Five Run Away Together
It
was exciting, remembering all the things that had happened last year. It made
George long all the more for the next day, when her three friends would arrive.
"I
wish Mother would let us go and live on the island for a week," thought
George. "That would be the greatest fun we could have. To live on my very
own island!"
It
was George's island. It really belonged to her mother, but she had said, two or
three years back, that George could have it, and George now thought of it as
really her
own.
She felt that all the rabbits on it belonged to her, all the wild birds and
other creatures.
"I'll
suggest that we go there for a week, when the others come," she thought,
excitedly. "We'll take our food and everything, and live there quite by
ourselves. We shall feel like Robinson Crusoe."
She
went to meet her cousins the next day, driving the pony and trap by herself.
Her mother wanted to come, but she said she did not feel very well. George felt
a bit worried about her. So often lately her mother had said she didn't feel
very well. Perhaps it was the heat of the summer. The weather had been so very
hot lately. Day after day had brought nothing but blue sky and sunshine. George
had been burnt a dark-brown, and her eyes were startlingly blue in her sunburnt
face. She had had her hair cut even shorter than usual, and it really was
difficult to know whether she was a boy or a girl.
The
train came in. Three hands waved madly from a window, and George shouted in delight.
"Julian!
Dick! Anne! You're here at last."
The
three children tumbled pell-mell out of their carriage. Julian yelled to a
porter.
"Our
bags are in the guard's van. Hallo, George! How are you? Golly, you've
grown."
They
all had. They were all a year older and a year bigger than when they had had
their exciting adventures on
There
was a terrific noise. They all shouted their news at once, and Timothy barked
without stopping. "We thought the
train would never get here!"
"Oh
Timothy, you darling, you're just the same as ever!"
"Woof,
woof, woof!"
"Mother's
sorry she couldn't come and meet you too."
"George,
how brown you are! I say, aren't we going to have fun."
"WOOF,
WOOF!"
"Shut
up, Tim darling, and do get down; you've bitten my tie almost in half. Oh, you
dear old dog, it's grand to see you!"
"WOOF!"
The
porter wheeled up their luggage, and soon it was in the pony-cart. George
clicked to the waiting pony, and it cantered off. The five in the little cart
all talked at once at the top of their voices, Tim far more loudly than anyone
else, for his doggy voice was strong and powerful.
"I
hope your mother isn't ill?" said Julian, who was fond of his Aunt Fanny.
She was gentle and kind, and loved having them all.
"I
think it must be the heat," said George.
"What
about Uncle Quentin?" asked Anne. "Is he all right?"
The
three children did not very much like George's father, because he could get
into very fierce tempers, and although he welcomed the three cousins to his
house, he did not really care for children. So they always felt a little
awkward with him, and were glad when he was not there.
"Father's
all right," said George, cheerfully. "Only he's worried about Mother.
He doesn't seem to notice her much when she's well and cheerful, but he gets
awfully upset if anything goes wrong with her. So be a bit careful of him at
the moment. You know what he's like when he's worried."
The
children did know. Uncle Quentin was best avoided when things went wrong. But
not even the thought of a cross uncle could damp them today. They were on
holiday; they were going to Kirrin Cottage; they were by the sea, and there was
dear old Timothy beside them, and fun of all kinds in store for them.
"Shall
we go to
"Of
course we'll go," said George, her blue eyes shining. "Do you know
what I thought? I thought it would be marvellous to go and stay there for a
whole week by ourselves! We are older now, and I'm sure Mother would let
us."
"Go
and stay on your island for a week!" cried Anne. "Oh! That would be
too good to be true."
"Our
island," said George, happily. "Don't you remember I said I would
divide it into four, and we'd all share it? Well, I meant it, you know. It's
ours, not mine."
"What
about Timothy?" said Anne. "Oughtn't he to have a share as well?
Can't we make it five bits, one for him too?"
"He
can share mine," said George. She drew the pony to a stop, and the four
children and the dog gazed out
across
the blue bay. "There's
"Then
we can all go together," said Dick. "I wonder if the rabbits are just
as tame as ever."
"Woof!"
said Timothy at once. He had only to hear the word "rabbits" to get
excited.
"It's
no good your thinking about the rabbits on Kirrin," said George. "You
know I don't allow you to chase them, Tim."
Timothy's
tail dropped and he looked mournfully at George. It was the only thing on which
he and George did not agree. Tim was firmly convinced that rabbits were meant
for him to chase, and George was just as firmly convinced that they were not.
"Get
on!" said George to the pony, and jerked the reins.
A
sour-faced woman came out from the back door to help them down with their
luggage. The children did not . know her.
"Who's
she?" they whispered to George.
"The
new cook," said George. "Joanna had to go and look after her mother,
who broke her leg. Then Mother got this cook—Mrs. Stick her name is."
"Good
name for her," grinned Julian. "She looks a real old stick! But all
the same I hope she doesn't stick here for long. I hope Joanna comes back. I
liked old fat Joanna, and she was nice to Timmy."
"Mrs.
Stick has a dog too," said George. "A dreadful
animal,
smaller than Tim, all sort of mangy and moth-eaten. Tim can't bear it."
"Where
is it?" asked Anne, looking round.
"It's
kept in the kitchen, and Tim isn't allowed near it," said George.
"Good thing too, because I'm sure he'd eat it! He can't think what's in
the kitchen, and goes sniffing round the shut door till Mrs. Stick nearly goes
mad."
The
others laughed. They had all climbed down from the pony-cart now, and were
ready to go indoors. Julian had helped Mrs. Stick in with all the bags. George
took the pony-cart away, and the other three went in to say how-do-you-do to
their uncle and aunt.
"Well,
dears," said Aunt Fanny, smiling at them from
the
sofa where she was lying down. "How are you all? I'm
sorry
I could not come to meet you. Uncle Quentin is out
_for
a walk. You had better go upstairs, and wash and
change.
Then come down for tea."
The
boys went up to their old bedroom, with its queer slanting roof, and its window
looking out over the bay. Anne went to the little room she shared with George.
How good it was to be back again at Kirrin! What fun they would have these
holidays with George and dear old Timmy!
Chapter
Two.
THE
STICK FAMILY.
IT
was lovely to wake up the next morning at Kirrin Cottage and see the sun
shining in at the windows, and to hear the far-off plash-plash-plash of the
sea. It was gorgeous to leap out of bed and rush to see how blue the sea was,
and how lovely
"I'm
going for a bathe before breakfast," said Julian, and snatched up his
bathing trunks. "Coming, Dick?"
"You
bet!" said Dick. "Call the girls. We'll all go."
So
down they went, the four of them, with Tim galloping behind them, his tail
wagging nineteen to the dozen, and his long pink tongue hanging out of his
mouth. He went into the water with the others, and swam all round them. They
were all good swimmers', but Julian and George were the best.
They
put towels round themselves, rubbed their bodies dry and pulled on jeans and
jerseys. Then back to breakfast they went, as hungry as hunters. Anne noticed a
boy in the back garden and stared in surprise.
"Who's
that?" she said.
"Oh,
that's Edgar, Mrs. Stick's boy," said George. "I don't like him. He
does silly things, like putting out his tongue and calling rude names."
Edgar
appeared to be singing when the others went in at the gate. Anne stopped to
listen.
"Georgie-Porgie,
pudding and pie!"  He seemed about
thirteen or fourteen, a stupid, yet sly-looking youth. "Georgie-porgie
pudding and pie!"
George
went red. "He's always singing that," she said, furiously. "Just
because I'm called "George", I suppose. He thinks he's clever. I
can't bear him."
Julian
called out to Edgar.  You're not funny, only jolly
silly!"
"Georgie-porgie,"
began Edgar again, a silly smile on his wide red face. Julian made a step
towards him, and he at once disappeared into the house.
"Shan't
stand much of him," said Julian, in a decided voice. "I wonder you
do, George.  You used to be so fierce."
"Well—I
am still, really," said George. "I feel frightfully fierce down
inside me when I hear Edgar singing silly songs at me like that and calling out
names—but you see, Mother really hasn't been well, and I know jolly well if I
go for Edgar, Mrs. Stick will leave, and poor old Mother would have to do all
the work, and she really isn't fit to at present. So I just hold myself in, and
hope that Timmy will do the same."
"Good
for you, old thing!" said Julian, admiringly, for he knew how hard it was
for George to keep her temper at times.
"I
think I'll just go up to Mother's room and see if she'd like breakfast in
bed," said George.
"Hang
on to old Timmy a moment, will you? If Edgar appears again, he might go for
him."
Julian
hung on to Timmy's collar. Timmy had growled when Edgar had been in the garden,
now he stood stock still, his nose twitching as if he were trying to trace some
smell.
Suddenly
a mangy-looking dog appeared out of the kitchen door. It had a dirty white
coat, out of which patches seemed to have been bitten, and its tail was well
between its legs.
"Wooooof!"
said Timmy, joyfully, and leapt at the dog. He pulled Julian over, for he was a
big dog, and the boy let go his hold of the dog's collar. Timmy pounced
excitedly on the other dog, who gave a fearful whine and tried to go into the
kitchen door again.
"Timmy!
Come here, sir!" yelled Julian. But Timmy didn't hear. He was busy trying
to snap off the other dog's ears—or at least, that is what he appeared to be
doing. The other dog yelled for help, and Mrs. Stick appeared at the kitchen
door, a saucepan in her hand.
"Call
off that dog!" she screeched. She hit out at Timmy with the saucepan, but
he dodged and it hit her own dog instead, making it yelp all the more.
"Don't
hit out with that!" said Julian. "You'll hurt the dogs. Hi, Timmy,
TIMMY!"
Edgar
now appeared, looking very scared. He picked up a stone and seemed to be
watching his chance to hurl it at Timmy. Anne shrieked.
"You're
not to throw that stone; you're not to! You bad wicked boy!"
In
the middle of all this turmoil Uncle Quentin appeared, looking angry and
irritable.
"Good
heavens! What is all this going on? I never heard such a row in my life."
Then
George appeared, flying out of the door like the wind, to rescue her beloved
Timothy. She rushed to the two dogs and tried to pull Timmy away. Her father
yelled at her.
 Don't you know better than to separate two fighting
dogs with your bare hands? Where's the garden hose?"
It
was fixed to a tap nearby. Julian ran to it and turned on the tap. He picked up
the hose and turned it on the two dogs. At once the jet of water spurted out at
them, and they leapt apart in surprise. Julian saw Edgar standing near, and
couldn't resist swinging the hose a little so that the boy was soaked. He gave
a scream and ran in at once. .
"What
did you do that for?" said Uncle Quentin, annoyed. "George, tie
Timothy up at once. Mrs. Stick didn't I tell you not to let your dog out of the
kitchen unless .you had him on a lead? I won't have this kind of thing
happening. Where's the breakfast? Late as usual!"
Mrs.
Stick disappeared into the kitchen, muttering and grumbling, taking her
drenched dog with her. George, looking sulky, tied Timothy up. He lay down in
his kennel, looking beseechingly at his mistress.
"I've
told you not to take any notice of that mangy-looking dog," said George,
severely. "Now you see what happens! You put Father into a bad temper for
the rest of the day, and Mrs. Stick will be so angry she won't make any cakes
for tea!"
Timmy
gave a whine, and put his head down on his paws. He licked a few hairs from the
corner of his mouth. It was sad to be tied up—but anyhow he had bitten
a
bit off the tip of one of that dreadful dog's ears!
They
all went in to breakfast. "Sorry I let Timmy go," said Julian to
George.  I couldn't possibly hold him! He's
grown into an awfully powerful dog, hasn't he?"
"Yes,"
said George, proudly. "He has. He could eat Mrs. Stick's dog up in a
mouthful if we'd let him. And Edgar too."
"And
Mrs. Stick," said Anne. "All .of them. I don't like any of
them."
Breakfast
was rather a subdued meal, as Aunt Fanny was not there, but Uncle Quentin
was—and Uncle Quentin in a bad temper was not a very cheerful person to have at
the breakfast-table. He snapped at George and glared at the others. Anne almost
wished they hadn't come to Kirrin Cottage! But her spirits rose when she thought
of the rest of the day—they would take their dinner out, perhaps, and have it
on the beach—or maybe even go out to Kirrin Island. Uncle Quentin wouldn't be
with them to spoil things.
Mrs.
Stick appeared to take away the porridge plates and bring in the bacon. She
banged the plates down on the table.
"No
need to do that," said Uncle Quentin, irritably. Mrs. Stick said nothing.
She was scared of Uncle Quentin, and no wonder! She put the next lot of plates
down quietly.
"What
are. you going to do today?" asked Uncle Quentin, towards the end of
breakfast. He was feeling a little better by that time, and didn't like to see
such subdued faces round him.
"We
thought we might go out for a picnic," said George, eagerly. "I asked
Mother. She said we might, if Mrs. Stick will make us sandwiches."
"Well,
I shouldn't think she'll try very hard," said Uncle Quentin, trying to
make a little joke. They all smiled politely. "But you can ask her."
There
was a silence. Nobody liked the idea of asking Mrs. Stick for sandwiches.
"I
do wish she hadn't brought Stinker," said George, gloomily.
"Everything would be easier if he wasn't here."
"Is
that the name of her son?" asked Uncle Quentin, startled.
George
grinned. "Oh no. Though it wouldn't be a bad name for him, because he
hardly ever has a bath, and he's jolly smelly. It's her dog I mean.
"I
don't think it's a very nice name," said her father, in the midst of the
others" giggles.
"No,
it isn't," said George; "but then, he isn't a very nice dog."
In
the end it was Aunt Fanny who saw Mrs. Stick and arranged about the sandwiches.
Mrs. Stick went up to see Aunt Fanny, who was having breakfast in bed, and
agreed to make sandwiches, though with a very bad grace.
"I
didn't bargain for three more children to come traipsing along," she said,
sulkily.
"I
told you they were coming, Mrs. Stick," said Aunt Fanny, patiently.
"I didn't know I should be feeling so ill myself when they came. If I had
been well I could have
made
their sandwiches and done many more things. I can only ask you to help as much
as you can till I feel better. I may be all right tomorrow. Let the children
have a good time for a week or so, and then, if I still feel ill, I am sure
they will all turn to and help a bit. But let them have a good time
first."
The
children took their packets of sandwiches and set off.   he said. "Let's go to that island. I know a lot
about it, I do."
"No,
you don't," said George, in a flash. "You don't know anything about
it. And I'd never take you. It's my island, see? Well, ours. It belongs to all
four of us and Timmy, too. We should never allow you to go."
"'Tisn't
your island," said Edgar. "That's a lie, that is!"
"You
don't know what you're talking about," said George, scornfully. "Come
on, you others! We can't waste time talking to Edgar."
They
left him, looking sulky and angry. As soon as they were at a safe distance he
lifted up his voice:
"Georgie-porgie,
pudding and pie, She knows how to tell a lie, Georgie-porgie, pudding and
pie!"
Julian
made as if he would go back after the rude Edgar, but George pulled him on.
"He'll only go and tell tales to his mother, and she'll walk out and
there'll be no one to help Mother," she said. "I'll just have to put
up with it. We'll try and think of some way to get our own back, though. Nasty
creature!
"Woof!"
said Timmy, feelingly.
 That made them feel better. They were soon out of
hearing of Edgar's silly song, and forgot all about him.
"Let's
go and see if your boat is ready," said Julian. "Then maybe we could
row out to the dear old island."
Chapter
Three.
A
NASTY SHOCK.
GEORGE'S
boat was almost ready, but not quite. It was having a last coat of paint on it.
It looked very gay, for George had chosen a bright red paint, and the oars were
painted red too.
"Oh,
can't we possibly have it this afternoon?" said George to Jim the boatman.
He
shook his head.
"No,
Master George," he said, "not unless you all want to be messed up
with red paint. It'll be dry tomorrow, but not before."
It
always made the others smile to hear the boatmen and fishermen call
So
"We'll
go to the island tomorrow then," said Julian. "We'll just picnic on
the beach today. Then we'll go for a walk."
So
they picnicked on the sands with Timothy sharing more than half their lunch.
The sandwiches were not very nice. The bread was too stale; there was not
enough butter inside, and they were far too thick. But Timothy didn't mind. He
gobbled up as many as he could, his tail wagging so hard that it sent sand over
everyone.
"Timothy,
do take your tail out of the sand if you want to wag it," said Julian,
getting sand all over his hair for the fourth time. Timmy wagged his tail hard
again, and sent another shower over him. Everyone laughed.
"Let's
go for a walk now," said Dick, jumping up. "My legs could do with
some good exercise. Where shall we go?"
"We'll
walk along the cliff-top, where we can see the island all the time, shall
we?" said Anne. "George, is the old wreck still there?"
George
nodded. The children had once had a most exciting time with an old wreck that
had lain at the bottom of the sea. A great storm had lifted it up and set it
firmly on the rocks. They had been able to explore the wreck then, and had
found a map of the castle in it, with instructions as to where hidden treasure
was to be found.
"Do
you remember how we found that old map in the wreck, and how we looked for the
ingots of gold and found them?" said Julian, his eyes gleaming as he
remembered it all. "Isn't the wreck battered to pieces yet, George?"
"No,"
said George. "I don't think so. It's on the rocks on the other side of the
island, you remember, so we can't see it from here. But we might have a look at
it when we go on the island tomorrow."
"Yes,
let's," said Anne. "Poor old wreck!
They
walked along the cliff-top with Timothy capering ahead of them. They could see
the island easily and the ruined castle rising up from the middle.
"There's
the jackdaw tower," said Anne, looking. "The
other
tower's fallen down hasn't it? Look at the jackdaws circling round and round
the tower, George!"
"Yes.
They build in it every year," said George. "Don't you remember the
masses of sticks round about the tower that the jackdaws dropped when they
built their nests?
"I'd
like to do that again," said Anne. "I would really. Let's do it each
night if we stay a week on the island. George, did you ask your mother?"
"Oh
yes," said George. "She said she thought we might, but she would
see."
"I
don't like it when grown-ups say they'll see," said Anne. "It so
often means they won't let you do something after all, but they don't like to
tell you at the time."
"Well,
I expect she will let us," said George. "After all, we're much older
than last year. Why, Julian is in his teens already, and I soon shall be and so
will Dick. Only Anne is small."
"I'm
not," said Anne, indignantly. "I'm as strong as you are. I can't help
being younger."
"Hush,
hush, baby!" said Julian, patting his little sister on the back and
laughing at her furious face. "Hallo—look! What's that over there on the
island?"
He
had caught sight of something as he was teasing Anne. Everyone swung round and
gazed at Kirrin. George gave an exclamation.
"Golly—a
spire of smoke! Surely it's smoke! Someone's on my island."
"On
our island," corrected Dick. "It can't be! That smoke must come from
a steamer out beyond the island. We can't see it, that's all. But I bet the
smoke comes from
a
steamer. We know no one can get to the island but us. They don't know the
way."
"If
anyone's on my island," began George, looking very fierce and angry,
"if anyone's on my island, I'll—I'll—I'll . . ."
"You'll
explode and go up in smoke!" said Dick. "There—it's gone now.
They
watched Kirrin Island for some time after that, but they could see no more
smoke. "If only my boat was ready!" said George, restlessly.
"I'd go over this afternoon. I've a good mind to go and get my boat, even
if the paint tr wet."
"Don't
be an idiot!" said Julian.  Have a bit of sense,
George."
George
gave up the idea. She watched for a steamer to appear at one side of the island
or another, to come into the bay, but none came.
"Probably
anchored out there," said Dick. "Come on! Are we going to stand
rooted to this spot for the rest of the day?"
"We'd
better get back home," said Julian, looking at his wrist-watch. "It's
almost tea-time.  It's much nicer when she's
at meals."
"Oh,
I expect she will be," said George. "Come on, then let's go
back!"
They
turned to go back. They watched Kirrin Island as they walked, but all they
could see was jackdaws or gulls in the sky above it. No more spires of smoke
appeared. It must have been a steamer!
"All
the same, I'm going over tomorrow to have a look," said George, firmly.
"If any trippers are visiting my island I'll turn them off." "
"Our
island," said Dick. "George, I wish you'd remember you said you'd
share it with us."
"Well—I
did share it out with you," said George, "but I can't help feeling
it's still my island. Come on! I'm getting hungry."
They
came back at last to Kirrin Cottage. They went into the hall, and then into the
sitting-room. To their great surprise Edgar was there, reading one of Julian's
books.
"What
are you doing here?" said Julian. "And who told you you could borrow
my book?"
"I'm
not doing any harm," said Edgar. "If I want to have a quiet read, why
shouldn't I?"
"You
wait till my Father comes in and finds you lolling about here," said
George. "My goodness, if you'd gone into his study, you'd have been sorry."
"I've
been in there," said Edgar, surprisingly. "I've seer those funny
instruments he's working with."
"How
dare you!" said George, going white with rage "Why, even we are not
allowed to go into my Father'; study. As for touching his things — well!"
Julian
eyed Edgar curiously. He could not imagine why the boy should suddenly be so
insolent.
"Where's
your father, George?" he said. "I think we had better get him to deal
with Edgar. He must be mad.
"Call
him if you like," said Edgar, still lolling in the chair, and flicking
over the pages of Julian's book in a most irritating way. "He won't
come."
"What
do you mean?" said George, feeling suddenly scared. "Where's my
mother?"
"Call
her too, if you like," said the boy, looking sly. "Go on! Call her."
The
children suddenly felt afraid. What did Edgar mean? George flew upstairs to her
mother's room, shouting loudly.
"Mother!
Mother! Where are you?"
But
her mother's bed was empty. It had not been made—but it was empty. George flew
into all the other bedrooms, shouting desperately: "Mother! Mother!
Father! Where are you?"
But
there was no answer. George ran downstairs, her face very white. Edgar grinned
up at her.
"What
did I tell you?" he said. "I said you could call all you liked, but
they wouldn't come."
"Where
are they?" demanded George. "Tell me at once!"
"Find
out yourself," said Edgar.
There
was a resounding slap, and Edgar leapt to his feet, holding his left cheek with
his hand. George had flown at him and dealt him the hardest smack she could.
Edgar lifted his hand to slap her back, but Julian stood in front.
"You're
not fighting George," he said. "She's a girl. If you want a fight,
I'll take you on."
"I
won't be a girl; I'm a boy!" shouted George, trying to push Julian away.
"I'll fight Edgar, and I'll beat him, you see if I don't."
But
Julian kept her off. Edgar began to edge towards the doorway, but he found Dick
there.
"One
minute," said Dick. "Before you go — where are our uncle and
aunt?"
"Gr-r-r-r-r-r-r,"
suddenly said Timothy, in such a threatening voice that Edgar stared at him in
fright. The
dog
had bared his great teeth, and had put up the hackles on his neck. He looked
very frightening.
"Hold
that dog!" said Edgar, his voice trembling. "He looks as if he's
going to spring at me."
Julian
put his hand on Tim's collar. "Quiet, Tim!" he said. "Now,
Edgar, tell us what we want to know, and tell us quickly, or you'll be
sorry."
"Well,
there isn't much to tell," said Edgar, keeping his eye on Timothy. He shot
a look at George and went on. "Your mother was suddenly taken very ill —
with a terrible pain here—and they got the doctor and they've taken her away to
hospital, and your father went with her. That's all!"
George
sat down on the sofa, looking paler still and rather sick.
"Oh!"
she said. "Poor Mother! I wish I hadn't gone out today. Oh dear—how can we
find out what's happened?"
Edgar
had slipped out of the room, shutting the door behind him so that Timmy should
not follow. The kitchen door was slammed, too. The children stared at one
another, feeling sorry and dismayed. Poor George! Poor Aunt Fanny!
"There
must be a note somewhere," said Julian, and looked round the room. He saw
a letter stuck into the rim of the big mirror there, addressed to George. He
gave it to her. It was from George's father. , "Read it, quickly,"
said Anne. "Oh dear—this is really a horrid beginning to our holidays
here!"
Chapter
Four.
A
FEW LITTLE UPSETS.
GEORGE
read the letter out loud. It was not very long, and had evidently been written
in a great hurry.
 I am going with her to the hospital. I shall
not leave her till she is getting better. That may be in a few days" time,
or in a week's time. I will telephone to you each day at nine o'clock in the
morning to tell you how she is. Mrs. Stick will look after you all. Try to
manage all right till I come back.
Your
loving. FATHER.
"Oh
dear!" said Anne, knowing how dreadful George must feel. George loved her
mother dearly, and for once in a way the girl had tears in her eyes. George
never cried—but it was terrible to come home and find her mother gone like
this. And Father too! No one there but Mrs. Stick and Edgar.
 "She—she might never come back."
"Don't
be silly, George," said Julian, sitting down and putting his arm round
her. "Of course she will. Why shouldn't she? Didn't your father say he was
staying with her till she was getting better—and that would be
probably
in a few days" time, Cheer up, George! It isn't like you to give way like
this."
"But
I didn't say good-bye," sobbed poor George. "And I made her ask Mrs.
Stick for the sandwiches, instead of me. I want to go and find Mother and see
how she is myself."
"You
don't know where they've taken her, and if you did, they wouldn't let you
in," said Dick, gently. "Let's have some tea. We shall all feel
better after that."
"I
couldn't eat anything," said George, fiercely. Timothy pushed his nose into
her hands, and tried to lick them. They were under her buried face. The dog
whined a little.
"Poor
Timmy! He can't understand," said Anne. "He's awfully upset because
you are unhappy, George."
That
made George sit up.  He looked surprised at the
salty taste. He tried to get on to George's knee.
"Silly
Timmy!" said George, in a more ordinary voice. "Don't be upset. I
just got a shock, that's all! I'm better now, Timmy. Don't whine like that,
silly! I'm all right. I'm not hurt."
But
Timothy felt certain George was really hurt or injured in some way to cry like
that, and he kept whining, and pawing at George, and trying to get on to her
knee.
Julian
opened the door. "I'm going to tell Mrs. Stick we want our tea," he
said, and went out. The others thought he was rather brave to face Mrs. Stick.
Julian
went to the kitchen door and opened it. Edgar was sitting there, one side of
his face scarlet, where George had slapped it. Mrs. Stick was there, looking
grim,
"If
that girl slaps my Edgar again I'll be after her," she said,
threateningly.
"Edgar
deserved what he got," said Julian, "Can we have some tea,
please?"
"I've
a good mind to get you none," said Mrs. Stick. Her dog started up from its
corner and growled at Julian. "That's right, Tinker! You growl at folks
that slap Edgar,I said Mrs. Stick.
Julian
was not in the least afraid of Tinker. "If you are not going to get us any
tea, I'll get it myself," said the boy. "Where is the bread, and
where are the cakes?"
Mrs.
Stick stared at Julian, and the boy looked back al her steadfastly. He thought
she was a most unpleasant woman, and he certainly was not going to allow her to
get the better of him. He wished he could tell her to go—
but
he had a feeling that she wouldn't, so it would be a waste of his breath.
Mrs.

"And
if I have any nonsense from you I shall go to the police," said Julian,
unexpectedly. He hadn't meant to say that. It came out quite suddenly, but it
had a surprising effect on Mrs. Stick. She looked startled and alarmed.
"Now,
there's no call to be nasty," she said in a much more polite voice.
"We've all had a bit of a shock, and we're upset, like—I'll get you your
tea right now."
Julian
went out. He wondered why his sudden threat of going to the police had made
Mrs. Stick so much more polite. Perhaps she was afraid the police would get on
to his Uncle Quentin and "he would come tearing back. Uncle Quentin
wouldn't care for a hundred Mrs. Sticks!
He
went back to "the others. "Tea's coming," he said. "So
cheer up, everyone!"
It
wasn't a very cheerful company that sat down to the tea Mrs. Stick brought in.
George was now feeling ashamed of her tears. Anne was still upset.  Julian was grave and helpful, suddenly very grown-up.
Timothy
sat close beside George, his head on her knee. "I do wish I had a dog who
loved me like that," thought Anne. Timmy kept gazing up at George out of
big brown devoted eyes. He had no eyes or ears for anyone but his little
mistress now she was sad.
Nobody
noticed what they had for tea, but all the same
it
did them goodIand they felt better after it. They didn't like to go out to the
beach afterwards in case the telephone bell rang, and there was news of
George's mother. So they sat about in the garden, keeping an ear open for the
telephone.
From
the kitchen came a song.
"Georgie-porgie,
pudding and pie, Sat herself down and had a good cry, Georgie-porgie . .
."
Julian
got up. He went to the kitchen window and looked in. Edgar was there alone.
"Come
on out here, Edgar!" said Julian, in a grim voice. I'll teach you to sing
another song. Come along!"
Edgar
didn't stir. "Can't I sing if I want to?" he said.
"Oh
yes," said Julian, "but not that song. I'll teach you another. Come
along out!"
"No
fear," said Edgar. "You want to fight me."
"Yes,
I do," said Julian. "I think a little bit of good honest fighting
would be better for you than sitting singing nasty little songs about a girl
who is miserable. Are you coming out? Or shall I come in and fetch you?"
"Ma!"
called Edgar, suddenly feeling panicky. "Ma! Where are you?"
Julian
suddenly reached a long arm in at the window, caught hold of Edgar's over-long
nose, and pulled it so hard that Edgar yelled in pain.
"Led
go! Led go! You're hurding me! Led go by dose!"
Mrs.
Stick came hurrying into the kitchen. She gave a scream when she saw what
Julian was doing. She flew at
him.
Julian withdrew his arm, and stood outside the window.
"How
dare you!" yelled Mrs. Stick. "First that girl slaps Edgar, and then
you pull his nose! What's the matter with you all?"
"Nothing,"
said Julian, pleasantly; "but there's an awful lot wrong with Edgar, Mrs.
Stick. We feel we just must put it right. It should be your job, of course, but
you don't seem to have done it."
"You're
downright insolent," said Mrs. Stick, outraged and furious.
"Yes,
I dare say I am," said Julian. "It's just the effect Edgar has on me.
Stinker has the same effect."
"Stinker!"
cried Mrs. Stick, getting angrier still. "That's not my dog's name, and
well you know it."
"Well,
it really ought to be," said Julian, strolling off. "Give him a bath,
and maybe we'll call him Tinker instead."
Leaving
Mrs. Stick muttering in fury, he went back to the others. They stared at him
curiously. He somehow seemed a different Julian—a grim and determined Julian, a
very grown-up Julian, a rather frightening Julian.
"I'm
afraid the fat's in the fire now," said Julian, sitting down on the grass.
 I guess it's open warfare now! We shan't have a very merry time from now
on. I doubt if we'll get any meals."
"We'll
get them ourselves then," said George. "I hate Mrs. Stick. I wish
Joanna would come back. I hate that horrid Edgar too, and that awful Stinker."
"Look—there
is Stinker!" suddenly said Dick, putting
out
his hand to catch Timothy, who had risen with a growl. But Timmy shook off his
hand and leapt across the grass at once. Stinker gave a woeful howl and tried
to escape.  Julian rushed for the hose again. Edgar skipped indoors at once,
remembering what had happened to him before.
The
water gushed out, and Timothy gave a gasp and let go the howling mongrel he
held in his teeth. Stinker at once hurled himself on Mrs. Stick, and tried to
hide in her skirts trembling with terror.
"I'll
poison that dog of yours!" said Mrs. Stick, furiously, to George. "Always
setting on to mine. You look out or I'll poison him."
She
disappeared indoors, and the four children went and sat down again. George
looked really alarmed. "Do you suppose she really might try to poison
Timmy?" she asked Julian, in a scared voice.
"She's
a nasty bit of work," said Julian, in a low tone. "I think it would
be just as well to keep old Timmy close by us, day and night, and only to feed
him ourselves, from our own plates."
George
pulled Timothy to her, horrified at the thought that anyone might want to
poison him. But Mrs. Stick really was awful—she might do anything like that,
George thought. How she wished her father and mother were back! It was horrid
to be on their own, like this.
The
telephone bell suddenly shrilled out and made everyone jump. They all leapt to
their feet, and Timmy
growled.
George flew indoors and lifted the receiver. She heard her father's voice, and
her heart began to beat fast.
"Is
that you, George?" said her father. "Are you all right? I hadn't time
to stay and tell you everything."
"Father—what
about Mother? Tell me quick—how is she?" said George.
"We
shan't know till the day after next," said her father. "I'll
telephone tomorrow morning and then the. next morning too. I shan't come back
till I know she's better."
"Oh
Father—it's awful without you and Mother," said poor George. "Mrs.
Stick is so horrid."
"Now,
George," said her father, rather impatiently, "surely you children
can see to yourselves and make do with Mrs. Stick till I get back! Don't worry
me about such things now. I've enough worry as it is."
"When
will you be back, do you think?" said George. "Can I come and see
Mother?"
"No,"
said her father. "Not for at least two weeks, they say. I'll be back as
soon as I can. But I'm not going to leave your Mother now. She needs me.
Good-bye and be good, all of you."
George
put back the receiver. She turned to face the others. "Shan't know about
Mother till the day after next," she said. "And we've got to put up
with Mrs. Stick till Father comes back—and goodness knows when that will be!
It's awful, isn't it?"
Chapter
Five.
IN
THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT.
MRS.
STICK was in such a bad temper that evening that there was no supper at all.
Julian went to ask about some, but he found the kitchen door locked.
He
went back to the others with a gloomy face, for they were all hungry.
"She's locked the door," he said. "She really is a dreadful
creature. I don't believe we'll get any supper tonight." "
"We'll
have to wait till she goes to bed," said George. "We'll go down and
hunt in the larder then, and see what we can find."
They
went to bed hungry. Julian listened for Mrs. Stick and Edgar to go to bed, too.
When he heard them going upstairs, and was sure their doors had shut, he
slipped down into the kitchen. It was dark there, and Julian was just about to
put on the light when he heard the sound of someone breathing heavily. He
wondered who it could be. Was it Stinker? No—it couldn't be the dog. It sounded
like a human being.
Julian
stood there, his hand over the light switch, puzzled and a little scared. It
couldn't be a burglar, because burglars don't go to sleep in the house they
have come to rob. It couldn't be Mrs. Stick or Edgar. Then who was it?
He
snapped on the light. The kitchen was flooded with radiance, and Julian's eyes
fastened on the figure of a
small
man lying on the sofa. He was fast asleep, his mouth wide open.
He was not a very pleasant sight. He had not
shaved for some days, and his cheeks and chin were bluish-black. He didn't seem
to have washed for even longer than that, for his hands were black, and so were
his finger-nails. He had untidy hair and a nose exactly like Edgar's.
"Must
be dear Edgar's father," thought Julian to himself. "What a sight!
Well, poor Edgar hadn't much chance to be decent with a father and mother like
his."
The
man snored. Julian wondered what to do. He
badly
wanted to go to the larder, but on the other hand he didn't particularly want
to wake up the man and have a row. He didn't see how he could turn him out—for
all he knew his aunt and uncle might have agreed to Mrs. Stick's husband coming
there now and again, though he hardly thought so.
Julian
was very hungry. The thought of the good things in the larder made him snap off
the light again and creep towards the larder door in the dark. He opened the
door. He felt along the shelves. Good!—that felt like a pie of some sort. He
lifted it up and sniffed. It smelt of meat. A meat-pie—good!
He
felt along the shelf again and came to a plate on which were what he thought
must be jam-tarts, for they were round and flat, and had something sticky in
the middle. Well, a meat-pie and jam-tarts ought to be all right for four
hungry children!
Julian
picked up the meat-pie and the dish of tarts, and made his way carefully out of
the larder. He pushed the door to with his foot. Then he turned to go out of
the room.
But
in the dark he went the wrong way, and by bad luck walked straight into the
sofa!  It landed
on the open mouth of the sleeping man, and woke him up with a start.
"Blow!"
said Julian to himself, and began to back away quietly, hoping that the man
would turn over and go to sleep again.
"Who's
there? That you, Edgar? What you doing down here?"
Julian
said nothing but sidled towards what he hoped was the door. The man leapt up
and lurched over to where he thought the light switch was. He found it and
switched it on. He stared in the greatest astonishment at Julian.
"What
are you doing here?" he demanded.
"Just
what I was about to ask you? said Julian, coolly. "What do you think
you're doing here, sleeping in my uncle's kitchen?"
"I've
a right to be here," said the man, in a rude voice. "My wife's cook
here, isn't she? My ship's in and I'm on leave. Your uncle arranged with my
wife I could come here then, see?"
Julian
had feared as much. How awful to have a Mr. Stick as well as a Mrs. and Master
Stick in the house! It would be quite unbearable.
"I
can ask my uncle about it when he telephones in the morning," said Julian.
"Now get out of my way, please. I want to go upstairs."
"Ho!"
said Mr. Stick, eyeing the meat-pie and jam-tarts that Julian was carrying.
"Ho! Stealing out of the larder, I see! Nice goings-on I must say."
Julian
was not going to argue with Mr. Stick, who evidently felt that he was top-dog.
"Get out of my way," he said. "I will talk to you in the morning
after my uncle has telephoned."
Mr.
Stick didn't seem as if he was going to get out of the way at all.
Julian
pursed up his lips and whistled. There came a bump on the floor above. That was
Timothy jumping off
George's
bed! Then there came the pattering of feet down the stairs ,and up the. kitchen
passage. Timmy was coming!
He
smelt Mr. Stick in the doorway, put up his hackles, bared his teeth and
growled. Mr. Stick hastily removed himself from the doorway and then neatly
banged the door in the dog's face. He grinned at Julian.
"Now
what are you going to do?" he said.
"Shall
I tell you?" said Julian, his temper suddenly rising. "I'm going to
hurl this nice juicy meat-pie straight into your grinning face!"
He
raised his arm, and Mr. Stock ducked.
"Now
don't you do that," he said. "I'm only pulling your leg, see?  You can go upstairs if you want to."
He
moved away to the sofa. Julian opened the door and Timothy bounded in growling.
Mr. Stick eyed him uncomfortably.
 "I don't like
dogs."
"Then
I wonder you don't get rid of Stinker," said Julian. "Come here,
Timmy! Leave him alone. He's not worth growling at."
Julian
went upstairs with Timothy close at his heels. The others crowded round him,
wondering what had happened, for they had heard the voices downstairs. They
laughed when Julian told them how he had nearly thrown the meat-pie at Mr. Stick.
"It
would have served him right," said Anne, "though it would have been a
great pity, because we shouldn't have been able to eat it. Well, Mrs. Stick may
be simply
horrible, but she can
cook. This pie is gorgeous."
The
children finished all the pie and the tarts, too. Julian told them all about
Mr. Stick coming on leave from his ship.
 "Pity we can't
get rid of them all and manage for ourselves. George, can't you possibly
persuade your father tomorrow to let us get rid of the Sticks and look after
ourselves?"
"I'll
try," said George. "But you know what he is—awfully difficult to
argue with. But I'll try. Golly, I'm sleepy now. Come on, Timmy, let's get to
bed! Lie on my feet. I'm hardly going to let you out of my sight now, in case
those awful Sticks poison you!"
Soon
the four children, now no longer hungry, were sleeping peacefully. They did not
fear the Sticks coming up to their rooms, for they knew that Timmy would wake
and warn them at once. Timmy was the best guard they could have.
In
the morning Mrs. Stick actually produced some sort of breakfast, which
surprised the children very much. "Guess she knows your father will
telephone, George," said Julian, "and she wants to keep herself in
the right. When did he say he would "phone? Nine o'clock, wasn't it? Well,
it's half-past eight now. Let's go for a quick run down to the beach and
back."
 The children couldn't help
thinking he must be a bit mad. He didn't behave at all like a boy of Julian's
age.
When
they came back it was about ten minutes to nine. "We'll sit in the
sitting-room till the telephone rings," said Julian. "We don't want
Mrs. Stick to answer it first."
But
to their great dismay, as they reached the house, they heard Mrs. Stick using
the telephone in the hall!
"Yes,
sir," they heard her say, "everything is quite all right. I can
manage the children, sir, even if they do make things a bit difficult. Yes,
sir. Of course, sir. Well, sir, it's lucky my husband is home on leave from his
ship, sir, because he can help me round, like, and it makes things easier.
 I'll manage everything."
George
flew into the hall like a wild thing, and snatched the receiver out of Mrs.
Stick's hand.
"Father!
It's me, George! How's Mother? Tell me quick!"
"No
worse, George," said her father's voice. "But we shan't know anything
definite till tomorrow morning. I'm glad to hear from Mrs. Stick that
everything is all right. I'm very upset and worried, and I'm glad to feel I can
tell your Mother that you are all right, and everything is going smoothly at
Kirrin Cottage."
"But
it isn't," said George, wildly. "It isn't. It's all horrid. Can't the
Sticks go and let us manage things by ourselves?"
"Good
gracious me, of course not," said her father's voice, surprised and
annoyed. "What can you be thinking of? I did hope, George, that you would
be sensible and helpful. I must say..."
"You
talk to him, Julian," said George, helplessly, and
thrust
the receiver into Julian's hand. The boy put it to his ear and spoke into the
telephone in his clear voice."
"Good
morning, sir. This is Julian! I'm glad my aunt is no worse."
"Well,
she will be if she thinks things are going wrong at Kirrin Cottage," said
Uncle Quentin, in an exasperated voice. "Can't you manage George and make
her see reason? Good gracious, can't she put up with the Sticks for a week or
two? I tell you frankly, Julian, I am not going to sack the Sticks in my
absence—I want the house ready for me to bring back your aunt. If you can't put
up with them, you had better find out from your own parents if they can take
you back for the rest of the holidays. But George is not to go with you. She is
to stay at Kirrin Cottage. That's my last word on the subject."
"But,
sir," began Julian, wondering how in the world he could deal properly with
his hot-tempered uncle, "I must tell you that . . ."
There
was a click at the other end of the "phone. Uncle Quentin had put down his
receiver and gone. There was no more to be said. Blow! Julian pursed up his
mouth and looked round at the others, frowning.
"He's
gone!" he said. "Cut me off just as I was trying to reason with
him."
"Serves
you right!" said Mrs. Stick's harsh voice from the end of the hall.
"Now you know where you stand. I'm here and I'm staying here, on your
uncle's orders.
Chapter
Six.
JULIAN
DEFEATS THE STICKS.
THERE
was a slam. The kitchen door shut, and Mrs. Stick could be heard telling the
news triumphantly to Edgar and Mr. Stick. The children went into the
sitting-room, sat down and stared at one another gloomily.
"Father's
awful!" said George, furiously. "He never will listen to
anything."
"Well,
after all, he is very upset," said Dick, reasonably. "It was a great
pity that he rang before nine, so that Mrs. Stick got her say in first."
"What
did Father say to you?" said George. "Tell us exactly."
 "But you were to stay
here."
George
stared at Julian.  I can look after myself."
"Don't
be an idiot!" said Julian, giving her arm a friendly shake, "You know
we wouldn't desert you. I can't say I look forward to the idea of being under
the thumb of the amiable Sticks for a week or two, but there are worse things
than that. We'll "stick" it together."
But
the feeble little joke didn't raise a smile, even from Anne. The idea of being
under the Sticks" three thumbs
was
a most unpleasant prospect. Timothy put his head on George's knee. She patted
him and looked round.
"You
go back home," she said to the others. "I've got a plan of my own,
and you're not in it. I've got Timmy, and he'll look after me. Telephone to
your parents and go home tomorrow."
George
stared round defiantly. Her head was up, and there was no doubt but that she
had made a plan of some sort.
Julian
felt uneasy.
"Don't
be silly," he said. "I tell you we all stand together in this. If you've
got a plan, we'll come into it. But we're staying here with you, whatever
happens."
"Stay
if you like," said George, "but my plan goes on, and you'll find
you'll have to go home in the end. Come on, Timothy! Let's go to Jim and see if
my boat is ready."
"We'll
go with you," said Dick. He was sorry for George. He could see below her
defiance, and he knew she was very unhappy, worried about her mother, angry
with her father, and upset because she felt the others were staying on because
of her, when they could go back home and have a lovely time.
It
was not a happy day. George was very stand-offish, and kept on insisting that
the others should go back home and leave her. She grew quite angry when they
were as insistent that they would not.
"You're
spoiling my plan," she said at last.
"Well,
what is your plan?" said Julian impatiently. "I
can't
help feeling you're just pretending you've got a plan, so that we'll go."
"I'm
not pretending," said George, losing her temper. "Do I ever pretend?
You know I don't! If I say I've got a plan, I have got a plan. But I'm not
giving it away, so it's no good asking me. It's my own secret, private
plan."
"Well,
I really do think you might tell us," said Dick, quite hurt. "After
all, we're your best friends, aren't we? And we're going to stick by you, plan
or no plan—yes, even if we spoil your plan, as you say, we shall still stay
here with you."

"You're mean. You're against me, just like the Sticks are."
"Oh,
George, don't," said Anne, almost in tears. "Don't let's quarrel.
It's bad enough quarrelling with those awful Sticks, without us quarrelling
too."
George's
temper died down as quickly as it had risen. She looked ashamed.
"Sorry!"
she said.  I won't quarrel. But I do mean what I say. I
shall go on with my plan, and I shan't tell you what it is, because if I do, it
will spoil the holidays for you. Please believe me."
"Let's
take our dinner out with us again," said Julian, getting up. "We'll
all feel better away from this house today. I'll go and tackle the old
Stick."
"Dear
old Ju, isn't he brave!"
Mrs. Stick
proved very difficult.
She felt rather
victorious
at the time, and was also very annoyed to find that her beautiful meat-pie and
jam-tarts had disappeared. Mr. Stick was in the middle of telling her where
they had gone when Julian appeared.
"How
you can expect sandwiches for a picnic when you've stolen my meat-pie and
jam-tarts, I don't know!" she began, indignantly. "You can have dry
bread and jam for your-picnic, and that's all. And what's more, I wouldn't give
you that either except that I'm glad to be rid of you."
"Good
riddance to bad rubbish," murmured Edgar to himself. He was lying sprawled
on the sofa, reading some kind of highly-coloured comic paper.
"If
you've anything to say to me, Edgar, come outside and say it," said
Julian, dangerously.
"You
leave Edgar alone," said Mrs. Stick, at once.
"There's
nothing I should like better," said Julian, scornfully. "Who wants to
be with him? Cowardly little spotty-face!"
"Now,
now, look "ere!" began Mr. Stick, from his corner. . .
"I
don't want to look at you," said Julian at once.
"Now, look "ere," said Mr.
Stick, angrily, standing up.
"I've
told you I don't want to," said Julian. "You're not a pleasant
sight."
"Insolence!"
said Mrs. Stick, rapidly losing her temper.
"No,
not insolence—just the plain truth," said Julian, airily. Mrs. Stick
glared at him. Julian defeated her. He had such a ready tongue, and he said
everything so politely. The ruder his words were, the more politely he spoke.
Mrs. Stick didn't understand people like Julian.
She
felt that they were too clever for her. She hated the boy, and banged a
saucepan viciously down on the sink, wishing that it was Julian's head under
the saucepan instead of the sink.
Stinker
jumped up and growled at the sudden noise.
"Hallo,
Stinker!" said Julian. "Had a bath yet? Alas, no! — as smelly as
ever, aren't you?"
"You
know that dog's name isn't Stinker," said Mrs. Stick, angrily. "You
get out of my kitchen."
"Right!"
said Julian. "Pleased to go. Don't bother about the dry bread and jam.
I'll manage something a bit better than that."
He
went out, whistling. Stinker growled, and Edgar repeated loudly what he had
said beIore: "Good riddance to bad rubbish!"
"What
did you say?" said Julian, suddenly poking his head in at the kitchen door
again. But Edgar did not dare to repeat it, so off went Julian again, whistling
merrily, but not feeling nearly as merry as his whistle. He was worried. After
all, if Mrs. Stick was going to make meals as difficult as this, life was not
going to be very pleasant at Kirrin Cottage.
"Anyone
feel inclined to have dry bread and jam for lunch?" inquired Julian, when
he returned to the others. "Not? I rather thought so, so I turned down
Mrs. Stick's kind offer. I vote we go and buy something decent. That shop in
the village has good sausage-rolls."
George
was very silent all that day. She was worrying about her mother, the others
knew. She was probably thinking about her plan too, they thought, and wondered
whatever it could be.
"Shall
we go over to Kirrin Island today?" asked Julian, thinking that it would
take George's mind off her worries, if they went to her beloved island.
George
shook her head.
"NoI
she said. "I don't feel like it. The boat's all ready, I know—but I just
don't feel like it. You-see, till I know Mother is going to get better, I don't
feel I want to be out of reach of the house. If a telephone message came from
Father; the Sticks could always send Edgar to look for me—and if I was on the
island, he couldn't find me."
The
children messed about that day, doing nothing at all. They went back to tea,
and Mrs. Stick provided them with bread and butter and jam, but no cake. The
milk was sour too, and everyone-had to have tea without milk, which they all
disliked.
As
they ate their tea, the children heard Edgar outside the window. He held a tin
bowl in his hand, and put it down on the grass outside.
"Your
dog's dinner," he yelled.
"He
looks like a dog's dinner himself," said Dick, in disgust. "Messy creature!"
That
made everyone laugh. "Edgar, the Dog's Dinner!" said Anne. "Any
biscuits in that tin on the sideboard, do you think, George?"
George
got up to see. Timothy slipped out of doors and went to the dish put down
for.him. He sniffed at it. George, coming back from the sideboard, looked out
of the window as she passed and saw him. At once the thought of poison came
back to her mind and she yelled to Timothy, making the others jump out of their
skins.
TIM!
TIM! Don't touch it!"
Timothy
wagged his tail as if to say he didn't mean to touch it, anyway. George rushed
out of doors, and picked up the mess of raw meat. She sniffed at it.
"You
haven't touched it, have you, Timothy?" she said, anxiously.
Dick
leaned out of the window.
.
"No, he didn't eat any. I watched him. He sniffed all round and about it,
but he wouldn't touch it. I bet it's been dosed with rat-poison or
something."
George
was very white. "Oh Timmy!" she said. "You're such a sensible
dog. You wouldn't touch poisoned stuff, would you?"
"Woof!"
said Timmy, decidedly. Stinker heard the bark and put his nose out of the
kitchen door.
George
called to him in a loud voice:
"Stinker,
Stinker, come here! Timmy doesn't want his dinner. You can have it. Come along,
Stinker, here it is!"
Edgar
came rushing out behind Stinker. "Don't you give that to him," he
said.
"Why
not?" asked George. "Go on, Edgar—tell me why not."
"He
don't eat raw meat," said Edgar, after a pause. "He only eats dog
biscuits."
"That's
a lie!" said George, flaming up. "I saw him eating meat yesterday.
Here, Stinker — you come and eat this."
Edgar
snatched the bowl from George, almost snarling at her, and ran indoors at top
speed. George was about to go after him, but Julian, who had jumped out of the
window when Edgar came up, stopped her.
"No
good, old thing!" he said. "You won't get anything out of him. The
meat's probably at the back of the kitchen fire by now. From now on, we feed
Timothy ourselves with meat bought from the butcher with our own money. Don't
be afraid that he'll eat poisoned stuff. He's too wise a dog for that."
"He
might, if he was terribly, awfully hungry, Julian," said George, looking
rather green now.  "I wasn't going to let Stinker eat
that poisoned stuff, of course, but I guessed that if.it was poisoned, one of
the
Sticks
would come rushing out and stop Stinker eating it. And Edgar did. So it proves
it was poisoned, doesn't it?"
"I
rather think it does," said Julian. "But don't worry, George. Timmy
won't be poisoned."
"But
he might, he might," said George, putting her hand on the big dog's head.
"Oh, I can't bear the thought of it, Julian. I can't, I really
can't."
"Don't
think about it then," said Julian, taking her indoors again. "Here,
have a biscuit!"
"You
don't think the Sticks would poison us, do you?" said Anne, looking
suddenly scared and gazing at her biscuit as if it might bite her.
 They only want to get Timmy out of the way because he guards us so
well," said Julian. "Don't look so scared. All this will settle down
in a day or two, and we'll have a grand time after all. You'll see!"
 Secretly he was very
worried. He wished he could take Anne, Dick and George back to his own home.
But he knew George wouldn't come. And how could they leave her to the Sticks?
It was quite impossible. Friends must stick together, and somehow they must
face things until Aunt Fanny and Uncle Quentin came back.
Chapter
Seven.
BETTER
NEWS.
"Do
you think we'd better slip down after the Sticks have gone to bed and get some
food out of the larder again?" said Dick, when no supper appeared that
evening.
Julian
didn't feel inclined to sneak down and confront Mr. Stick again. Not that he
was afraid of him, but the whole thing was so unpleasant. This was their house,
the food was theirs—so why should they have to beg for it, or take it on the
sly? It was ridiculous.
"Come
here, Timothy!" said Julian. The dog left George's side and went to
Julian, looking up at the boy inquiringly. "You're going to come with me
and persuade dear kind Mrs. Stick to give us the best things out of the
larder!" said Julian, with a grin.
The
others laughed, cheering up at once.
"Good
idea!" said Dick. "Can we all come and see the fun."
"Better
not," said Julian. "I can manage fine by myself."
He
went down the passage to the kitchen. The radio was going inside, so no one in
the kitchen heard Julian till he was actually standing inside the door. Then
Edgar looked up and saw Timothy as well as Julian.
Edgar
was scared of the big dog, who was now growling fiercely. He went behind the
kitchen sofa and stayed there, eyeing Timmy fearfully.
"What
do you want?" said Mrs. Stick, turning off the radio.
"Supper,"
said Julian, pleasantly. "Supper! The best things out of the larder—bought
with my uncle's money, cooked on my aunt's stove with gas she pays for—yes,
supper! Open the larder door and let's see what there is in there."
"Well,
of all the nerve!" began Mr. Stick, in amazement.
"You
can have a loaf of bread and some cheese," said Mrs. Stick, "and
that's my last word."
"Well,
it isn't my last word," said Julian, and he went to the larder door.
Timmy, keep to heel!
Timmy's
growls were really frightful. Even Mr. Stick put himself at the other end of
the room. As for Stinker, he was nowhere to be seen. He had gone into the
scullery at the very first growl, and was how shivering behind the wringer.
Mrs.
Stick's mouth went into a hard straight line. "You take the bread and
cheese and clear out," she said.
Julian
opened the larder door, whistling softly, which annoyed Mrs. Stick more than
anything else. "My word!" said Julian, admiringly. "You do know
how to stock a larder, I must say, Mrs. Stick. A roast chicken! I thought I
smelt one cooking. I suppose Mr. Stick killed one of our chickens today. I
thought I heard a lot of squawking. And what fine tomatoes! Best to be got from
the village, I've no doubt. And oh, Mrs. Stick—what a perfectly marvellous
treacle tart! I must say you're a good cook, I really must."
Julian
picked up the chicken, the dish of tomatoes, and
then
balanced the plate with the treacle tart on the top.
Mrs.
Stick yelled at him. "
"You
leave them things alone! That's our supper! You leave them there."
"You've
made a little mistake," said Julian, politely. It's our supper! We've had
very little to eat today, and we could do with a good supper. Thanks
awfully!"
"Now
look "ere!" began Mr. Stick, angrily, furious at seeing his lovely
supper walking away.
"You
surely don't want me to look at you again," said Julian, in a tone of
amazement. "What for? Have you shaved yet—or washed? I'm afraid not. So,
if you don't mind I think I'd rather not look at you."
Mr.
Stick was speechless. He was not ready with his tongue at any time, and a boy
like Julian took his breath away, and left him with nothing to say except his
favourite "Now, look 'ere!"
"Put
them things down," said Mrs. Stick sharply. "What do you think we're
going to have for our supper if you walk off with them; you tell me that!"
"Easy!"
said Julian. "Let me offer you our supper—bread and cheese, Mrs. Stick,
bread and cheese!"
Mrs.
Stick made an angry noise, and started to go after Julian with her hand raised.
But Timothy immediately leapt at her, and his teeth snapped together with a
loud click.
"Oh!"
howled Mrs. Stick.  The brute!
I'll do for him one day, you see if I don't."
"You
had a good try today, didn't you?" said Julian, in a quiet voice, fixing
his eyes straight on the woman's face. "That's a matter for the police,
isn't it? Be careful, Mrs. Stick. I've a good mind to go to the police
tomorrow."
Just
as before, the mention of the police seemed to frighten Mrs. Stick. She cast a
look at her husband and took a step backward. Julian wondered if the man had
done something wrong and was hiding from the police. He never seemed to put a
foot out of doors.
The
boy went up the passage triumphantly. Timmy followed at his heels, disappointed
that he hadn't been able to get a nibble at Stinker. Julian marched into the
sitting-room, and set the dishes carefully down on the table.
"What
ho!" he said. "Look what I've got—the Sticks"
own
supper!" Then he told the others all that had happened, and they laughed
loudly.
"How
do you think of all those things to say?" said Anne, admiringly. "I
don't wonder you make them feel wild, Ju. It's a good thing we've got Timmy to
back us up."
"Yes,
I shouldn't feel nearly so bold without Timmy," said Julian.
It
was a very good supper. There were knives and forks in the sideboard, and the
children made do with fruit plates from the sideboard too, rather than go and
get plates from the kitchen. There was bread over from their tea, so they were
able to make a very good meal. They enjoyed it thoroughly.
 You can have all the scraps. See you
don't leave any for Stinker!"
Timmy
didn't. With two or three great gulps he cleared his plate, and then sat
waiting for any scraps of treacle tart that might descend his way.
The
children felt cheerful after such a good meal. They had completely eaten the
chicken. Nothing was left except a pile of bones. They had eaten all the
tomatoes too, finished the bread, and enjoyed every scrap of the treacle tart.
It
was late, Anne yawned, and then George yawned too. "Let's go to bed,"
she said. "I don't feel like having a game of cards or anything."
So
they went to bed, and as usual Timothy lay heavily on George's feet. He lay
there awake for some time, his
ears
cocked to hear noises from below. He heard the Sticks go up to bed. He heard
doors closing. He heard a whine from Stinker. Then all was silence. Timmy dropped
his head on to his paws and slept—but he kept one ear cocked for danger.
Timothy didn't trust the Sticks any more than the children did!
The
children awoke very early in the morning. Julian awoke first. It was a
marvellous day. Julian went to the window and looked out. The sky was a very
pale blue, and rosy-pink clouds floated about it. The sea was a clean blue too,
smooth and calm. Julian remembered what Anne often said—she said that the world
in the early morning always looked as if it had come back fresh from the
laundry — so clean and new and fresh!
The
children all bathed before breakfast, and this time they were back at half-past
eight, afraid that George's father might telephone early again. Julian saw Mrs.
Stick on the stairs and called to her.
"Has
my uncle telephoned yet?"
"No,"
said the woman, in a surly tone. She had been hoping that the telephone would
ring while the children were out, then, as she had done the day before, she
could answer it, and get a few words in first.
"We'll
have breakfast now, please," said Julian. "A. good breakfast, Mrs.
Stick. My uncle might ask us what we'd had for breakfast, mightn't he? You
never know."
Mrs.
Stick evidently thought that Julian might tell his uncle if she gave them only
bread and butter for breakfast, so very soon the children smelt a delicious
smell of bacon frying. Mrs. Stick brought in a dish of it garnished with
tomatoes. She banged it down on the table with the
plates.
Edgar arrived with a pot of tea and a tray of cups and saucers.
"Ah,
here is dear Edgar!" said Julian, in a tone of amiable surprise.
"Dear old spotty-face!"
"Garn!"
said Edgar, and banged down the teapot. Timmy growled, and Edgar fled for his
life.
George
didn't want any breakfast. Julian put hers back in the warm dish and put a
plate over it. He knew that she was waiting for news. If only the telephone
would ring—then she would know if her mother was really better or not.
It
did ring as they were halfway through the meal. George was there before the
bell had stopped pealing. She put the receiver to her ear. "Father! Yes,
it's George. How's Mother?"
There
was a pause as George listened. All the children stopped eating and listened in
silence, waiting for George to speak. They would know by her next words if the
news was good or not.
"Oh—oh,
I'm so glad!" they heard George say. "Did she have the operation
yesterday? Oh, you never told me! But it's all right now, is it? Poor Mother!
Give her my love. I do want to see her. Oh Father, can't I come?"
Evidently
the answer was no. George listened for a while, then spoke a few more words and
said good-bye.
She
ran into the sitting-room. "You heard, didn't you?" she said,
joyfully. "Mother's better. She'll get all right now, and will be back
home soon—in about ten days. Father won't come back till he brings her home.
It's good news about Mother—but I'm afraid we can't get rid of the
Sticks."
Chapter
Eight.
GEORGE'S
PLAN.
MRS.
STICK had overheard the conversation on the telephone—at least, she had heard
George's side of it. She knew that George's mother was better and that her
father would not return till her mother could be brought home. That would be in
about ten days! The Sticks could have a fine time till then, no doubt about
that!
George
suddenly found that her appetite had come back.  She had three cups of tea, and
then sat back contentedly.
"I
feel better," she said. Anne slipped her hand in hers. She was very glad
that her aunt was going to be all right. If it wasn't for those awful Sticks
they could have a lovely time. Then George said something that made Julian
cross.
"Well,
now that I know Mother is going to be better, I can stand up to the Sticks all
right by myself with Timmy. So I want you three to go back home and finish the
hols without me. I shall be all right."
"Shut
up, George," said Julian. "We've argued this all out before. I've
made up my mind—and I don't change it, any more than you. do, when I've made it
up. You make me cross."
"Well,"
said George, "I told you I'd got a plan—and you don't come into it, I'm
afraid—and you'll find
you'll
have to go back home whether you mean to or not."
"Don't
be so mysterious, George!" said Julian, impatiently. "What is this
strange plan? You'd better tell us, even if we're not in it. Can't you trust
us?"
"Yes,
of course. But you might try to stop me," said George, looking sulky.
"Then
you'd certainly better tell us," said Julian feeling uneasy. George was
such a madcap once she got ideas into her head. Goodness knows what she might
do!
But
George wouldn't say another word. Julian gave it up at last, but secretly made
up his mind not to let George out of his sight that day. If she was going to
carry out some wild plan, then she would have to do it under his, Julian's,
eye!
But
George didn't seem to be carrying out any wild plan. She bathed again with the
others, went for a walk with them, and went for a row on the sea. She didn't
want to go to Kirrin Island, so the others didn't press her, thinking that she
didn't want to be out of sight of the beach in case Edgar came with a message
from her father.
It
was quite a pleasant day. The children bought sausage rolls again, and fruit,
and picnicked on the beach. Timmy had a large and juicy bone from the
butcher's.
"I've
got a bit of shopping to do," said George, about tea-time. "You
others go and see if Mrs. Stick is getting some tea for us, and I'll fly down
to the shops and get what I want."
Julian
pricked up his ears at once. Was George sending them off so that she could be
alone to carry out this mysterious plan of hers?
"I'll
come with you," said Julian, getting up. "Dick can tackle Mrs. Stick
for once, and take Timmy with him."
"No,
you go," said George. "I won't be long."
But
Julian was determined not to go. In the end they all went with George, for Dick
did not want to face Mrs. Stick without Julian or George.
George
went into the little general shop and got a new battery for her torch. She
bought two boxes of matches, and a bottle of methylated spirit.
"Whatever
do you want that for?" said Anne in surprise.
"Oh,
it might come in useful," said George, and said no more.
They
all went back to Kirrin Cottage. Tea was actually on the table! True, it was
not a thrilling tea, being merely bread and jam and a pot of hot tea—still it
was there, and was eatable.
It
rained that evening. The children sat round the table and played cards. Their
hearts were lighter now that they had had good news of George's mother. In the
middle of the game Julian got up and rang the bell. The others stared at him in
the greatest surprise.
"What
are you ringing the bell for?" asked George, her eyes wide with
astonishment.
"To
tell Mrs. Stick to bring some supper," said Julian, with a grin. But no
one answered the bell. So Julian rang again and then again.
The
kitchen door opened at last and Mrs. Stick came
up
the passage, evidently in a bad temper. She came into the sitting-room.
.
"You stop ringing that bell!" she said, angrily. "I'm not
answering any bells rung by you."
"I
rang it to tell you that we wanted some supper," said Julian, "And to
say that if you would rather I came and got it myself from the larder—with
Timmy—as I did last night, I'll come with pleasure. But if not, you can bring a
decent supper to us yourself."
"If
you come stealing things out of my larder again, I'll—I'll . . ." began
Mrs. Stick.
"You'll
call in the police!" Julian finished for her. "Do. That would please
us very much. I can see our local policeman taking down all the details in his
notebook. I could give him quite a few."
Mrs.
Stick muttered something rude under her breath, glared at Julian as if she
could kill him, and went off down the passage again. By the sound of the
clattering . and crashing of crockery in the kitchen it was plain that Mrs.
Stick was getting some sort of supper for them, and Julian grinned to himself
as he dealt out the cards.
Supper
was not as good as the night before, but it was not bad. It was a little cold
ham, cheese and the remains of a milk pudding. There was also a plate of cooked
meat for Timmy.
George
looked at it sharply. "Take that away," she said. "I bet you've
poisoned it again. Take it away!"
"No.
On the contrary, leave it here," said Julian. "I'll take it down to
the local chemist tomorrow and get him. to test it. If, as George thinks, it's
poisoned, the chemist might have a lot of interesting things to tell us."
Mrs.
Stick took the meat away without a word. "Horrible woman!" said
George, pulling Timothy close to her.  I feel so afraid
for Timmy."
Somehow
that spoilt the evening. As it grew dark the children became sleepy. "It's
ten o'clock," said Julian. "Bed, I think, everyone! Anne ought to
have gone long ago. She isn't nearly old enough to stay up as late as
this."
"Well!"
began Anne, indignantly. "I'm nearly as old as George, aren't I? I can't
help being younger, can I?"
"All
right, all right!" said Julian laughing. "I shan't make you go off to
bed by yourself, don't worry. We all keep together in this house while the
Sticks are about. Come on! We'll go now, shall we?"
The
children were tired. They had swum, walked and rowed that day. Julian tried to
keep awake a little while, but he too fell asleep very quickly.
He
awoke with a jump, thinking that he had heard a. noise. But everything was
quiet. What could the noise have been? Was it one of the Sticks creeping about?
No—it couldn't be that, or Tim would have barked the house down. Then what was
it? Something must have waked him.
"I
suppose it's not old George doing anything about that plan of hers!"
thought Julian, suddenly. He sat up, He felt about for his dressing-gown and
put it on. Without waking Dick he crept to the girls" room, and switched
on his torch to see that they were all right.
Anne
was in her bed, sleeping peacefully. But George's bed was empty. George's
clothes were gone!
"Blow!"
said Julian, under his breath. "Where has she gone? I bet she's run away
to find where her mother is!"
His
torch picked out a white "envelope pinned to George's pillow. He stepped
softly over to it.
It
had his name printed on it in bold letters. "JULIAN." . Julian ripped
it open and read it.
"Dear
JULIAN," said the note,
"Don't
be angry with me, please. I daren't stay in Kirrin Cottage any longer in case
the Sticks somehow poison Timmy. You know that would break my heart. So I've
gone to live by myself on our island till Mother and Father come back. Please
leave a note for Father and tell him to ask Jim to sail near Kirrin Island with
his little red flag flying from the mast as soon as they are back. Then I'll
come home. You and Dick and Anne must go back to your own parents now I've
gone. It would be silly to stay at Kirrin Cottage with the Sticks now I'm not
there.
Love
from
GEORGE."
Julian
read the note through. "Well, why didn't I guess that was her plan!"
he said to himself. "That's why we didn't come into it! She meant to go
off by herself with Timmy. I can't let her do that. She can't live all by
herself on Kirrin Island for so long. She might fall ill. She might slip on a
rock and hurt herself, and no one would ever know!"
.
The boy was really worried about the determined little girl. He wondered what
to do. That noise he heard must have been made by George. So she couldn't have
got a very long start really. If he tore down to the beach,
George
might still be there, and he could stop her.
So,
in his dressing gown, he ran down the front path, out of the gate, and took the
road to the beach. The rain had stopped, and the stars were out. But it was not
at all a light night.
"How
can George expect to get through those rocks in the dark," he thought.
"She's mad! She'll strike her boat on a rock, and sink."
He
tore on in the darkness, talking aloud to himself. "No wonder she wanted a
new battery for her torch, and matches—and I suppose the methylated spirit was
for her little cooking stove! Why ever couldn't she tell us? It would have been
fun to go with her."
He
came to the beach. He saw the light of a torch where George kept her boat. He
ran to it, his feet sinking in the soft wet sand.
"George!
Idiot! You're not to go off like this all alone, in the dead of night!"
called Julian.
George
was pushing her boat out into the water. She jumped when she heard Julian's
voice. "You can't stop me!" she said. "I'm just off!"
But
Julian caught hold of the boat, as he waded up to his waist in the water.
"George, listen to mej You can't go like this. You'll strike a rock. Come
back!"
"No,"
said George, getting cross. "You can go back to your own home, Julian. I
shall be all right. Let go my boat!"
"George,
why didn't you tell me your plan?" said Julian, almost swept off his feet
by a wave. "Dash these waves! I shall have to get into the boat."
He
climbed in. He could not see George, but he felt
quite
certain she was glaring at him. Timmy licked his wet legs.
"You're
spoiling everything," said George, with a break in her voice that meant
she was upset.
"I'm
not, silly!" said Julian, in a gentle voice. "Listen!—you come back
to Kirrin Cottage with me now, George. And I'll faithfully promise you
something. Tomorrow we'll all go to the island with you. See? The whole lot of
us. Why shouldn't we? Your mother said we could spend a week there, anyway,
didn't she? We shall be out of the reach of those horrible Sticks. We shall enjoy
ourselves, and have a marvellous time. So will you come back now, George, and
let us go together tomorrow?"
Chapter
Nine.
AN
EXCITING NIGHT.
THERE
was a silence, except for the waves splashing round the boat. Then George's
voice came out of the darkness, lifted joyfully.
"Oh
Julian—do you really mean it? Will you really come with me? I was afraid I'd
get into trouble for doing this, because Father said I must stay at Kirrin
Cottage till he came back—and you know how he hates disobedience. But I knew if
I stayed there, you would too—and I didn't want you to be miserable with those
horrid Sticks—so I thought I'd come away. I didn't think you'd come too,
because of getting into trouble! I never even thought of asking you."
 said Julian. "As
if we'd care about getting into trouble, so long as we were all together,
sticking by one another! Of course we'll come with you—and I'll take all the
responsibility for this escape, and tell your father it's my fault."
"Oh
no you won't," said George, quickly. "I shall say it was my idea. If
I do wrong, I'm not afraid to own up to it. You know that."
"Well,
we won't argue that now," said Julian. "We shall have at least a week
or ten days on Kirrin Island to do all the arguing we want to. The thing
is—let's get back now, wake up the others for a bit, and have a nice quiet
talk
in the dead of night about this plan of yours. I must say it's a very, very
good idea!"
George
was overjoyed. "I feel as if I could hug you, Julian," she said.
"Where are the oars? Oh, here they are! The boat's floated quite a long
way out."
She
rowed strongly back to the shore. Julian jumped out and pulled the boat up the
beach, with George's help. He shone his torch into the boat and gave an
exclamation.
"You've
quite a nice little store of things here," he said. "Bread and ham
and butter and stuff. How did you manage to get them without old Mr. Stick
seeing you tonight? I suppose you slipped down and got them out of the
larder?" "
"Yes,
I did," said George. "But there was no one in the kitchen tonight.
Perhaps Mr. Stick has gone to sleep upstairs. Or maybe he has gone back to his
ship. Anyway, there was no one there when I crept down, not even Stinker."
"We'd
better leave them here," said Julian.  No one will guess there's anything there. We'll have to
bring down a lot more stuff if we're all going to live on the island. Golly,
this is going to be fun!"
The
children made their way back to the house, feeling thrilled and excited.
Julian's wet dressing-gown flapped round his legs, and he pulled it up high to
be out of the way. Timothy gambolled round, not seeming at all surprised at the
night's doings.
When
they got back to the house they woke the other two, who listened in
astonishment to what had happened
that
night. Anne was so excited to think that they were all going to live on the
island that she raised her voice in joy.
"Oh!
That's the loveliest thing that could happen! Oh, I do think . . ."
"Shut
up!" said three furious voices in loud whispers. "You'll wake the
Sticks!"
"Sorry!"
whispered Anne. "But oh—it's so terribly, awfully exciting."
They
began to discuss their plans. "If we go for a week or ten days, we must
take plenty of stores," said Julian.
"The
thing is—can we possibly find food enough for so long? Even if we entirely
empty the larder I doubt if that would be enough for a week or so. We all seem
such hungry people, somehow."
"Julian,"
said George, suddenly remembering something, "I know what we'll do! Mother
has a store-cupboard in her room. She keeps dozens and dozens of tins of food
there, in case we ever get snowed up in the winter, and can't go to the
village. That has happened once or twice you know. And I know where Mother
keeps the key! Can't we open the cupboard and get out some tins?"
"Of
course!" said Julian, delighted. "I know Aunt Fanny wouldn't mind.
And anyway, we can make a list of what we take and replace them for her, if she
does mind. It will be my birthday soon, and I am sure to get money then."
"Where's
the key?" whispered Dick.
"Let's-go
into Mother's room, and I'll show you where
she
keeps it," said George. "I only hope she hasn't" taken it with
her."
But
George's mother had felt far too ill when she left home to think of cupboard
keys. George fumbled at the back of a drawer in the dressing-table and brought
out two or three keys tied together with thin string. She fitted first one and
then another into a cupboard set in the wall. The second one opened the door.
Julian
shone his torch into the cupboard. It was filled with tins of food of all
kinds, neatly arranged on the shelves.
"Golly!"
said Dick, his eyes gleaming. "Soup—tins of meat—tins of fruit—tinned
milk—sardines—tinned butter—biscuits—tinned vegetables! There's everything we
want here!"
"Yes,"
said Julian, pleased. "It's fine. We'll take all we can carry. Is there a
sack or two anywhere about, George, do you know?"
Soon
the tins were quietly packed into two sacks. The cupboard door was shut and
locked again. The children stole to their own rooms once more.
"Well,
that's the biggest problem solved—food," said Julian. "We'll raid the
larder too, and take what bread there is—and cake. What about water, George? Is
there any on the island?"
"Well,
I suppose there is some in that old well," said George, thinking,
"but as there's no bucket or anything, we can't get any. I was taking a
big container of fresh water with me—but we'd better fill two or three more now
you are all coming! I know where there are some, quite clean and new."
So
they filled some containers with fresh water, and put them with the sacks,
ready to take to the boat. It was so exciting doing all these things in the
middle of the night! Anne could hardly keep her voice down to a whisper, and it
was a wonder that Timothy didn't bark, for he sensed the excitement of the
others.
There
was a tin of cakes in the larder, freshly made, so those were added to the heap
that was forming in the front garden. There was a large joint of meat too, and
George wrapped it in a cloth and put that with the heap,
telling
Timmy in a fierce voice that if he so much as sniffed at it she would leave him
behind!
"I've
got my little stove for boiling water on, or heating up anything," whispered
George. "It's in the boat. That's what I bought the methylated spirit for,
of course. You didn't guess, did you? And the matches for lighting it. I
say—what about candles? We can't use our torches all the time, the batteries
would soon run out."
They
found a pound of candles in the kitchen cupboard, a kettle, a saucepan, some
old knives and forks and spoons, and a good many other things they thought they
might possibly want. They also came across some small bottles of ginger-beer,
evidently stored for their own use by the Sticks.
"All
bought out of my mother's money!" said George. "Well, we'll take the
ginger-beer too. It will be nice to drink it on a hot day."
"Where
are we going to sleep at night?" said Julian. "In that ruined part of
the old castle, where there is just one room with a roof left, and walls?"
"That's
where I planned to sleep," said George. "I was going to make my bed
of some of the heather that grows on the island, covered by a rug or two, which
I've got down in the boat."
"We'll
take all the rugs we can find," said Julian. "And some cushions for
pillows. I say, isn't this simply thrilling? I don't know when I've felt so
excited. I feel like a prisoner .escaping to freedom! Won't the Sticks be
amazed when they find us gone!"
"Yes
— we'll have to decide what to say to them," said George, rather soberly.
"We don't .want them sending
people
after us to the island, making us come back. I don't think they should know
we've gone there."
"We'll
discuss that later," said Dick. "The thing is to get everything to
the boat while it's dark. It will soon be dawn."
"How
are we going to get all this down to George's boat?" said Anne, looking at
the enormous pile of goods by the light of her torch. "We'll never be able
to carry them all!"
Certainly
it looked a great pile. Julian had an idea, as usual. "Are there any
barrows in the shed?" he asked George. "If we could pile the things
into a couple of barrows, we could easily take everything in one journey. We
could wheel the barrows along on the sandy side of the road so that we don't
make any noise."
"Oh,
good idea!" said George, delighted. "I wish I'd thought of that
before. I had to make about five journeys to and from the boat when I took my
own things. There are two barrows in the shed. We'll get them. One has a
squeaky wheel, but we'll hope no one hears it."
Stinker
heard the squeak, as he lay in a corner of Mrs. Stick's room. He pricked up his
ears and growled softly. He did not dare to bark, for he was afraid of bringing
Timothy up. Mrs. Stick did not hear the growl. She slept soundly, not even
stirring. She had no idea what was going on downstairs.
The
things were all stowed into the boat. The children didn't like leaving them
there unguarded. In the end they decided to leave Dick there, sleeping on the
rugs. They stood thinking for a moment before they went back without Dick.
"I
do hope we've remembered all we shall want," said George, wrinkling up her
forehead. "Golly—I know! We haven't remembered a tin-opener—nor a thing to
take off the tops of the ginger-beer bottles.
"We'll
put those in our pockets when we get back to the house and find them,"
said Julian. "I remember seeing some in the sideboard drawer. Good-bye,
Dick. We'll be down very early to row off. We must get some bread at the
baker's as soon as he opens, because we've got hardly any, and we'll see if we
can pick up a very large bone at the butcher's for Timmy. George has got a bag
of biscuits in the boat for him too."
The
three of them set off back to the house with Timmy, leaving Dick curled up
comfortably on the rugs. He soon fell asleep again, his face upturned to the
stars that would soon fade from the sky.
The
others talked about what to tell the Sticks. "I think we won't tell them
anything," said Julian, at last. "I don't particularly want to tell
them deliberate lies, and I'm certainly not going to tell them the truth. I
know what we'll do—there is a train that leaves the station about eight o'clock,
which would be the one we'd catch if we were going back to our own home. We'll
find a time-table, leave it open on the dining-room table, as if we'd been
looking up a train, and then we'll all set off across the moor at the back of
the house, as if we were going to the station."
"Oh
yes—then the Sticks will think we've run away, and gone to catch; the train
back home," said Anne. "They will never guess we've gone to the
island."
"That's
a good idea," said George, pleased. "But how shall we know when
Father and Mother get back?"
"Is
there anyone you could leave a message with—somebody you could really
trust?" asked Julian.
George
thought hard. "There's Alf the fisher-boy," she said at last.
"He used to look after Tim for me when I wasn't allowed to have him in the
house. I know he'd not give us away."
"We'll
call on Alf before we go then," said Julian. "Now, let's look for
that time-table and lay it open on the table at the right place."
They
hunted for the time-table, found the right page, and underlined the train they
hoped that the Sticks would think they were catching. They found the tin and
bottle openers,and put them into their pockets. Julian found two or three more
boxes of matches too. He thought two would not last long enough.
By
this time dawn had come and the house was being flooded with early sunshine.
"I wonder if the baker is open," said Julian. "We might as well
go and see. It's about six o'clock."
They
went to the baker. He was not open, but the new loaves had already been made.
The baker was outside, sunning himself. He had baked his bread at night, ready
to sell it new-made in the morning. He grinned at the children.
"Up
early today," he said. "What, you want some of my loaves—how many?
Six! Good gracious, whatever for?"
"To
eat," said George, grinning. Julian paid for six enormous loaves, and they
went to the butcher's. His shop was not open either, but the butcher himself
was
sweeping
the path outside. "Could we buy a very big bone for Timmy, please?"
asked George. She got an enormous one, and Timmy looked at it longingly. Such a
bone would last him for days, he knew!
"Now,"
said Julian, as they set off to the boat, "we'll pack these things into
the boat, then'go back to the house, and make a noise so that the Sticks know we're
there. Then we'll set off across the moors, and hope the Sticks will think we
are making for the train."
They
woke Dick, who was still sleeping peacefully in the boat, and packed in the
bread and bone.
"Take
the boat into the next cove," said George. "Can you do that? We shall
be hidden there from anyone on the beach then. The fishermen are all out in
their boats, fishing. We shan't be seen, if we set offin about an hour's time.
We'll be back by then."
They
went back to the house and made a noise as if they were just getting up. George
whistled to Timmy, and Julian sang at the top of his voice. Then, with a great
banging of doors they set out down the path and cut across the moors, in full
sight of the kitchen window.
"Hope
the Sticks won't notice Dick isn't with us," said Julian, seeing Edgar
staring out of the window. "I expect they'll think he's gone ahead."
They
kept to the path until they came to a dip, where they were hidden from any
watcher at Kirrin Cottage. Then they took another path that led them, unseen,
to the cove where Dick had taken the boat. He was there, waiting anxiously for
them.
"Ahoy
there!" yelled Julian, in excitement. "The adventure is about to
begin."
Chapter
Ten.
KIRRIN
ISLAND ONCE MORE!
THEY
all clambered into the boat. Timothy leapt in lightly and ran to the prow,
where he always stood. His tongue hung out in excitement. He knew quite well
that something was up—and he was in it! No wonder he panted and wagged his tail
hard.
"Off
we go!" said Julian, taking the oars. "Sit over there a bit, Anne.
The luggage is weighing "down the boat awfully the other end. Dick, sit by
Anne to keep the balance better. That's right. Off we go!"
And
off they went in George's boat, rocking up and down on the waves. The sea was
fairly calm, but a good breeze blew through their hair. The water splashed
round the boat and made a nice gurgly, friendly noise. The children all felt
very happy. They were on their own. They were escaping from the horrid Sticks.
They were going to stay on Kirrin Island, with the rabbits and gulls and
jackdaws.
"Doesn't
that new-made bread smell awfully good?" said Dick, feeling very hungry as
usual. "Can we just grab a bit, do you think?"
"Yes,
let's," said George. So they broke off bits of the warm brown crust, handed
some to Julian, who was rowing, and chewed the delicious new-made bread. Timmy
got a bit too, but his was gone as soon as it went into his mouth.
"Timmy's
funny," said Anne. "He never eats his food as we do—he seems to drink
it—just takes it into his mouth and swallows it, as if it was water!"
The
others laughed. "He doesn't drink his bones." said George. "He
always eats those all right—chews on them for hours and hours. Don't you,
Timothy?"
"Woof!"
said Timmy, agreeing. He eyed the place where that enormous bone was, wishing
he could have it now. But the children wouldn't let him. They were afraid it
might go overboard, and that would be a pity.
"I
don't believe anyone has noticed us going," said Julian. "Except Alf
the fisher-boy, of course. We told him about going to the island, Dick, but
nobody else."
They
had called at Alf's house on their way to the cove. Alf was alone in the yard
at the back.: His mother was away and his father was out fishing. They had told
him their secret, and Alf had nodded his tousled head and promised faithfully
to tell nobody at all. He was evidently very proud at being trusted.
"If
my mother and father come back, you must let us know," said George.
"Sail as near the island as you dare, and hail us. You can get nearer to
it than anyone else."
"I'll
do that," promised Alf, wishing he could go with them.
"So,
you see, Dick," said Julian, as he rowed out to the island, "if by
any chance Aunt Fanny does return sooner than we expect, we shall know at once
and come back. I think we've planned everything very well."
"Yes,
we have," said Dick. He turned and faced the island, which was coming
nearer. "We shall soon be there. Isn't George going to take the oars and
guide the boat in?"
"Yes,"
said George. "We've come to the difficult bit now, where we've got to
weave our way in and out of the different rocks that keep sticking up. Give me
the oars,
Ju."
She
took the oars, and the others watched in admiration as the girl guided the big
boat skillfully in and out of the hidden rocks. She certainly was very clever.
They felt perfectly safe with her.
The
boat slid into the little cove. It was a natural harbour, with the water
running up to a stretch of sand. High rocks sheltered it. The children jumped
out eagerly, and four pairs of willing hands tugged the boat quickly up the
sand. .
"Higher
up still," panted George. "You know what awful storms suddenly blow
up in this bay. We want to be sure the boat is quite safe, no matter how high
the seas run."
The
boat soon lay on one side, high up the stretch of sand. The children sat down,
puffing and blowing. "Let's have breakfast here," said Julian.
"I don't feel like unloading all those heavy things at the moment. We'll
get what we want for breakfast, and have it here on this warm bit of
sand."
They
got a loaf of new bread, some cold ham, a few tomatoes and a pot of jam. Anne
found knives and forks and plates. Julian opened two bottles of ginger-beer.
"Funny
sort of breakfast," he said, setting the bottles down on the sand,
"But simply gorgeous when anyone is as hungry as we are."
They
ate everything except about a third of the loaf. Timmy was given his bone and
some of his own biscuits.
He
crunched up the biscuits at once, and then sat down contentedly to gnaw the
fine bone.
"How
nice to be Timmy—with no plate or knife or fork or cup to bother about,"
said Anne, lying on her back in the sun, feeling that she really couldn't eat
anything more. "Oh, if we are always going to have mixed-up meals like
this on the island, I shall never want to go back. Who would have thought that
ham and jam and ginger-beer would go so well together?"
Timmy
was thirsty. He sat with his tongue hanging out wishing that George would give
him a drink. He didn't like ginger-beer.
George
eyed him lazily.
"Oh
Timmy—are you thirsty?" she said.  You'll have to wait a few minutes, then I'll go to the boat and
empty out some water for you."
But
Timothy couldn't wait. He went off to some nearby rocks, which were out of
reach of the sea. In a hole in one of them he found some rain-water, and he
lapped it up eagerly. The children heard him lapping it, and laughed.
"Isn't
Timmy clever?" murmured Anne. "I should never have thought of
that."
The
children had been up half the night, and now they were full of good things, and
were very sleepy. One by one they fell asleep on the warm sand. Timothy eyed
them in astonishment. It wasn't night-time! Yet here were all the children
sleeping tightly. Well, well—a dog could always go to sleep too at any time! So
Timothy threw himself down beside George, put his head right on her middle, and
closed his eyes.
The
sun was high when the little company "awoke. Julian awoke first, then
Dick, feeling very hot indeed, for the sun was blazing down. They sat up,
yawning.
"Goodness!"
said Dick, looking at his arms. "The sun has caught me properly. I shall
be terribly sore by tonight. Did we bring any cream, Julian?"
"No.
We never thought of it," said Julian. "Cheer up! You'll be burnt much
more by the time this day ends. The sun's going to be hot—there's not a cloud
in the sky!"
They
woke up the girls. George pushed Timmy's head off her tummy. "You give me
nightmares when you put your heavy head there," she complained. "Oh,
I say—we're on the island, aren't we? For a moment I thought I was back in bed
at Kirrin Cottage!"
"Isn't
it gorgeous—here we are for ages, all by ourselves, with tons of nice things to
eat, able to do just what we like!" said Anne, contentedly.
"I
guess the old Sticks are glad we've gone," said Dick. "Spotty Face
will be able to loll in the sitting-room and read all our booksI if he wants
to."
"And
Stinker-dog will be able to wander all over the house and lie on anybody's bed
without being afraid that Timothy will eat him whole," said George.
"Well, let him. I don't care about anything now that I've escaped."
It
was fun to lie there and talk about everything. But soon Julian, who could
never rest for long, once he was awake, got up and stretched himself.
"Come
on!" he said to the others. "There is work to do, Lazy-Bones! Come
along!"
"Work
to do? What do you mean?" said George in astonishment.
"Well,
we've got to unload the boat and pack everything somewhere where it won't get
spoilt if the rain happens to come," said Julian. "And we've got to
decide exactly where we're going to sleep, and get the heather for our beds and
pile the rugs on them. There's plenty to do!"
"Oh,
don't let's do it yet," said Anne, not at all wanting to get up out of the
warm sand. But the others pulled her up, and together they all set to work to
unload the boat.
"Let's
go and have a look at the castle," said Julian. "And find the little
room where we'll sleep. It's the only one left whole, so it will have to be
that one."
They
went right to the top of the inlet, climbed up on to the rocks and made their
way towards the old ruined castle, whose walls rose up from the middle of the
little island. They stopped to gaze at it.
"It's
a fine old ruin," said Dick. "Aren't we lucky to have an island and a
castle of our own! Fancy, this is all ours!"
They
gazed through a big broken-down archway, to old steps beyond. The castle had
once had two fine towers, but now one was almost gone. The other rose high in
the air, half-ruined. The black jackdaws collected there, talking loudly.
"Chack, chack, chack! Chack, chack, chack!"
"Nice
birds," said Dick. "I like them. See the grey patch at the back of
their heads, Anne? I wonder if they ever stop talking."
"I
don't think so," said George. "Oh, look at the rabbits—tamer than
ever!"
 It really seemed as if it would be possible to pat them, they
were so tame—but one by one they edged away as the children approached.
Timothy
was in a great state of excitement, and his tail quivered from end to end. Oh
those rabbits! Why
couldn't
he chase them? Why was George so difficult about rabbits? Why couldn't he make
them run a bit?
But
George had her hand on his collar, and gave him: stern glance. "Now,
Timothy, don't you dare to chase even the smallest of these rabbits. They're
mine, every one o them."
"Ours!"
corrected Anne at once. She wanted to share in the rabbits, as well as in the
castle and the island.
"Ours!"
said George. "Let's go and have a look at the little dark room where we'll
spend the nights."
They
made their way to where the castle did not seen to be quite so ruined. They
came to a doorway and looked inside.
"Here
it is!" said Julian, peeping in. "I shall have to us my torch. The
windows are only slits here, and it's quit dark."
He
turned on his torch—and the children all gaze< into the old room where they
proposed to store their goods and sleep.
George
gave a loud exclamation. "Golly! We can't use this room! The roof has
fallen in since last summer."
So
it had. Julian's torch shone on to a heap of fallen stones, scattered all over
the floor. It was quite impossible to use the old room now. In any case it
might be dangerous to do so, for it looked as if more stones might fall at any
moment.
"Blow!"
said Julian. "What shall we do about this? W shall have to find somewhere
else for a storing an sleeping-place!"
Chapter
Eleven.
ON
THE OLD WRECK.
IT
was quite a shock to have their plans spoilt. They knew there was no other room
in the ruined castle that was sufficiently whole to shelter them. And they must
find some sort of shelter, for although the weather was fine at the moment, it
might rain hard any day—or a storm might blow up.
"And
storms round about Kirrin are so very violent," said Julian, remembering
one or two. "Do you remember the storm that tossed your wreck up from the
bottom of the sea, George?"
"Oh
yes," said George and Anne, together, and Anne added eagerly: "Let's
go and see the wreck today if we can. I'd love to see if it's still balanced on
those rocks, as it was last year, when we explored it."
"Well,
first we must make up our minds where we are going to sleep," said Julian,
firmly. "I don't know if you realise it, but it's about three o'clock in
the afternoon! We slept for hours on the sand—tired out with our exciting
night, I suppose. We really must find some safe place and put our things there
at once, and make our beds."
"Well,
but where shall we go?" said Dick. "There's no other place in the old
castle."
"There's
the dungeon below," said Anne, shivering. "But I don't want to go
there. It's so dark and mysterious."
Nobody
wanted to sleep down in the dungeons! Dick
frowned
and thought hard. "What about the wreck?" he said. "Any chance
of living there?"
"We
might go and see," said Julian. "I don't somehow fancy living on a
damp old rotting wreck—but if it's still high on the rocks, maybe the sun will
have dried it, and it might be possible to have our bed and stores there."
"Let's
go and see now," said George. So they made their way from the ruined
castle to the old wall that ran round it. From there they would be able to see
the wreck. It had been cast up the year before, and had settled firmly on some
rocks.
They
stood on the wall and looked for the wreck, but it was not where they had
expected it. "It's moved," said
Julian, in surprise. "There it is, look, on those rocks—nearer to
the shore than it was before. Poor old wreck! It's been battered about a good
bit this last winter, hasn't it? It looks much more of a real wreck than it did
last summer."
"I
don't believe we shall be able to sleep there," said Dick. "It's
dreadfully battered. We might be able to store food there, though. Do you know,
I believe we could get to it from those rocks that run out from the
island."
"Yes,
I believe we could," said George. "We could only reach it safely by
boat last summer—but when the tide is down, I think we could climb out over the
line of rocks, right to the wreck itself."
"We'll
try in about an hour," said Julian, feeling excited. "The tide will
be off the rocks by then."
"Let's
go and have a look at the old well," said Dick, and they made their way
back to the courtyard of the castle. Here, the summer before, they had found
the
entrance
to the well-shaft that ran deep down through the rock, past the dungeons below,
lower than the level of the sea, to fresh water.
The
children looked about for the well, and came to the old wooden cover. They drew
it back.
"There
are the rungs of the old iron ladder I went down last year," said Dick,
peering in. "Now let's find the entrance to the dungeon. The steps down
into it are somewhere near here."
They
found the entrance, but to their surprise some enormous stones had been pulled
across it. "Who did that?" said George, frowning. "We didn't!
Someone has been here!"
"Trippers,
I suppose," said Julian. "Do you remember that we thought we saw a
spire of smoke here the other day? I bet it was trippers. You know, the story
of Kirrin Island, and its old castle and dungeons, and the treasure we found in
it last year, was all in the newspapers. I expect one of the fishermen has been
making money by taking trippers and landing them on our island."
"How
dare they?" said George, looking very fierce. "I shall put up a board
that says "Trespassers will be sent to prison." I won't have
strangers on our island."
"Well,
don't worry about the stones" pulled across the dungeon entrance,"
said Julian. "I don't think any of us want to go down there. Look at poor
old Timmy! He's gazing at those rabbits most unhappily. Isn't he funny?"
Timothy
was sitting down behind the children, looking most mournfully at the ring of
rabbits all round the weed grown courtyard. He looked at the rabbits and then
he
looked
at George, then he looked back at—the rabbits.
"No
good, Timmy," said George, firmly. "I'm not going to change my mind
about rabbits. You're not to chase them on our island."
"I
expect he thinks you're most unfair to him," said Anne. "After all,
you said he might share your quarter of the island with you—and so he thinks he
ought to have his share of your rabbits too!"
Everyone
laughed. Timmy wagged his tail and looked hopefully at George. They all walked
across the courtyard—and then Julian suddenly came to a stop.
"Look!"
he said in surprise, pointing to something on the ground. "Look! Someone
has been here! This is where they built a fire!"
Everyone
gazed at the ground. There was a heap of wood-ash there, quite evidently left
from a fire. Stamped into the ground was a cigarette end, too. There was
absolutely no doubt about it—someone had been on the island!
"If
trippers come here I'll set Timmy on to them!" cried George, in a fury.
"This is our own place, it doesn't belong to anybody else at all. Timothy,
you mustn't chase rabbits here, but you can chase anybody on two legs, except
us! See?"
Timmy
wagged his tail at once. "Woof!" he said, quite agreeing. He looked
all round as if he hoped to see somebody appearing that he could chase. But
there was no one.
"I
should think the tide is about off those rocks by now," said Julian.
"Let's go and see. If it is we'll climb along them and see if we can get
to the wreck. Anne had better
not
come. She might slip and fall, and the sea is raging all round the rocks."
"Of
course I'm coming!" cried Anne, indignantly "You're just as likely to
fall as I am."
"Well,
I'll see if it looks too dangerous," said Julian They made their way over
the castle wall, down to the line of rocks that ran out seawards, towards the
wreck Big waves did wash over the rocks occasionally, but it seemed fairly
safe.
"If
you keep between me and Dick, you can come Anne," said Julian. "But
you must let us help you over difficult parts, and not make a fuss.
They
began to make their way along the line of rugged slippery rocks. The tide went
down even farther as the; got nearer to the wreck, and soon there was very
little danger of being washed off the rocks. It was possible now to get right
to the wreck across the rocks—a thing they had not been able to do the summer
before.
"Here
we are!" said Julian at last, and he put his ham on the side of the old
wreck. She was a big ship now that they were near to her. She towered above
them, thick with shell-fish and seaweed, smelling musty and old. The water
washed round the bottom part of her, but the top part was right out of the
water, even when the tide was at its highest.
"She's
been thrown about a bit last winter," said George, looking at her.
"There are a lot more new hole in her side, aren't there? And part of her
old mast is gone and some of the deck. How can we get up to her."
"I've
got a rope," said Julian, and he undid a rope that
he
had wound round his waist. "Half a minute—I'll make a loop and see if I
can throw it round that post sticking out up there."
He
threw the rope two or three times, but could not get the loop round the post.
George took it from him impatiently. At the first throw she got it round the
post. She was very good indeed at things like that—better than a boy in some
things, Anne thought admiringly.
She
was up the rope like a monkey, and soon stood on the sloping slippery deck. She
almost slipped, but caught at a broken piece of deck just in time. Julian
helped Anne to go up, and then the two boys followed.
"It's
a horrid smell, isn't it?" said Anne, wrinkling up her nose.  I don't think I'll go and look down in the cabins like
we did last time. The smell would be worse there."
So
the others left Anne up on the half-rotten deck while they went to explore a
bit. They went down to the smelly, seaweed-hung cabins, and into the captain's
old cabin, the biggest of the lot. But it was quite plain that not only could
they not sleep there, but they could certainly not hope to store anything
there, either. The whole place was damp and rotten. Julian was half afraid his
foot would go through the planking at any moment.
"Let's
go up to the deck," he said. "It's nasty down here—awfully dark
too."
They
were just going up, when they heard a shout from Anne, "I say! Come here,
quick! I've found something!"
They
hurried up as fast as they could, slipping and sliding on the sloping deck.
Anne was standing where they had left her, her eyes shining brightly. She was
pointing
to something on the opposite side of the ship "What is it?" said
George. "What's the matter?" "Look—that wasn't here when we came
here before surely!" said Anne, still pointing. The others looked when she
pointed. They saw an open locker at the other side o the deck, and stuffed into
it was a small black trunk! How extraordinary!
 said Julian, in surprise. "No—that wasn't there
before. It's not been there long either—it's quite dry and new! Whoever does it
belong to? And why should it be here?"
Chapter
Twelve.
THE
CAVE IN THE CLIFF.
CAUTIOUSLY
the children made their way down the slippery deck towards the locker. The door
of this had evidently been shut on the trunk but had come open, so that the
trunk was not hidden, as had been intended.
 All the children were amazed. Why should
anyone put a trunk there?
"Smugglers,
do you think?" said Dick, his eyes gleaming.
"Yes—it
might be," said Julian, thoughtfully, trying to undo the straps of the
trunk. "This would be a very good place for smugglers. Ships that knew the
way could put in, cast off a boat with smuggled goods, leave them here, and go
on their way, knowing that people could come and collect the goods at their
leisure."
"Do
you think there are smuggled goods inside the trunk?" asked Anne, in
excitement. "What would there be? Diamonds? Silks?"
"Anything
that has a duty to be paid on it before it can get into the country," said
Julian. "Blow these straps! I can't undo them."
"Let
me try," said Anne, who had very deft little fingers. She began to work at
the buckles, and in a short time had the straps undone. But a further
disappointment awaited them. The trunk was well and truly locked! There were
two good locks, and no keys!
"Blow!"
said George. "How sickening! How can we get the trunk open now?"
"We
can't," said Julian. "And we mustn't smash it open, because it would
warn whoever it belongs to that the goods had been found. We don't want to-warn
the smugglers that we have discovered their little game. We want to try and
catch them!"
"Ooooh!"
said Anne, going red with excitement. "Catch the smugglers! Oh Julian! Do
you really think we could?"
"Why
not?" said Julian. "No one knows we are here. If we hid whenever we
saw a ship approaching the island, we might see a boat coming to it, and we
could watch and find out what is happening. I should think that the smugglers
are using this island as a sort of dropping-place for goods. I wonder who comes
and fetches them? Someone from Kirrin Village or the nearby places, I should
think."
"This
is going to be awfully exciting," said Dick. "We always seem to have
adventures when we come to Kirrin It's absolutely full of them. This will be
the third one we have had."
"I
think we ought to be getting back over the rocks, said Julian, suddenly looking
over the side of the ship and seeing that the tide had turned. "Come on —
we don't want to be caught by the tide and have to stay here for hours and
hours! I'll go down the rope first. Then you come, Anne."
They
were soon climbing over the rocks again, feeling very excited. Just as they
reached the last stretch of rock leading to the rocky cliff of the island
itself, Dick stopped.
"What's
up?" said George, pushing behind him. "Do get on!"
"Isn't
that a cave, just beyond that big rock there?" said Dick, pointing.
"It looks awfully like one to me. If it was, it would be a simply lovely
place to store our things in, and even to sleep in, if it was out of reach of
the sea."
"There
aren't any caves on Kirrin," began George, and then she stopped short.
What Dick was pointing at really did look like a cave. It was worth while
seeing if it was one. After all, George had never explored this line of rocks,
and so had never been able to catch sight of the cave that lay just beyond. It
could not possibly be seen from the land.
"We'll
go and see," she said. So they changed their direction, and instead of
climbing back the way they had come, they cut across the mass of rock and made
their way towards a jutting-out part of the cliff, in which the cave seemed to
be.
They
came to it ,at last. Steep rocks guarded the entrance, and half hid it. Except
from where Dick had seen it, it was really impossible to catch sight of it, it
was so well-hidden.
. "It is a cave!" said Dick, in
delight, stepping into it. "And my, what a fine one!"
It
really was a beauty. Its floor was spread with fine white sand, as soft as
powder, and perfectly dry, for the cave was clearly higher than the tide
reached, except, possibly in a bad winter storm. Round one side of it ran a
stone ledge.
"Exactly
like a shelf made for us!" cried Anne, in joy. "We can put all our
things here. How lovely! Let's come
and
live here and sleep here. And look, Julian—we've even got a skylight in the
roof!"
The
little girl pointed upwards, and the others saw that the roof of the cave was
open in one part, giving on to the cliff-top itself. It was plain that
somewhere on the heathery cliff above was a hole that looked down to the cave,
making what Anne called a "skylight'.
"We
could drop all our things down through that hole," said Julian, quickly
making plans. "We would have an awful time bringing them over the rocks.
If we can find that hole up there when we are out on the cliff again, we can
let down everything on a rope. It's not a very high "skylight", as
Anne calls it, for the cliffs are low just here. I believe we could swing
ourselves down a rope easily, so that we needn't have the bother of clambering
over the rocks to the seaward entrance we have just come in by!"
This
was a grand discovery. "Our island is even more exciting than we
thought," said Anne, happily. "We've got a beautiful cave to share
now!"
The
next thing to do, of course, was to go up on the cliff and find the hole that
led to the roof of the cave. So out they all went, Timmy too. Timmy was funny
on the slippery rocks. His feet slithered about, and two or three times he fell
into the water.
"He's
like George!" said Anne, with a laugh. "He never gives up, whatever
happens to him!"
They
climbed up to the top of the cliff. It was easy to find the hole once they knew
it was there.
"Pretty
dangerous, really," said Julian, when he had
found
it, and was peering down. "Any one of us might have run on this cliff and
popped down the hole by accident. See, it's all criss-crossed with blackberry
brambles."
They
scratched their hands, trying to free the hole from the brambles. Once they had
cleared the hole, they could look right down into the cave quite easily.
"It's
not very far down," said Anne. "It looks almost as if we could jump
down, if we let ourselves slide down this hole."
"Don't
you do anything of the sort," said Julian. "You'd break your leg.
Wait till we get a rope fixed up, hanging down into the cave. Then we can
manage to get in and out easily."
They
went back to the boat, and began unloading it. They took everything across to
the seaward side of the island, where the cave was. Julian took a strong rope
and knotted it thickly at intervals.
"To
give our feet a hold as we go down," he explained.  These knots will stop us slipping and help
us to climb up."
"Let
me go down first, and then you can lower all our things to me," said
George. So down she went, hand over hand, her feet easily finding the thick
knots, feeling for one after another. It was a good way to go down.
"How
shall we get Timmy down?" said Julian. But Timothy, who had been whining
anxiously at the edge of the hole, watching George sliding away from him,
solved the difficulty himself.
He
jumped into the hole and disappeared down it! There came a shriek from below.
"Oh!
My goodness, what's this! Oh Timmy! Have you hurt yourself?"
The
sand was very soft, like a velvet cushion and Tim had not hurt himself at all.
He gave himself a shake and then barked joyfully. He was with George again! He
wasn't going to have his mistress disappearing down mysterious holes without
following her at once. Not Timmy!
Then
followed the business of lowering down all the goods. Anne and Dick tied the
things together in rugs, and Julian lowered them carefully. George untied the
rope as soon as it reached her, took out the goods, and then back went the rope
again to be tied round another bundle.
"Last
one!" called Julian, after a long spell of really hard work. "Then
down we come too, and I don't mind telling you that before we make our beds or
anything, our next job is to have a jolly good meal!
Soon
they were all sitting on the warm soft floor of the cave. They opened a tin of
meat, cut huge slices of bread and made sandwiches. Then they opened a tin of
pineapple chunks and ate those, spooning them out of the tin full of sweetness
and juice. After that they still felt hungry so they opened two tins of
sardines and dug them out wit! biscuits. It made a really grand meal.

"We'd
better hurry up or we shan't be able to get heather for our beds," said
George, sleepily.
"Who
wants heather?" said Dick, "I don't! This lovely soft sand is all I
shall want—and a cushion and a rug or two. I shall sleep better here than ever
I did in bed!"
So
the rugs and cushions were spread out on the sandy floor of the cave. A candle
was lighted as it grew dark, and the four sleepy children looked at one
another. Timmy, as usual, was with George.
"Good-night,"
said George. "I can't keep awake another minute.
Chapter
Thirteen.
A
DAY ON THE ISLAND.
THE
children hardly knew where they were the next day when they woke up. The sun
was pouring into the cave entrance, and fell first of all on George's sleeping
face. It awoke her and she lay half-dozing, wondering why her bed felt rather
less soft than usual.
"But
I'm not in my bed—I'm on Kirrin Island, of course!" she thought suddenly
to herself. She sat up and gave Anne a punch. "Wake up, sleepy-head! We're
on the island!"
 "I think I'm going
to get heather today for my bed, after all," said Anne. "The sand
feels soft at first, but it gets hard after a bit."
The
others agreed that they would all get heather for their beds, set on the sand,
with rugs for covering. Then they would have really fine beds.
"It's
fun to live in a cave," said Dick. "Fancy having a fine cave like
this on our island, as well as a castle and dungeons! We arc really very
lucky."
"I
feel sticky and dirty," said Julian. "Let's go and have a bathe
before we have breakfast. Then cold ham, bread, pickles and marmalade for
me!"
"We
shall be cold after our bathe," said George. "We'd better light my
little stove and put the kettle on to boil while we're bathing. Then we can
make some hot cocoa when we come back shivering!"
"Oh
yes," said Anne, who had never boiled anything on such a tiny stove
before. "Do let's. I'll fill the kettle with water from one of the
containers. What shall we do for milk?"
"There's
a tin of milk somewhere in the pile," said Julian. "We can open that.
Where's the tin-opener?"
It
was not to be found which was most exasperating. But at last Julian discovered
it in his pocket, so all was well.
The
little stove was filled with methylated spirit, and lighted. The kettle was
filled and set on top. Then the children went off to bathe.
"Look!
There's a simply marvellous pool in the middle of those rocks over there!"
called Julian, pointing. "We've never spotted it before. Golly, it's like
a small swimming-pool, made specially for us!"
"Kirrin
Swimming Pool, five pence a dip!" said Dick. "Free to the owners,
though! Come on—it looks gorgeous! And see how the waves keep washing over the
top of the rocks and splashing into the pool. Couldn't be better!"
It
really was a lovely rock-pool, deep, clear and not too cold. The children
enjoyed themselves thoroughly, splashing about and swimming and floating.
George tried a dive off one of the rocks, and went in beautifully.
"George
can do anything in the water," said Anne, admiringly. "I wish I could
dive and swim like George. But I never shall.*
"We
can see the old wreck nicely from here," said Julian, coming out of the
water. "Blow! We didn't bring any towels."
"We'll
use one of the rugs, turn and turn about," said
Dick.
"I'll go and fetch the thinnest one. I say—do you remember that trunk we
saw in the wreck yesterday? Odd, wasn't it?"
"Yes,
very odd," said Julian. "I don't understand it. We'll have to keep a
watch on the wreck and see who comes to collect the trunk."
"I
suppose the smugglers—if they are smugglers—will come slinking round this side
of the island and quietly send off a boat to the wreck," said George,
drying herself vigorously. "Well, we'd better keep a strict look-out, and
see if anything appears on the sea out there in the way of a small steamer,
boat or ship."
"Yes.
We don't want them to spot us," said Dick. "We shan't find out
anything if they see us and are warned. They'd at once give up coming to the
island. I vote we each of us take turns at keeping a look-out, so that we can
spot anything at once and get under cover."
"Good
idea!" said Julian. "Well, I'm dry, but not very warm. Let's race to the
cave, and get that hot drink. And breakfast — golly, I—could eat a whole
chicken and probably a duck as well, to say nothing of a turkey."
The
others laughed. They all felt the same. They raced off to the cave, running
over the sand and climbing over a few rocks, then down to the cave-beach and
into the big entrance, still splashed with sunshine. .
The
kettle .was boiling away merrily, sending a cloud of steam up from its tin
spout. "Get the ham out and a loaf of bread, and that jar of pickles we
brought," ordered Julian. "I'll open the tin of milk. George, you
take the tin of cocoa and that jug, and make enough for all of us."
"I'm
so terribly happy," said Anne, as she sat at the
entrance
to the cave, eating her breakfast. "It's a lovely feeling. It's simply
gorgeous being on our island like this, all by ourselves, able to do what we
like."
They
all felt the same. It was such a lovely day too, and the sky and sea were so
blue. They sat eating and drinking, gazing out to sea, watching the waves break
into spray over the rocks beyond the old wreck. It certainly was a very rocky
coast.
"Let's
arrange everything very nicely in the cave," said Anne, who was the
tidiest of the four, and always liked to
play
at "houses" if she could. "This shall be our house, our home.
We'll make four proper beds. And we'll each have our own place to sit in. And
we'll arrange everything tidily on that big stone shelf there. It might have
been made for us!"
"We'll
leave Anne to play "houses" by herself," said George, who was
longing to stretch her legs again. "We'll go and get some heather for
beds. And oh!—what about one of us keeping a watch on the old wreck, to see who
comes there?"
"Yes—that's
important," said Julian at once. "I'll take first watch. The best
place would be up on the cliff just above this cave. I can find a gorse bush
that will hide me all right from anyone out at sea. You others get the heather.
We will take two-hourly watches. We can read if we like, so long as we keep on
looking up."
Dick
and George went to get the heather. Julian climbed up the knotted rope that
still hung down through the hole, tied firmly to the great old root of an
enormous gorse bush. He pulled himself out on the cliff and lay on the heather
panting.
He
could see nothing but to sea at all except for some big steamer miles out on
the sky-line. He lay down in the sun, enjoying the warmth that poured into
every inch of his body. This look-out job was going to be very nice!
He
could hear Anne singing down in the cave as she tidied up her "house'. Her
voice came up through the cave-roof hole, rather muffled. Julian smiled. He
knew Anne was enjoying herself thoroughly.
So
she was. She had washed the few bits of crockery they had used for breakfast,
in a most convenient little
rain-pool
outside the cave. Timmy used it for drinking-water too, but he didn't seem to
mind Anne using it for washing-up water, though she apologised to him for doing
so.

"Woof!"
said Timmy, and ran off to meet George, who was just arriving back with Dick,
armed with masses of soft, sweet-smelling heather for beds.
"Put
the heather outside the cave, please George," said Anne. "I'll make
the beds inside when I'm ready."
"Right!"
said George. "We'll go and get some more. Aren't we having fun?"
"Julian's
gone up the rope to the top of the cliff," said Anne. "He'll yell if
he sees anything unusual. I hope he does, don't you?"
"It
would be exciting," agreed Dick, putting down his heather on top of Timmy,
and nearly burying him. "Oh sorry Timmy—are you there? Bad luck!"
Anne
had a very happy morning. She arranged everything beautifully on the shelf-
crockery and knives and forks and spoons in one place —saucepan and kettle in
another — tins of meat next, tins of soup together, tins of fruit neatly piled
on top of one another. It really was a splendid larder and dresser!
She
wrapped all the bread up in an old tablecloth they had brought, and put it at
the back of the cave in the coolest place she could find. The containers of
water went there too, and so did all the bottles of drinks.
Then
the little girl set to work to make the beds. She decided to make two nice big
ones, one on each side of the cave.
"George
and I and Tim will have the one this side," she thought, busy patting down
the heather into the shape of a bed. "And Julian and Dick can have the
other side. I shall want lots more heather. Oh, is that you, Dick? You're just
in time! I want more heather."
Soon
the beds were made beautifully, and each had an old rug for an under-blanket,
and two better rugs for covers. Cushions made pillows.
"What
a pity we didn't bring night-things," thought Anne. "I could have
folded them neatly and put them under the cushions. There! It all looks lovely.
We've got a beautiful house."
Julian
came sliding down the rope from the cliff to the cave. He looked round
admiringly. "My word, Anne—the cave does look fine! Everything in order
and looking so tidy.
Anne
was pleased to hear Julian's praise, though she didn't like him calling her a
little girl.
"Yes,
it does look nice, doesn't it?" she said. "But why aren't you
watching up on the cliff, Ju?"
"It's
Dick's turn now," said Julian. "The two hours are up. Did we bring
any biscuits? I feel as if I could do with one or two, and I bet the others
could too. Let's all go up to the cliff-top and have some. George and Timmy are
there with Dick."
Anne
knew exactly where to put her hand on the tin of biscuits. She took out ten and