Mystery of Tally-Ho Cottage (10 page)

Fatty’s heart began to beat fast. Who was this? He fumbled for his torch, meaning to flash it suddenly on the man’s face, and then run off at top speed to telephone a warning.

He forgot about the moon! Just as he was about to switch on his torch, the moon shot out from behind the cloud, and immediately the place was flooded with light!

Fatty found himself gazing at a tall policeman in a helmet - and the policeman was also gazing at Fatty, looking most astonished! He put a whistle to his mouth and whistled shrilly, taking a step towards Fatty at the same time.

‘It’s all right,’ began Fatty, ‘I…’ - and then, up galloped Goon from his hiding-place behind the nearby summerhouse. His mouth fell open when he saw Fatty.

Then he advanced on him in rage. ‘You! You again! Don’t I ever get rid of you, Toad of a Boy! You were all them owls, I suppose, hooting like mad! What you doing here? I’ll tell the Chief of this. Obstructing the Course of Duty - Interfering with the Law - messing up things when we’re on watch!’

‘I didn’t know you were watching, Goon,’ said Fatty. ‘I’m sorry to have disturbed you. This is honestly a mistake.’

The other policeman stood gaping in surprise. Who was this boy?

‘What’s your name?’ he said, taking out a notebook.

‘I know his name!’ said Goon angrily. ‘I’ve heard it too often, I can tell you that! This is Frederick Trotteville, and this time he’s going to get into trouble. Arrest him as an Intruder on Private Property, Constable!’

‘Wait a minute - is this really Frederick Trotteville?’ said the other policeman. ‘He’s a friend of the Chief’s, isn’t he? I’m not arresting him, Goon. You can do that if you want to!’

‘You do as I tell you,’ said Goon, losing his temper. ‘Who do you think you are, giving me my orders? You’re under my orders tonight, P.C. Johns, as well you know.’

The moon went most conveniently behind a thick cloud at this point, and Fatty thought it would be just as well if he slipped away. He really didn’t want to be arrested - and he was sorry that he had barged into Goon’s little spot of night-duty. No wonder Ern had done such a lot of urgent hooting - he must have seen Goon and the other policeman wandering about in the bright moonlight!

Fatty slipped out of the wicket-gate and trotted swiftly home, pondering over what was the best thing to do. Should he ring up the Superintendent and tell him of his unfortunate meeting with Goon and his companion? Surely the Chief would know that Fatty was only trying to help?

Perhaps on the whole it would be best to leave it till the morning, and then telephone. Goon would have simmered down by then. Fatty would go and see him and apologize for barging in. Goon loved an apology!

So Fatty did not telephone, but went soberly to bed, hushing Buster’s ecstatic but silent welcome. He heard an owl hooting nearby and grinned as he pulled the sheet up to his chin. Poor Goon! He must have been quite bewildered by all the owl-hoots sent out by the terrified Ern!

Ern was still up in the tree. He had an extremely good view of the grounds when the moon was out, for everything was then as distinct as in the daytime, though the shadows were very black.

Ern was shivering, not so much with cold as with excitement and panic. He had spotted Goon and his companion about eleven o’clock, before Fatty had appeared, when the moonlight had suddenly glittered on their helmets. There was no mistaking his uncle, of course - plump and stocky. The other policeman Ern didn’t know.

Ern watched them walking round the big house peeping into all the windows and trying the doors. Then they disappeared. Were they expecting the Lorenzos after all? Were they hiding and lying in wait?

Old Fatty wouldn’t know that! He might walk straight into them. Ern fell into a panic and shivered so much that he shook the little treehouse from end to end.

He wondered what to do. Should he slip down the tree and go and see if he could meet Fatty and warn him? No - he didn’t know which way Fatty would be coming - by the river-gate or the front gates. He might miss him!

Well, should he stay in the tree and wait for Fatty to come, and then try to warn him by hooting and hooting? But would he see Fatty? The moon might be in behind a cloud, and then he couldn’t possibly see anyone!

Ern decided, shivering, that the best thing to do would be to wait and hope to see Fatty - and then hoot for all he was worth.

He spotted Fatty easily as the boy trod stealthily up the garden. Ern’s spy-hole was indeed a good one! He hooted - and Fatty answered him. And then poor Ern spied Goon and the other policeman, standing behind the corner of the house - and now, where had Goon gone? Oh, yes, behind the summerhouse! Ern hooted urgently - and to his utter disgust, an owl flew over in surprise, hooting too. Ern shook his fist at it - spoiling all his plans! Now Fatty wouldn’t know one hoot from another!

Ern then saw the encounter between Fatty and Goon and the other policeman, though he could hear nothing except a murmur of voices. His eyes nearly fell out of his head with trying to see what was happening. Oh, Fatty, Fatty, make a run for it! Ern found himself saying the words over and over again.

Then the moon went behind a cloud - and when it came out again, oh joy! Ern saw a running figure on the river-path - and the two policemen hunting here and there for the vanished Fatty!

Ern heaved an enormous sigh of relief. He slumped back into the treehouse, feeling quite tired after all the suspense.

Stir yourself, Ern! The night isn’t finished yet!

Ern gave a few more sighs, each one less enormous than the last. By now Fatty would be well on the way home. Had Goon recognized him? Ern was afraid that he had. He sat up again and peered out.

Ah - there were Goon and the other constable walking side by side, arguing. Then Goon stood and began to swing his great arms to and fro across his chest.

‘He’s cold,’ said Ern to himself. ‘Serve him right! I hope he freezes! I hope he’s got to stay and watch Tally-Ho House all night long. Grrrrr!’

It was a most blood-curdling growl that Ern gave, and he even scared himself. He realized that his hands and feet were remarkably cold, and he thought longingly of his warm bed.

‘I can’t do anything more tonight,’ he thought, beginning to climb down the tree, with the rug and blanket draped round his neck. ‘I’ll go back to the house.’

He climbed right down and went to the cottage. To his horror the kitchen door was now locked! He shook it quietly, filled with dismay. Who had locked it? He supposed that his uncle must have awakened at some noise - and have got up to investigate, and found the door unlocked. Blow, blow, blow!

‘Well - I’m not going to knock at the door and give everybody a fright,’ thought Ern. ‘I’ll just go back to the tree now, and explain tomorrow morning that I thought I’d like a night-out up there, and that’s where I was. They’ll think I’m potty, but I can’t help that!’

Ern debated with himself. He would have liked another blanket. He remembered that there were piles of old newspapers in his Uncle Woosh’s shed. He had heard that newspaper was a very, very warm covering, so he decided to take a few dozen papers up the tree with him.

Armed with these, he went back to the treehouse.

It really seemed very cosy and comfortable after the cold air down in the yard. Ern spread out the newspaper and made himself a kind of bed. Then he wrapped a few papers round him, pulled the blanket and the rug over him, and put his head on the cushion. He had to lie curled up, because the treehouse was really very small. On the other hand Ern was not really very big!

He began to get warm. He felt quite comfortable. He yawned a huge yawn. At the same moment an owl passed by the tree and hooted.

‘Hoo! Hoo-hoo-hoo-HOO!’

Ern was up like a shot. Was that old Fatty back again? He peered out of the tree but could see nothing - not even a sign of Goon and his companion. The gardens lay bathed in the brilliant moonlight, undisturbed and peaceful. The owl flew by again, and this time Ern saw it.

‘Hoo!’ began the owl, ‘hoo, hoo…’

Ern put his hands to his mouth in the proper position for hooting, and joined in loudly. ‘Hoo-HOO-HOO-HOO-HOO!’

The owl gave a frightened ‘tvit’ and swerved off at once. Ern watched it go. ‘Now don’t you come hooting round me again!’ he said. I’ve had enough of you tonight!’

And once more Ern cuddled down in his newspapers and blankets and shut his eyes! This time he fell fast asleep, and slept for about two hours.

Then a noise awakened him. At first he couldn’t think where he was. He sat up in a fright. Then he saw the moonlight outside the tree and remembered. What had awakened him?

He heard a noise. It was a quiet, humming kind of noise, some way away. Was it an aeroplane? Perhaps. Was it a car far away on a road? Yes - it sounded more like that.

Ern lay down again. He shut his eyes. Then he heard another noise and sat up.

Splash! Splash-splash! Ern looked out of the tree again. Was somebody swimming in the river at this time of night? No - not on a frosty night in January! Still - there was that soft splash-splash again! Ern strained his eyes over towards the river.

He saw something white sailing on it - two white things - and one or two shadowy ones behind. He laughed.

‘It’s the swans - and their babies! I’m daft! Imagining all kinds of things when it’s only a couple of swans and their family. Well, fancy them keeping awake all night! I thought they put their heads under their wings and slept.’

Ern lay down again, determined that he wouldn’t be disturbed by any more noises. There was no sign of Goon now, or of his companion. The owl had stopped hooting. The swans had stopped splashing. He didn’t mean to let himself be disturbed by ANYTHING else!

He was soon half-asleep. Small noises came to him on the night-wind, and once he thought he heard voices, but was sure he was dreaming. He imagined he heard a dog barking and half-opened his eyes. Yes, it was. Probably Poppet - it sounded exactly like her high little bark. She’d get slapped for waking the couple up in the middle of the night!

Ern fell into such a sound sleep that not even the owl awoke him when it came and sat on his very tree, and gave a sudden mournful hoot. Ern slept on. Dawn came slowly, and the sun sent golden fingers into the sky. Soon it would be light.

Em awoke. He sat up, bewildered, but then remembered everything. He’d better get up and climb down the tree. His aunt would wonder where he was - she must be up and about.

Ern was just about to climb down the tree when he heard shouting. Loud, angry shouts - and then he heard bangs - bang-bang-bang! BANG, BANG, BANG! Gracious goodness, what was all that? Ern slithered down the tree and went to the hedge and listened. The noise came from somewhere in the grounds of Tally-Ho House. Ern wondered what it was. It couldn’t be Fatty back again, and in trouble, surely!

He slipped through the hedge and went by the Larkins’ cottage. The door opened and the old man came out, plump in his old overcoat, his scarf and cap on as usual. He limped over to Ern.

‘What’s that noise?’ he said, in his hoarse voice. You go and see. My wife’s ill today and I don’t want to leave her.’

Ern nodded at the dirty old man and went cautiously in the direction of the noise. It grew louder. BANG-BANG! HELP! LET US OUT! BANG-BANG!

Ern was mystified. Who was locked in and where - and why? It wasn’t Fatty’s voice, thank goodness.

Ern went in the direction of the noise. It sounded round the further corner of the house, where the boiler-house was. Ern turned the corner and saw the small boiler-house not far off.

Yes - the noise was coming from there. Ern looked at the little place fearfully. He wasn’t letting anyone out till he knew who they were!

He went cautiously up to the boiler-house and stood on a box outside to look in at the small window. He was so astounded at what he saw that he fell off the box.

Inside the boiler-house, furiously angry, were Mr. Goon and the other policeman! Their helmets were hanging on a nail. Ern saw two hot, furious faces upturned to him as he appeared at the window, and heard more loud shouts.

‘Open the door! Ern! What you doing here? OPEN THE DOOR AND LET US OUT!’

Goon had been most astonished to see Ern’s scared face at the tiny little window, but very thankful. Now perhaps they could get out of this stifling boiler-house and get something to eat and drink.

‘Why did we ever come in here?’ groaned Goon, as he heard Ern struggling with the large, stiff key in the outer side of the door. ‘It was so cold, and it seemed such a good idea to light up the boiler and shut the door and have a little warm!’

‘Must have been the fumes that sent us off to sleep so sudden-like,’ said his companion dolefully. ‘I feel as if my head’s bursting. Drat that boy - why can’t he unlock the door?’

‘Buck up, Ern, you dolt!’ roared Mr. Goon. ‘We’re cooking-hot in here.’

‘Who locked us in?’ said the other man. ‘That’s what I want to know. It wouldn’t be the Lorenzos, would it now? They couldn’t have come after all, could they?’

‘No! I’ve told you - it was that boy Frederick Trotteville - the one we found here last night,’ said Goon crossly. ‘One of his funny tricks - ho, he’ll laugh on the other side of his face this time. l go straight to the Chief about this - dead straight! Locking us into a boiler-house - why we might have been dead with the fumes this morning! ERN - what you doing out there? You’ve only got to turn the key. Are you asleep, boy?’

‘No, Uncle. And don’t you talk to me like that when I’m doing my best to help you,’ panted Ern. ‘It’s a whopping big key and very rusty. I’ve a good mind to leave you here if you don’t talk proper to me when I’m trying hard.’

Mr. Goon was amazed to hear this cheek from Ern. But he had to swallow his wrath and speak in honey-like tones, afraid that Ern really would go off and leave them.

‘Now, Ern - it’s only because we’re almost cooked,’ he said. ‘I know you’re doing your best. Ah - there’s a good lad - the key’s turned!’

Ern fled as his uncle and the second policeman walked out of the boiler-house. One look at their beetroot-like faces and protruding eyes was enough for him. Goon and his companion walked with as much dignity as they could muster past the Larkins’ cottage on their way to the river.