, I mean Georgina, and I went back to the quarry.’
‘Did
you hear the plane?’
‘Of
course!’
‘Did
you see or hear it dropping anything?’
‘We
didn’t see anything drop, we heard it,’ said Anne. George stared at her
furiously. Why was Anne giving all this away? Perhaps she thought that Timmy
would be given back to them if they proved helpful? George immediately changed
her mind about feeling cross with Anne. If only Timmy were all right!
‘Did
you pick up what the plane dropped?’ The man rapped out the question so sharply
that Anne humped. What should she say?
‘Oh
yes,’ she heard herself saying.  What was in
them, do you know?’
‘Never
you mind,’ said the man. ‘What did you do with the parcels?’
George
stared at Anne, wondering what she was going to say. Surely, surely she wouldn’t
give that secret away?
‘I
didn’t do anything with them,’ said Anne, in an innocent voice. ‘The boys said
they would hide them. So they went off into the mist with them, but they didn’t
come back. So George and I went to the quarry again. That’s when you caught
us.’
The
men talked among themselves in low voices. Then Sniffer’s father turned to the
girls again.
‘Where
did the boys hide these packets?’
‘How
do I know?’ said Anne. ‘I didn’t go with them. I didn’t see what they did with
them.’
‘Do
you think they will still have got them with them?’ asked the man.
‘Why
don’t you go and find the boys and ask them?’ said Anne. ‘I haven’t seen or
heard of the boys since they left us and went into the mist. I don’t know what
became of them or the parcels!’
‘They’re
probably lost somewhere on the moors,’ said the old, grey-haired gypsy. ‘With
the packets! We’ll look for the boys tomorrow. They won’t get home in this!
We’ll fetch them back here.’
‘They
wouldn’t come,’ said George. ‘As soon as they saw you, they’d run. You’d never
catch them. Any way they’d get back home as soon as the mist cleared.’
‘Take
these girls away,’ said the old gypsy, sounding tired of them. ‘Put them in the
far cave, and tie them up.’
‘Where’s
my dog?’ shouted George, suddenly. ‘You bring me my dog!’
‘You
haven’t been very helpful,’ said the old gypsy. ‘We’ll question you again
tomorrow, and if you are more helpful, you shall have your dog.’
Two
men took the girls away from the fire and over to the hill.  One of the men had a lantern and led the way, the other
man walking behind.
A
passage led straight into the hill. There was sand underfoot, and it seemed to
Anne as if even the walls were made of sand. How strange!
The
hill was honeycombed with passages. They criss-crossed and forked like burrows
in a rabbit-warren. Anne wondered however the men could find their way!
They
came at last to a cave that must have been right in the heart of the hill, a
cave with a sandy floor, and a post that was driven deeply into the ground.
Ropes
were fastened firmly to it. The two girls looked at them in dismay. Surely they
were not going to be tied up like prisoners!
But
they were! The ropes were fastened firmly round their waists and knotted at the
back. The knots were gypsy knots, firm, tight and complicated. It would take
the girls hours to unpick those, even supposing they could manage to reach
right round to their backs!
 ‘Maybe in the morning
you will remember where those packets were put?’
‘You
go and get my dog,’ ordered George. But they only laughed loudly and went out
of the cave.
It
was stuffy and hot in there. George was worried to death about Timmy, but Anne
was almost too tired to think.
She
fell asleep, sitting up uncomfortably with the ropes round her waist, and the
knots digging into her back. George sat brooding. Timmy - where was he? Was he
badly hurt? George was very miserable indeed.
She
didn’t go to sleep. She sat there, worrying, wide awake. She made an attempt to
get at the knots behind her, but it was no use, she couldn’t.
Suddenly
she thought she heard a noise. Was that someone creeping up the passage to the
cave? She felt frightened. Oh, if only Timmy were here!
Sniff!
Sniff!
‘Gracious
goodness, it must be Sniffer!’ thought George, and at that moment she almost
loved the dirty little gypsy boy!
‘Sniffer!’
she called quietly, and put on her torch. Sniffer’s head appeared and then his
body. He was crawling quietly up the passage on all fours.
He
came right into the cave, and stared at her and the sleeping Anne. ‘I’ve
sometimes been tied up here too,’ he said.
‘Sniffer,
how is Timmy?’ asked George, anxiously. ‘Tell me, quickly!’
‘He’s
all right,’ said Sniffer. ‘He’s just got a bad cut on his head. I bathed it for
him. He’s tied up too, and he’s mad about it!’
‘Sniffer,
listen, go and get Timmy and bring him to me,’ said George, breathlessly. ‘And
bring me a knife too, to cut these ropes. Will you? Can you?’
‘Oooh,
I dunno,’ said Sniffer, looking frightened.  ‘I’ll
give it to you if you do this for me. I promise you!’
‘I
want a bike,’ said Sniffer, surprisingly. ‘And I want to live in a house, and
ride my bike to school.’
‘I’ll
see that you have what you want, Sniffer,’ said George, wildly. ‘Only, do, do
go and get Timmy, and a knife! You got here without being seen, you can surely
get back again safely with Timmy. Think of that bike!’
Sniffer
thought of it. Then he nodded and disappeared down the passage as silently as
he had come.
George
waited and waited. Would he bring dear old Timmy to her, or would he be caught?
Chapter
Eighteen
GEORGE’S
TRICK
George
sat in the darkness of the cave, hearing Anne’s peaceful breathing nearby,
waiting for Sniffer to come back. She was longing to see Timmy again. Was the
cut on his head very bad?
A
thought came into her mind. She would send Timmy back to the stables with a
note! He was very clever, he knew what to do when he had a note tied to his
collar. Then help would come very quickly indeed. Timmy would know his way all
right out of this hill, once he had been in it!
Ah,
here was Sniffer coming back again. Was Timmy with him? She heard Sniffer’s
sniff-sniff-sniff, but no sound of Timmy. Her heart sank.
Sniffer
appeared cautiously in the cave.
‘I
didn’t dare to take Timmy,’ he said. ‘My father has him tied up too near to
him, and I’d have waked him. But I’ve brought you a knife, look.’
‘Thank
you, Sniffer,’ said George, taking the knife and putting it into her pocket.
‘Listen, there’s something important I’m going to do and you’ve got to help.’
‘I’m
scared,’ said Sniffer. ‘I’m real scared.’
‘Think
of that bicycle,’ said George. ‘A red one, perhaps, with silver handles?’
Sniffer
thought of it. ‘All right,’ he said. ‘What are you going to do?’
‘I’m
going to write a note,’ said George, feeling in her pocket for her note-book
and pencil. ‘And I want you to tie it on to Timmy’s collar, under his chin, and
set him free somehow. Will you do that? He’ll run off back to the stables with
the note, and then Anne and I will be rescued, and you will get the most
beautiful bicycle in the world!’
‘And
a house to live in,’ said Sniffer, at once. ‘So’s I can ride my bike to
school?’
‘All
right,’ said George, hoping that somehow he could have that too. ‘Now, wait a
minute.’
She
scribbled the note, but she had hardly written more than a few words, when a
sound came up the passage. Someone was coughing.
‘It’s
my father!’ said Sniffer, in fright. ‘Listen, if you cut your ropes and escape,
can you find your way out from here? It’s very twisty and turny.’
‘I
don’t know. I don’t think I can!’ whispered George, in a panic.
‘I’ll
leave patrins for you!’ said Sniffer. ‘Look out for them! Now I’m going to slip
into the cave next door, and wait till my father’s finished talking to you.
Then I’ll go back to Timmy.’
He
slipped out just in time. The lantern shone into George’s cave and Sniffer’s
father stood there.
‘Have
you seen Sniffer?’ he asked. ‘I missed him when I woke just now.
He’s not here,’ said George, trying to sound surprised. ‘Look round the cave
and see!’
The
man caught sight of the note-book and pencil in George’s hand. ‘What’s that
you’re writing?’ he said suspiciously and took it from her.
‘So
you’re writing for help, are you!’ he said. ‘And how do you think you’re going
to get help. I’d like to know? Who’s going to take this note home for you?
Sniffer?’
‘No,’
said George, truthfully.
The
man frowned as he looked again at the note. ‘Look here,’ he said, ‘you can
write another note, to those two boys. And I’ll tell you what to say.’
‘No,’
said George.
‘Oh
yes, you will,’ said the man. ‘I’m not going to hurt those boys. I’m just going
to get back those packets from wherever they are hidden.
‘Well,
if you don’t write this note you won’t see him again,’ said the man. ‘Now then,
take your pencil and write in that note-book of yours.’
George
took up her pencil. ‘This is what you must write,’ said the man, frowning as he
thought hard.
‘Wait
a minute,’ said George. ‘How are you going to get this note to the boys? You
don’t know where they are! You won’t be able to find them if this mist still
goes on.’
The
man scratched his head and thought.
‘The
only way to get the note to them is to tie it on my dog’s collar and send him to
find them,’ said George. ‘If you bring him here to me I can make him
understand. He always does what I tell him.’
‘You
mean he’ll take the note to whoever you tell him to take it?’ said the man, his
eyes gleaming. ‘Well, write it then. Say this:
‘
“We are prisoners.  Then sign your name, whatever it is.’
‘It’s
Georgina,’ said George, firmly. ‘You go and get my dog while I write the note.’
The
man turned and went. George looked after him her eyes bright. He thought he was
making her play a trick on Julian and Dick, to bring them here so that they
could be threatened and questioned about the packets, and where they were
hidden!
‘But
I’m going to play a trick on him,’ thought George. ‘I’m going to tell Timmy to
take the note to Henry, and she’ll be suspicious and get Captain Johnson to
follow Tim back here, and that will give the gypsies an awful shock! I expect
the Captain will be sensible enough to get the police as well. Aha, I’m playing
a trick too!’
In
ten minutes’ time Sniffer’s father returned with Timmy. It was a rather subdued
Timmy, with a very bad cut on his head, which really needed stitching. He
pattered soberly across to George, and she flung her arms round his neck and
cried into his thick hair.
 ‘I’ll take you to the vet when I get back, Tim.’
‘You
can get back as soon as we’ve got those two boys here and they’ve told us where
those packets are hidden,’ said the man.
Timmy
was licking George as if he would never stop, and his tail waved to and fro, to
and fro. He couldn’t understand what was happening at all! Why was George here?
Never mind, he was with her again. He settled down on the floor with a thump
and put his head on her knee.
‘Write
the note,’ said the man, ‘and tie it on to his collar, on the top, so that it
can easily be seen.’
‘I’ve
written it,’ said George. The gypsy held out a dirty hand for it and read it.
‘We
are prisoners.
Georgina.’
‘Is
that really your name, Georgina?’ asked the man. George nodded. It was one of
the few times she ever owned to a girl’s name!
She
tied the note firmly to Timmy’s collar, on the top of his neck. It was quite
plainly to be seen. Then she gave him a hug and spoke urgently to him.
‘Go
to Henry, Tim, go to HENRY. Do you understand, Timmy dear, take this note to
HENRY.’ She tapped the paper on his collar as he listened to her. Then she gave
him a push. ‘Go along. Don’t stay here any longer. Go and find HENRY.’
‘Hadn’t
you better tell him the other boy’s name too?’ said the man.
‘Oh
no, I don’t want to muddle Timmy,’ said George hastily. ‘Henry, Henry, HENRY!’
‘Woof,’
said Timmy, and George knew that he understood. She gave him another push.
‘Go,
then,’ she said. ‘Hurry!’
Timmy
gave her rather a reproachful look as if to say, ‘You haven’t let me stay with
you very long!’ Then he padded off down the passage, the note showing clearly
on his collar.
‘I’ll
bring the boys up here as soon as they come with the dog,’ said the man, and he
turned on his heel, and went out. George wondered if Sniffer was still about
and she called him. But there was no answer. He must have slipped away down the
passages back to his caravan.
Anne
woke up then, and wondered where she was. George switched on her torch again
and explained all that had happened.
‘You
should have wakened me,’ said Anne. ‘Oh blow these ropes. They’re so
uncomfortable.’
‘I’ve
got a knife now,’ said George. ‘Sniffer gave it to me. Shall I cut our ropes?’
‘Oh
yes!’ said Anne, in delight. ‘But don’t let’s try and escape yet. It’s still
night-time and if that mist is about, we’ll only get lost. We can pretend we’re
still tied up if anyone comes.’
George
cut her own ropes with Sniffer’s exceedingly blunt knife. Then she cut Anne’s.

‘Now
do remember, if we hear anyone coming, we must tie the ropes loosely round us,’
she said. ‘We will stay here till we know it’s day, and perhaps we can find out
if the mist is still about, or if it’s gone. If it’s gone, we’ll go.’
They
fell asleep on the sandy floor, both glad to lie down flat. Nobody came to
disturb them, and they slept on and on, tired out.
Where
were the boys? Still under the bush, half-sleeping, half-waking, for they were
cold and uncomfortable. They hoped the girls were now safely at home. They must
have gone right down the railway, and made their way back to the stables,
thought Julian, every time he awoke. I do hope they are safe, and Timmy too.
Thank goodness he is with them.
But
Timmy wasn’t with them, of course. He was padding across the misty moor all by
himself, puzzled, and with a badly-aching head. Why had George sent him to
Henry? He didn’t like Henry. He didn’t think that George did, either. And yet
she had sent him to find her. Very strange!
Still,
George had given him his orders, and he loved her and always obeyed her. He
padded over the heather and grass. He didn’t bother about keeping to the
railway line. He knew the way back without even thinking about it!
It
was still night, though soon the dawn would come. But the mist was so thick
that even the dawn would not be able to break through it. The sun would have to
remain hidden behind the thick swathes of mist.
Timmy
came to the stables. He paused to remember which was Henry’s bedroom. Ah yes,
it was upstairs, next to the room that Anne and George had had.
Timmy
leapt into the kitchen through a window left open for the cat. He padded
upstairs and came to Henry’s room. He pushed at the door and it opened.
In
he went and put his paws on her bed. ‘Woof,’ he said in her ear. ‘Woof! Woof!
Woof!’
Chapter
Nineteen
GOOD
OLD TIM!
Henry
had been fast asleep and snoring.
‘Oooh!
What is it?’ she said, sitting up straight in bed and fumbling for her torch.
She was quite panic-stricken. She switched on the torch with trembling fingers
and then saw Timmy, his big brown eyes looking at her beseechingly.
‘Why,
Timmy!’ said Henry, in amazement, ‘Timmy! Whatever are you doing here? Have the
others come back? No, they couldn’t have, not in the middle of the night! Why
have you come then, Timmy?’
‘Woof,’
said Timmy, trying to make her understand that he was bringing a message. Henry
put out her hand to pat his head, and suddenly caught sight of the paper tied
to his collar at the back.
‘What’s
this on your collar?’ she said, and reached out for it. ‘Why, it’s paper. Tied
on, too. It must be a message!’
She
untied the piece of paper and unrolled it. She read it.
‘We
are prisoners.
Georgina.’
Henry
was astounded. She looked at Timmy and he looked back, wagging his tail. He
pawed at her arm impatiently. Henry read the note again. Then she pinched
herself to make sure she was not dreaming.
‘Oooh,
no, I’m awake all right,’ she said. ‘Timmy, is this note true? Are they
prisoners? And who does “we” mean? George and Anne, or the whole four? Oh,
Timmy, I do wish you could speak!’
Timmy
wished the same! He pawed energetically at Henry. She suddenly saw the cut on
his head and was horrified.
‘You’re
hurt, Timmy! Oh, you poor, poor thing. Who did that to you? You ought to have
that wound seen to!’
Timmy
certainly had a very outsize headache, but he couldn’t bother to think about
that. He gave a little whine and ran to the door and back.
‘Yes,
I know you want me to follow you, but I’ve got to think,’ said Henry. ‘If
Captain Johnson was here I’d go and fetch him. But he’s away for the night,
Timmy. And I’m sure Mrs Johnson would have the fright of her life if I fetched
her. I simply don’t know what to do.’
‘Woof,’
said Timmy, scornfully.
‘It’s
all very well to say “Woof” like that,’ said Henry, ‘but I’m not as brave as
you are. I pretend I am, Timmy, but I’m not really. I’m afraid of following
you! I’m afraid of going to find the others. I might be caught too.
Henry
slid out of bed, and Timmy looked suddenly hopeful. Was this silly girl going
to make up her mind at last?
‘Timmy,
there’s no grown-up here tonight except Mrs Johnson, and I really can’t wake
her,’ said Henry. ‘She’s had such a very hard, busy day. I’m going to dress,
and then get William. He’s only eleven, I know, but he’s very sensible, and
he’s a boy. He’ll know what to do. I only pretend to be a boy.’
She
dressed quickly in her riding things and then set off to William’s room. He
slept by himself across the landing. Henry walked in and switched on her torch.
William
awoke at once. ‘Who’s there?’ he demanded, sitting up at once. ‘What do you
want?’
‘It’s
me. Henry,’ said Henry. ‘William, a most extraordinary thing has happened.
Timmy has arrived in my room with a note on his collar. Read it!’
William
took the note and read it. He was most astonished. ‘Look,’ he said, ‘George has
signed herself Georgina. She wouldn’t do that unless things were very urgent.
She never, never lets herself be called anything but George. We’ll have to
follow Tim and go, at once, too’
‘But
I can’t walk miles in a mist over the moor,’ said Henry, in a panic.
‘We
don’t need to. We’ll saddle our horses and go on those,’ said William,
beginning to dress, and sounding very sensible indeed. ‘Timmy will lead the
way. You go and get the horses out. Do buck up, Henry. The others may be in
danger. You’re acting like a Henrietta!’
That
made Henry cross. She went out of the room at once and down into the yard.  He would have
decided everything at once.
Courage
came to her when she got the horses. They were surprised but quite willing to
go for a nighttime ride, even in this thick mist! William came up in a very
short time with Timmy behind him. Timmy was delighted to have William with him.
He liked him, but he was not very fond of Henry.
 Both Henry
and William had excellent torches, and kept them shining downwards, so that
they should not miss Timmy. He did go out of sight once or twice, but came back
immediately, when he heard the horses stopping.
Over
the moor they rode. They didn’t follow the railway, of course. Timmy didn’t
need to. He knew the way perfectly!
Once
he stopped and sniffed the air. What had he smelt? Henry and William had no
idea, but Timmy was puzzled by what he had smelt on the misty air.
Surely
he had smelt the smell of the two boys, Julian and Dick? It had come on the air
for a moment or two, and Timmy was half-inclined to follow it and see if the
smell was right. Then he remembered George and Anne and went on through the
swirling mist.
The
boys were actually not very far away when Timmy smelt them. They were still in
the middle of the bush, trying to keep warm, and sleep. If only they had known
that Timmy was near, with Henry and William! But they didn’t.
Timmy
led the way. Soon they came to the quarry, but did not see it because of the
mist. They went round it, led by Timmy, and rode towards the gypsy camp. Timmy
slowed down, and they took warning.
‘He’s
getting near wherever he wants to take us,’ whispered William. ‘Had we better
dismount and tie the horses up, do you think? Their hooves may give a warning
that we are near.’
‘Yes.
Yes, William,’ said Henry, thinking that the boy was really very sensible. They
dismounted quietly and tied the horses to a nearby birch tree.
They
were quite near the hill in front of which was the gypsy camp. The mist was not
so thick here, and the two suddenly caught sight of a dark, shadowy caravan,
outlined against a campfire, left burning nearby. ‘We’ll have to be very
quiet,’ whispered William. ‘Timmy’s brought us to the gypsy camp on the moor. I
had an idea that he would. The others must be held prisoner somewhere near - be
as quiet as you can.’
Timmy
watched them dismount. He hung his head, panting, his tail down.  But he must get
to George, he must!
He
led the way to the opening in the hill. William and Henry were most astonished.
They followed Timmy through the maze of passages, wondering how he knew the way
so surely. But Timmy didn’t falter. He only needed to go somewhere once, and
after that he never forgot the way!
 He wanted to lie
down and put his aching head on his paws. But no, he must find George. He must
find George.
George
and Anne were lying in the little cave, asleep. They were uncomfortable, and
the cave was hot, so they were restless, waking up every few minutes. But both
were asleep when Timmy walked slowly into the cave, and flopped down beside
George.
George
awoke when she heard William and Henry come into the cave. She thought it might
be Sniffer’s father coming back, and she hastily put the ropes round her waist
so that she would look as if she were still tied up. Then she heard Timmy
panting, and switched on her torch eagerly.
It
showed her Timmy, and Henry and William! Henry was full of amazement when she
saw George and Anne with ropes round their waists. She gaped at them.
‘Oh
Timmy darling, you fetched help!’ said George, putting her arms round his neck.
‘Oh Henry, I’m so glad you’ve come. But didn’t you bring Captain Johnson too?’
‘No.
He’s away,’ said Henry. ‘But William’s here. We rode, and Timmy guided us.
Whatever’s happened, George?’
Anne
awoke just then, and couldn’t believe her eyes when she saw the visitors! There
was a hasty discussion, and then William spoke firmly.
‘If
you want to escape, you’d better come now, while the gypsy camp is asleep.
Timmy can guide us out of this rabbit-warren of a hill. We’d never be able to
find our way out alone. Come on!’
‘Come
on, Tim,’ said George, shaking him gently. But poor old Timmy was feeling very
peculiar. He couldn’t see things properly. George’s voice sounded blurred to
him.
‘He’s
ill!’ said George, in a panic.  Oh Timmy, what’s the matter?’
‘It’s
that cut on his head,’ said William. ‘Its pretty bad, and he’s worn out with
coming to fetch us and running all the way back again. He can’t possibly guide
us back, George. We’ll have to do the best we can by ourselves.’
‘Oh,
poor, poor Timmy!’ said Anne, horrified at seeing the dog stretched out quite
limp, on the floor of the cave. ‘George, can you carry him?’
‘I
think so,’ said George, and she lugged him up in her arms. ‘He’s awfully heavy,
but I think I can just manage him. Perhaps the fresh air will revive him when
we get outside.’
‘But
George, we don’t know our way out of here,’ said Anne, fearfully. ‘If Timmy
can’t lead us, we’re lost! We’d end up by wandering miles and miles inside this
hill and never getting out!’
‘Well,
we’ll simply have to make a shot at it,’ said William. ‘Come on, I’ll lead the
way. We really MUST go!’
He
went out of the cave and down a passage; the others followed. George carrying
the limp Timmy. But very soon William came to a fork and stopped.
‘Oh
dear - do we go to the left or the right?’ he wondered.
Nobody
knew. George shone her torch here and there, trying to remember. The beam of
light picked up something on the ground nearby.
It
was two sticks, one short and one long, in the shape of a cross! George gave an
exclamation.
‘Look
- a patrin! Left by Sniffer to show us the way out. We have to take the passage
that the long stick points to! Oh, I hope that Sniffer has left patrins at
every corner and every fork!’
They
took the right-hand way and went on, their torches making long beams in the
darkness, and at every place where they might go wrong, they saw a patrin, a
message left by Sniffer to show them the right way to go.
‘Another
cross, we go this way,’ said Anne.
‘Here’s
a patrin again, we take this fork!’ said George. And so it went on until they
came safely to the entrance of the hill. How thankful they were to see the
mist. At least it meant that they were in the open air!
‘Now
to get to the horses,’ said William. ‘They will each have to carry two of us at
once, I’m afraid.’
And
then, just as they were making their way to where they had left the horses, the
gypsies’ dogs began to bark the place down!
‘They’ve
heard us!’ said William, desperately. ‘Buck up! We’ll be stopped if we don’t
get off at once!’
Then
a voice shouted loudly. ‘I can see you over there, with your torches! Stop at
once! Do you hear me? STOP!’
Chapter
Twenty
EXCITEMENT
IN THE MORNING
The
dawn was coming now. The mist was no longer full of darkness, but was white,
and thinning rapidly. The four children hurried to the horses, which were
stamping impatiently by the trees. George couldn’t go very fast because of
Timmy. He really was very heavy.
Suddenly
he began to struggle. The fresh, cool air had revived him and he wanted to be
set down. George put him down thankfully, and he began to bark defiantly at the
gypsies who were now coming out of their caravans, their dogs with them.
The
four children mounted hurriedly and the horses were surprised at the double
weight. William swung his horse’s head round and set off with George sitting
behind him. Henry took Anne. Timmy, feeling much better, ran after them, his
legs no longer feeling so shaky.
The
gypsies ran too, shaking their fists and shouting. Sniffer’s father was amazed
beyond measure. Why, there were the two girls he had tied up - and that dog he
had sent off to trick the other two boys on the moor.
Then
who were these on horse-back, and how had they found their way to the hill? How
had the prisoners been able to find their way out of the hill, too? That was a
real puzzle to Sniffer’s father.
The
gypsies tore after the horses, but the dogs contented themselves with excited
barks. Not one of them dared to go after Timmy. They were afraid of him.
The
horses went off as fast as they dared in the mist, Timmy running in front. He
seemed very much better, though George was afraid it was only the excitement
that now kept him going. She glanced back at the gypsies. They would never
catch up now, thank goodness!
Somewhere
behind the mist the sun was shining. Soon it would disperse the strange fog
that had come up so suddenly from the sea. She glanced down at her watch. Good
gracious, could it really be almost six o’clock in the morning. It was tomorrow
now!
She
wondered what had happened to Julian and Dick.
She
thought of Sniffer gratefully, and all those patrins he had left in the hill.
They would never have got out but for those. She thought of Henry and William,
and gave William a sudden tight hug round the waist for coming out in the
middle of the night and rescuing them!
‘Where
are Julian and Dick, do you suppose?’ she said to William. ‘Do you think they
are still lost on the moor? Ought we to shout, and look for them?’
‘No,’
called back William over his shoulder. ‘We’re going straight back to the
stables. They can look after themselves!’
Dick
and Julian had certainly tried to look after themselves, that cold, misty
night, but not very successfully. By the time that their torch showed them that
it was a quarter to five by their watches, they had had enough of the bush they
were in. If only they had known it, Henry and William, with Timmy, were just
then riding over the moor, not a great distance from where they were!
They
got out of the bush, damp and stiff. They stretched themselves and looked into
the dark night, still full of mist.
‘Let’s
walk,’ said Julian. ‘I can’t bear keeping still in this mist. I’ve got my
compass. If we walk due west we should surely come to the edge of the moor, not
far from Milling Green.’
They
set off stumbling in the now dim light of the torch, whose battery was getting
low. ‘It will give out soon,’ groaned Dick, giving it a shake. ‘Blow the thing!
It hardly gives us any light now, and we simply must keep looking at the
compass.’
Julian
tripped against something hard and almost fell. He snatched the torch from
Dick. ‘Quick, let me have it!’
He
shone it on what had tripped him and gave a delighted exclamation. ‘Look, it’s
a rail! We’re on the railway line again. What a bit of luck!’
‘I
should think so!’ said Dick, relieved. ‘This torch is just about finished. Now,
for GOODNESS’ sake don’t let’s lose this railway line. Stop at once if you
can’t feel it with your foot.’
‘To
think we were so jolly near the line after all, and didn’t know it!’ groaned
Julian. ‘We could have been back at the stables ages ago. I do hope the girls
got back safely and didn’t alarm anyone about us. They’d know we would come
back as soon as it was daylight, anyhow, if we could follow the lines!’
They
stumbled in at the stables’ entrance about six o’clock, tired out. Nobody was
yet up, it seemed. They found the garden door open, left ajar by William and
Henry, and went up to the girls’ room, hoping to find them in bed.
But
the beds were empty of course. They went to Henry’s room, to ask her if she had
heard anything of the girls, but her bed, though slept in, was empty too!
They
went across the landing to William’s room. ‘He’s gone as well!’ said Dick, in
great astonishment. ‘Where are they all?’
‘Let’s
wake Captain Johnson,’ said Julian, who had no idea that the Captain was away
for the night. So they awakened a very startled Mrs Johnson, and almost scared
the life out of her, for she thought they were far away, camping on the moor!
She
was even more startled when she heard their tale and realized that George and
Anne were missing. ‘Where are the girls, then!’ she said, flinging on a
dressing-gown. ‘This is serious, Julian. They might be completely lost on the
moor, or those gypsies might have got them! I must telephone my husband, and
the police too.
She
was in the middle of telephoning, with Julian and Dick beside her, looking very
anxious indeed, when the sound of horses’ hooves came in the yard below.
‘Now
goodness me! Who’s that?’ said Mrs Johnson. ‘Horses! Who’s riding them at this
time of the morning!’
They
all went to the window and looked down into the yard. Dick gave a yell that
almost made Mrs Johnson fall out of the window!
‘Anne!
George! Look, there they are, and Timmy too. And gosh, there’s Henry, and
William! What is all this!’
Anne
heard the yell and looked up. Tired as she was, she gave a cheerful wave and a
grin. George gave a shout.
‘Oh
Julian! Oh Dick, you’re back then! We did hope you would be. After you left us
we went back up the lines the wrong way and arrived at the quarry again!’
‘And
the gypsies took us prisoners’ yelled Anne.
‘But
- but - how do Henry and William come into this?’ said poor Mrs Johnson,
thinking she must really still be asleep. ‘And what’s the matter with Timmy?’
Timmy
had suddenly flopped on the ground. The excitement was over, they were home,
now he could put his poor aching head on his paws and sleep!
George
was off her horse immediately. ‘Timmy! Darling Timmy! Brave Timmy! Help me,
William. I’ll take him upstairs to my room and see to that cut.’
By
this time all the other children were awake and there was such a pandemonium
going on that Mrs Johnson couldn’t make herself heard.
Children
in dressing-gowns and without, children shouting and yelling, children pouring
into the yard and asking questions; William trying to quiet the two horses
which were getting very excited at all this sudden clamour; and all the cocks
round about crowing their heads off! What an excitement!
The
sun suddenly shone out brilliantly, and the last wisps of mist disappeared.
‘Hurrah! That mist has gone!’ shouted George. ‘The sun’s out. Cheer up, Timmy.
We’ll all be all right now!’
Timmy
was half-carried, half-dragged up the stairs by William and George. George and
Mrs Johnson examined his cut head carefully, and bathed it.
‘It
really should have been stiched up,’ said Mrs Johnson, ‘but it seems to be
healing already.
Soon
there was the sound of horse’s hooves again in the yard, and Captain Johnson
arrived, looking very anxious. At almost the same moment a car slid in at the
gates, a police car, with two policemen who had been sent to inquire about the
missing girls! Mrs Johnson had forgotten to telephone again to say they had
arrived.
‘Oh
dear, I’m so sorry to have bothered you,’ said Mrs Johnson to the police
sergeant. ‘The girls have just arrived back, but I still don’t know what has
really happened. Still, they’re safe, so please don’t bother any more.’
‘Wait!’
said Julian, who was in the room, too. ‘I think we shall need the police!
Something very peculiar has been happening up on the moor.’
‘Really,
sir? What’s that?’ said the sergeant, taking out a note-book.
‘We
were camping there,’ said Julian. ‘And a plane came over, very low, guided by a
lamp set in a sandpit by the gypsies.’
‘A
lamp set by the gypsies!’ said the sergeant, surprised. ‘But why should they
need to guide a plane? I suppose it landed?’
‘No.
It didn’t,’ said Julian. ‘It came again the next night, and did exactly the
same thing, swooping low and circling. But this time it dropped packages, sir!’
‘Oh,
it did, did it?’ said the sergeant, more interested. ‘For the gypsies to pick
up, by any chance?’
‘Yes,
sir,’ said Julian. ‘But the plane’s aim wasn’t very good, and the packets fell
all round us and almost hit us. We ran for shelter, because we didn’t know if
there were any explosives or not!’
‘Did
you pick up any of the packages?’ asked the sergeant. Julian nodded.
‘Yes,
we did, and I opened one.’
‘What
was in it?’
‘Paper
money, dollars!’ said Julian. ‘In one packet alone there were scores of notes
and each note was for a hundred dollars, about forty pounds a time! Thousands
of pounds-worth thrown all around us!’
The
sergeant looked at his companion. ‘Ha! Now we know! This explains a lot that
has been puzzling us, doesn’t it, Wilkins?’
Wilkins,
the other policeman, nodded grimly. ‘It certainly does. So that’s what happens!
That’s how the gang get the dollars over here, from that printing-press in
North France. Just a nice little run in a plane!’
‘But
why do they throw the packets down for the gypsies to collect?’ asked Julian.
‘Is it so that they can give them to someone else? Why don’t they bring them
openly into the country? Surely anyone can bring dollars here?’
‘Not
forged ones, my lad,’ said the sergeant. ‘These will all be forged, you mark my
words. The gang have got a headquarters near London, and as soon as those
packets are handed over to them by one of the gypsies, they will set to work
passing them off as real ones, paying hotel bills with them, buying all kinds
of goods and paying for them in notes that aren’t worth a penny!’
‘Whew!’
said Julian. ‘I never thought of them being forged!’
‘Oh
yes. We’ve known of this gang for some time, but all we knew was that they had
a printing-press to print the notes in North France, and that somehow the rest
of the gang here, near London, received them and passed them off as real ones,’
said the sergeant. ‘But we didn’t know how they were brought here, nor who took
them to the gang near London.’
‘But
now we know all right!’ said Wilkins. ‘My word, this is a pretty scoop,
Sergeant. Good kids these, finding out what we’ve been months trying to
discover!’
‘Where
are these packages?’ said the sergeant. ‘Did you hide them? Did the gypsies get
them?’
‘No,
we hid them,’ said Julian. ‘But I guess the gypsies will be hunting all over
the place for them today, so we’d better get on the moors quick, Sergeant.’
‘Where
did you hide them?’ said the sergeant. ‘In a safe place, I hope!’
‘Oh
very!’ said Julian. ‘I’ll call my brother, Sergeant. He’ll come with us. Hey,
Dick! Come on in here, and you’ll hear a very interesting bit of news!’
Chapter
Twenty-one
THE
END OF THE MYSTERY
Mrs
Johnson was amazed to hear that the police wanted Julian and Dick to go out on
the moors again.
‘But
they’re tired out!’ she said. ‘They need something to eat. Can’t it wait?’
‘I’m
afraid not,’ said the sergeant. ‘You needn’t worry, Mrs Johnson. These boys are
tough!’
‘Well
actually I don’t think that the gypsies can possibly find the packets,’ said
Julian. ‘So it wouldn’t matter if we had a bite to eat. I’m ravenous!’
‘All
right,’ said the big policeman, putting away his note-book. ‘Have a snack and
we’ll go afterwards.’
Well,
of course, George, Anne and Henry all wanted to go too, as soon as they heard
about the proposed jaunt over the moors!
‘What!
Leave us out of that!’ said George, indignantly. ‘What a hope! Anne wants to
come too.’
‘So
does Henry,’ said Anne, looking at George, ‘even though she didn’t help to find
the packages of notes.’
‘Of
course Henry must come,’ said George at once, and Henry beamed. George had been
very struck indeed with Henry’s courage in coming with William to rescue her
and Anne, and very pleased that she hadn’t boasted about it! But Henry knew
that William was the one mostly to praise, and she had been unexpectedly modest
about the whole affair.
It
was quite a large party that set off after everyone had made a very good
breakfast. Mrs Johnson had set to work cooking huge platefuls of bacon and egg,
exclaiming every now and again when she thought of all that had happened up on
the moors.
‘Those
gypsies! And fancy that plane coming like that - dropping money all over the
place! And the gypsies tying up Anne and George in that hill. I never heard
anything like it in my life!’
Captain
Johnson went with the party too. He could hardly believe the extraordinary tale
that the four had to tell, five, with old Timmy! Timmy now had a beautiful
patch on his head, and was feeling extremely important. Wait till Liz saw that!
Ten
people set out, including Timmy, for William had been included in the party
too. He tried to guess where Julian had hidden the notes, but he couldn’t, of
course. Julian firmly refused to tell anyone. He wanted it to be a real surprise.
They
came to the quarry at last, having walked all the way up the old railway line.
Julian stood on the edge of the quarry and pointed out the gypsy camp.
‘Look,
they’re leaving,’ he said. ‘I bet they were afraid we’d spread the news of
their behaviour, after the girls escaped.’
Sure
enough, the caravans were moving slowly away.
‘Wilkins,
as soon as you get back, give word to have every gypsy watched if he leaves the
caravans,’ said the sergeant. ‘One of them is sure to have arranged a
meeting-place to give the gang the packets dropped from the plane, and if we
watch those caravans, and every gypsy in them, we’ll soon be able to put our
hands on the gang that spends the forged notes.’
‘I
bet it’s Sniffer’s father,’ said Dick. ‘He’s the ringleader, anyway.’
They
watched the caravans move away one by one. Anne wondered about Sniffer. So did
George. What had she promised him last night, if he would help them? A bicycle,
and to live in a house so that he could ride it to school! Well, it wasn’t
likely she would ever see the dirty little boy again, but if she did she would
certainly have to keep her word!
‘Now,
where’s this wonderful hiding-place?’ asked the sergeant, as Julian turned from
watching the caravans. He had tried to make out Sniffer and Liz, but the vans
were too far away.
‘Follow
me!’ said Julian, with a sudden grin and led the way back up the lines to where
they broke off. The gorse-bush was there, and the old engine lay on its side as
before, almost hidden.
‘Whatever’s
that?’ said the sergeant, surprised.
‘It’s
the old Puffing Billy that used to pull the trucks of sand from the quarry,’
said Dick. ‘Apparently there was a quarrel long ago between the owners of the
quarry and the gypsies, and the gypsies pulled up the lines and the engine ran
off and fell over. There it’s been ever since, as far as I can see!’
Julian
went round to the funnel-end, and bent back the prickly gorse-branch that hid
it. The sergeant looked on in surprise. Dick scraped the sand out of the top of
the funnel and then pulled out one of the packages. He had been afraid they
would not be there.
‘Here
you are!’ he said, and tossed the packet to the sergeant. ‘There are plenty
more. I’ll come to the one we opened in a minute - yes - here it is.’
The
sergeant and Wilkins were amazed to see the packages hauled up from such a
peculiar hiding-place. No wonder the gypsies hadn’t found them. Nobody would
ever have looked down the funnel of the old engine, even if they had spotted
it, half-buried as it was.
The
sergeant looked at the hundred-dollar notes in the opened parcel and whistled.
‘My word, this is it! We’ve seen these before, beautiful forgeries they are! If
the gang had got rid of this lot, a great many people would have suffered. The
money is worth nothing! How many packets did you say there were?’
‘Dozens!’
said Dick, and pulled more of them out of the funnel. ‘Gosh, I can’t reach the
ones at the bottom.’
‘Never
mind,’ said the sergeant.  The gypsies have gone and they are the only
people likely to hunt for them. This is a wonderful scoop! You kids have
certainly put us on to something.’
‘I’m
glad,’ said Julian. ‘I say, we’d better collect all the things we left here
yesterday, hadn’t we? We went off in rather a hurry, you see, Sergeant, and
left our things in the quarry.’
He
and George went into the quarry to collect the things they had left there.
Timmy went with them. He suddenly growled, and George stopped, her hand on his
collar.
‘What’s
up, Tim? Ju, there must be somebody here! Is it one of the gypsies, do you
think?’
Then
Timmy stopped growling and wagged his tail. He dragged away from George’s hand
and ran over to one of the little caves in the sandy walls. He looked most
peculiar with the patch on his head.
Out
of the cave came Liz! As soon as she saw Timmy she began to turn
head-over-heels as fast as she could. Timmy stared in wonder - what a dog! How
could she turn somersaults like that?
‘Sniffer!’
called George. ‘Come on out. I know you’re there!’
A
pale, worried face looked out of the cave. Then Sniffer’s thin, wiry little
body followed, and soon he was standing in the quarry, looking scared.
‘I
got away from them,’ he said, nodding his head towards where the gypsy camp had
been. He went up to George, and gave a sniff.
‘You
said I could have a bike,’ he said.
‘I
know,’ said George. ‘You shall have one, Sniffer. If you hadn’t left us patrins
in that hill, we’d never have escaped!’
‘And
you said I could live in a house and ride my bike to school,’ said Sniffer
urgently. ‘I can’t go back to my father, he’d half-kill me now. He saw those
patrins I left in the hill and he chased me all over the moor for miles. But he
didn’t catch me. I hid.’
‘We’ll
do the best we can for you,’ promised Julian, sorry for this little waif.
Sniffer sniffed.
‘Where’s
that hanky?’ demanded George. He pulled it out of his pocket, still clean and
folded. He beamed at her.
‘You’re
quite hopeless,’ said George. ‘Listen, if you want to go to school, you’ll have
to stop that awful sniff and use your hanky. See?’
Sniffer
nodded, but put the hanky carefully back into his pocket. Then the sergeant
came into the quarry and Sniffer fled at the sight of him!
‘Funny
little thing,’ said Julian. ‘Well, I should imagine that his father will be
sent to prison for his share in this affair, so Sniffer will be able to get his
wish and leave the caravan life to live in a house. We might be able to get him
into a good home.’
‘And
I shall keep my word, and take some money out of my savings-bank and buy him a
bicycle,’ said George. ‘He deserves it! Oh, do look at Liz - simply adoring
Timmy and his patch. Don’t look so important, Tim - it’s only a patch on your
cut!’
‘Sniffer!’
called Julian. ‘Come back. You needn’t be afraid of this policeman. He is a
friend of ours. He’ll help us to choose a bicycle for you.’
The
sergeant looked extremely surprised at this remark, but at any rate it brought
Sniffer back at once!
‘Well,
we’ll go back now,’ said the sergeant. ‘We’ve got what we want, and Wilkins has
already started back to get somebody on to watching the gypsies. Once we find
out who they have to report to about this forged money we shall feel happy.’
‘I
hope Wilkins went along down the railway,’ said Julian. ‘It’s so easy to get
lost on this moor.’
‘Yes.
He had the sense to do that, after hearing how you got lost!’ said the
sergeant. ‘It’s wonderful up here, isn’t it, so peaceful and quiet and calm.’
‘Yes,
you’d never think that mysteries could happen up here, would you?’ said Dick.
‘Old ones, and new ones! Well, I’m glad we happened to be mixed up in the
newest one. It was quite an adventure!’
They
all went back to the stables, to find that it was now almost dinner-time and
that everyone had a very large appetite to match the very large dinner that Mrs
Johnson had got ready. The girls went upstairs to wash. George went into
Henry’s room.
‘Henry,’
she said, ‘thanks most awfully. You’re as good as a boy any day!’
‘Thanks,
George,’ said Henry, surprised. ‘You’re better than a boy!’
Dick
was passing the door and heard all this. He laughed, and stuck his head in at
the door.
‘I
say do let me share in these compliments!’ he said. ‘Just tell me I’m as good
as a girl, will you?’
But
all he got was a well-aimed hair-brush and a shoe, and he fled away, laughing.
Anne
gazed out of her bedroom window over the moor. It looked so peaceful and serene
under the April sun. No mystery about it now!
‘All
the same, it’s a good name for you,’ said Anne. ‘You’re full of mystery and
adventure, and your last adventure waited for us to come and share it. I really
think I’d call this adventure “Five Go To Mystery Moor”.’
It’s
a good name, Anne. We’ll call it that too!