Mystery of the Hidden House (2 page)

“It’s a great pity,” said Mrs. Trotteville, who had been listening to all this with astonishment and dismay. “He must have thought you were very rude. Now Mr. Goon will probably complain about the behaviour of you children again.”

“But, Mother - can’t you see that …” began Fatty.

“Don’t begin to argue, please, Frederick,” said Mrs. Trotteville. “It seems to me that you will have to go and explain to Mr. Goon that the others thought his nephew was you.”

“Yes, Mother,” said Fatty in a meek voice.

“And on no account must you start a feud against this boy,” went on Mrs. Trotteville.

“No, Mother,” said Fatty meekly.

“I do want you to keep out of any mysteries or problems these holidays,” said Mrs. Trotteville.

“Yes, Mother,” said Fatty. Mrs. Trotteville heard a suppressed giggle from Bets and Daisy. They knew perfectly well that Fatty didn’t mean a word he was saying. Who could keep him out of a mystery if he even so much as smelt one? Who could imagine that he would go and explain anything to Mr. Goon?

“Don’t say ‘Yes, Mother,’ and ‘No, Mother’ like that unless you mean it,” said Mrs. Trotteville, wishing she didn’t feel annoyed with Fatty almost as soon as she had met him.

“No, Mother. I mean, yes, Mother,” said Fatty. “Well - I mean whatever you want me to say, Mother. Can the others come to tea?”

“Certainly not,” said Mrs. Trotteville. “I want to have a little chat with you and hear all your news - and then you have your bag to unpack - and soon your father will be home, and…”

“Yes, Mother,” said Fatty, hastily. “Well, can the others come round afterwards? I haven’t seen them at all these hols. I’ve got presents for them. I didn’t send them any at Christmas.”

The mention of presents suddenly made Bets remember that she had given her precious notebook to the fat boy. She bit her lip in horror. Gracious! He had put it into his pocket! She hadn’t asked for it back, because she had been so scared when he had offered to fight them all, that she had forgotten all about the notebook.

“I gave that boy the present I had made for you,” she said, in a rather shaky voice. “It was a notebook with your name on the front.”

“Just what I want!” said Fatty, cheerfully, and gave Bets a squeeze. “I’ll get it back from that boy, don’t you worry!”

“Now, just remember what I say,” warned Mrs. Trotteville, as they came to her gate. “There’s to be no silly feud with that boy. He might be very nice.”

Everyone looked doubtful. They were as certain as they could be that any nephew of Mr. Goon’s must be as awful as the policeman himself. Buster barked loudly, and Bets felt sure he must be agreeing with them in his doggy language.

“Mother, you haven’t said if the others can come round this evening,” said Fatty, as they went in at the gate.

“No. Not this evening,” said Mrs. Trotteville, much to everyone’s disappointment. “You can meet them tomorrow. Good-bye, children. Give my love to your mothers.”

Fatty and Buster disappeared up the path with Mrs. Trotteville. The others outside the gate looked gloomily at one another and then walked slowly down the road.

“She might have let us have just a little chat with Fatty.” said Larry.

“We made an awful noise last time we went to Fatty’s,” said Bets, remembering. “We thought Mrs. Trotteville was out, do you remember - and we played a dreadful game Fatty made up, called Elephant-Hunting…”

“And Mrs. Trotteville was in all the time and we never heard her yelling at us to stop because we were making such a row,” said Pip. “That was a good game. We must remember that.”

“I say, do you think that the boy was Mr. Goon’s nephew?” said Daisy. “If he tells Mr. Goon all we did we’ll get a few more black marks from him!”

“He’ll know who we are,” said Bets, dolefully. “That boy’s got the notebook I made - and there’s Fatty’s name on it. And, of dear, inside I’ve printed in my best printing, headings to some of the pages. I’ve printed ‘CLUES,’ ‘SUSPECTS,’ and things like that. So Mr. Goon will know we’re looking out for another mystery.”

“Well, silly, what does that matter?” demanded Pip. “Let him think what he likes!”

“She’s always so scared of Old Clear-Orf,” said Daisy. “I’m not! We’re much cleverer than he is. We’ve solved mysteries that he hasn’t even been able to begin solving.”

“I hope Mr. Goon won’t come and complain to our parents about our behaviour to that boy,” said Pip. “Honestly, we must have seemed a bit dotty to him. Goon will probably think we did it all on purpose - made a set at the boy just because he was his nephew.”

Pip’s fear of being complained about was very real. He had strict parents who had very strong ideas about good and bad behaviour. Larry and Daisy’s parents were not so strict and Fatty’s rarely bothered about him so long as he was polite and good mannered.

But Pip had had some angry tickings-off from his father and two or three canings, and he and Bets were always afraid of Mr. Goon coming to complain. So, when they arrived home that afternoon to tea, they were horrified to hear from their maid, Lorna, that a Mr. Goon had been ringing up their mother ten minutes before.

“I hope as how you haven’t got into mischief,” said Lorna, who liked the children. “He says he’s coming to see your Ma tonight. She’s out to tea now, I thought I’d just warn you in case you’ve gone and got yourselves into trouble.”

“Thank you awfully, Lorna,” said Pip and went to have a gloomy tea in the playroom alone with Bets, who also looked extremely down in the dumps. How could they have thought that boy was Fatty? Now that she came to think of it Bets could quite clearly see that the boy was coarse and lumpish - not even Fatty could look like that!

The two children decided to warn Larry and Daisy, so they rang them up.

“Gosh!” said Larry. “Fancy listening to tales from that clod of a nephew about us! I don’t expect my mother will pay much attention to Mr. Goon - but yours will! Horrid old man. Cheer up. We’ll meet tomorrow and discuss it all.”

Pip and Bets waited for their mother to come in. Thank goodness their father was not with her. They went down to greet her.

“Mother,” said Pip, “We - er - we want to tell you something. Er - you see…”

“Now, what mischief have you got into?” said Mrs. Hilton, impatiently. “Have you broken something? Tell me without all this humming and hawing.”

“No. We haven’t broken anything,” said Bets. “But you see, we went to meet Fatty at the station…”

“And there was a fat boy we thought was Fatty in one of his disguises,” went on Pip, “so we followed him up the road, pretending not to know him…”

“And then we called out ‘Fatty’ to him, and told him we knew him - and he was angry, and…”

“And what you mean is, you made a silly mistake and called a strange boy Fatty, and he was annoyed,” said Mrs. Hilton, making an impatient tapping noise on the table.

“Why must you do idiotic things? Well, I suppose you apologized, so there’s not much harm done.”

“We didn’t actually apologize,” said Pip. “We really thought he was Fatty. But he wasn’t. He was Mr. Goon’s nephew.”

Mrs. Hilton looked really annoyed. “And now I suppose I shall have that policeman here complaining about you again. Well, you know what your father said last time, Pip - he said…”

The door opened and Lorna came in. “Please, Madam, there’s Mr. Goon wanting to see you. Shall I show him in?”

Before Mrs. Hilton could say yes or no, the two children had opened the French windows that led to the garden and had shot out into the darkness. Pip wished he hadn’t gone, as soon as he was out there, but Bets had clutched him so desperately that he had shot off with her. A great draught of icy air blew into the sitting-room behind them.

Mrs. Hilton closed the garden door, looking cross. Mr. Goon came into the room, walking slowly and pompously. He thought that Mr. and Mrs. Hilton were proper parents - they listened to him seriously when he made complaints. Well, he was going to enjoy himself now!

“Sit down, Mr. Goon,” said Mrs. Hilton, trying to be polite. “What can I do for you?”

Ern

Pip and Bets went round to the kitchen door and let themselves in. The cook was out and Lorna was upstairs. They fled past the big black cat on the hearthrug and went up to their playroom.

“I should have stayed,” said Pip. “I haven’t done anything wrong. It was silly to run away. It will make Mother think we really are in the wrong.”

“Hark! Isn’t that Daddy coming in?” said Bets. “Yes, it is. He’ll walk straight in on top of them, and hear everything too!”

Mr. Goon seemed to stay a long time, but at last he went. Mrs. Hilton called to Pip.

“Pip! Bring Bets down here, please. We have something to say to you.”

The two children went downstairs, Bets quite plainly scared, and Pip putting on a very brave face. To their surprise their parents did not seem angry at all.

“Pip,” said his mother, “Mr. Goon came to tell us that he has his nephew staying with him. He says he is a very nice lad indeed, very straightforward and honest - and he says he would be glad if none of you five led him into any trouble. You know that every holiday you seem to have been mixed up in mysteries of some kind or other - there was that burnt cottage - and the disappearing cat - and…”

“And the spiteful letters, and the secret room, and the missing necklace,” said Pip, relieved to find that apparently Mr. Goon hadn’t done much complaining.

“Yes. Quite,” said his father. “Well, Mr. Goon doesn’t want his nephew mixed up in anything like that. He says he has promised the boy’s mother to look after him well these holidays, and he doesn’t want you dragging him into any mystery or danger…”

“As if we’d want to do that!” said Pip, in disgust. “His nephew is just a great clod. We don’t want to drag him into anything - we’d like to leave him severely alone.”

“Well, see you do,” said his mother. “Be friendly and polite to him, please. Apparently you were very rude and puzzling to him today - but as Pip had already explained to me the mistake you made, I quite saw that you didn’t really mean to be rude. Mr. Goon was very nice about that.”

“We won’t drag his nephew into anything,” said Pip. “If we find a mystery we’ll keep it to ourselves.”

“That’s another thing I want to say to you,” said his father. “I don’t like you being mixed up in these things. It is the job of the police to solve these mysteries and to clear up any crimes that are committed. It’s time you five children kept out of them. I forbid you to try and solve any mysteries these holidays.”

Pip and Bets stared at him in the greatest dismay. “But I say - we belong to the Five Find-Outers,” stammered Pip. “We must do our bit if a mystery comes along. I mean, really… why, we couldn’t possibly promise to…”

“Mr. Goon has already been to Larry and Daisy’s parents,” said Mrs. Hilton. “They have said that they too will forbid their children to get mixed up in any mysteries these holidays. Neither you nor they are to look for any, you understand?”

“But - but suppose one comes - and we’re mixed up in it without knowing?” asked Bets. “Like the missing necklace mystery.”

“Oh, one won’t come if you don’t look for it,” said Mr. Hilton. “Naturally if you got plunged into the middle of one without your knowledge nobody could blame you - but these things don’t happen like that. I just simply forbid you above all to allow Mr. Goon’s nephew to get mixed up in anything of the kind.”

“You can go now,” said Mrs. Hilton. “Don’t look so miserable! Any one would think you couldn’t be happy without some kind of mystery round the corner!”

“Well,” began Pip, and then decided to say no more. How could he explain the delight of smelling out a mystery, of making a list of Clues and Suspects, of trying to fit everything together like a jigsaw puzzle till the answer came, and the picture was complete?

He and Bets went out of the room and climbed up the stairs to their playroom. “Fancy Larry and Daisy being forbidden too,” said Pip. “I wonder if Mr. Goon went to Fatty’s people too?”

“Well, I shouldn’t think it would be any good forbidding Fatty to get mixed up in anything,” said Bets.

Bets was right. It wasn’t any good. Fatty talked his mother and father over to his point of view under the very nose of Mr. Goon.

“I’ve been very useful indeed to Inspector Jenks,” he told his parents. “You know I have. And you know I’m going to be the finest detective in the world when I’m grown up. I’m sure if you ring up the Inspector, Mother, he will tell you not to forbid me to do anything I want to. He trusts me.”

Inspector Jenks was a great friend of the children’s. He was chief of the police in the next town, head of the whole district. Mr. Goon was in great awe of him. The children had certainly helped the Inspector many times in the way they had tackled various mysterious happenings.

“You ring up the Inspector, Mother,” said Fatty, seeing that the policeman didn’t want Mrs. Trotteville to do this at all. “I’m sure he’ll say Mr. Goon is wrong.”

“Don’t you bother the Inspector, Mrs. Trotteville, please,” said Mr. Goon. “He’s a busy man. I wouldn’t have come to you if it hadn’t have been for this young nephew of mine - nice fellow he is, simple and innocent - and I don’t want him led into all sorts of dangers, see?”

“Well, I’m sure Frederick will promise not to lead him into danger,” said Mrs. Trotteville. “It’s the last thing he would want.”

Fatty said nothing. He was making no promises. He had a kind of feeling that it would be good for Mr. Goon’s nephew to be led into something if he was as simple and innocent as the policeman made out. Anyway, all this was just to make sure that the Five Find-Outers didn’t solve another mystery before Mr. Goon did! Fatty could see through that all right!

Mr. Goon, not feeling very satisfied, departed ponderously down the garden-path, annoyed to find that his bicycle had suddenly developed a puncture in the front tyre. It couldn’t possibly have been anything to do with That Boy, who had been in the room all the time - but Mr. Goon thought it was a very queer thing the way unpleasant things happened to him when he was up against Frederick Algernon Trotteville!

The Five Find-Outers met at Fatty’s the next day. Buster gave every one a hilarious welcome. “Now!” he barked. “We are all together again. That’s what I like best.”