Mystery of the Pantomime Cat (2 page)

"And old Clear-Orf came along and wanted to see your
licence," chuckled Daisy. "But you had so many petticoats on that you
pretended you couldn't find it."

"And Bets spotted it was you because she suddenly saw you had
clean finger-nails and filthy dirty hands," said Larry, remembering.
"And that made her suspicious. I always thought that was smart of
Bets."

"You're making me feel I must disguise myself at once!"
said Fatty, with a grin. "What about playing a little joke on P.C. Pippin?
What a lovely name!"

"Yes—and it suits him," said Bets. "He's got a sort
of apple-cheeked face—a nice round ripe pippin."

Every one roared. "You tell him that," said Pip.
"Go up to him and say. 'Dear nice round ripe pippin.' He'll be
so
surprised."

"Don't be silly," said Bets. "As if I would! I
quite liked him."

"I wish something would turn up whilst Goon is away,"
said Fatty. "Wouldn't he be wild to miss a mystery! And I bet we could
help Pippin beautifully. He'd
like
our help, I expect. He doesn't look
awfully clever—actually he might not be so good at snooping

about as Goon, because Goon's had a lot of experience, and he's
older—Pippin looks rather young. I bet we could tackle a mystery better than he
could. We've solved a lot now. Six, in fact!”

"We can't possibly expect a mystery
every
hols."
said Larry.

"Let's make up one for P.C. Pippin," said Bets,
suddenly. "Just a teeny-weeny one! With clues and things. He'd get awfully
excited about it."

The others stared at her. Fatty gave a sudden grin. "I say!
That's rather an idea of Bets, isn't it? Larry's right when he says we can't
possibly expect a mystery every hols, and somehow I don't feel one will turn up
in the next three weeks. So we'll concoct one—for that nice round ripe Pippin
to solve!"

Every one began to feel excited. It was something to plan and look
forward to.

"I bet he'll make a whole lot of notes, and be proud to show
them to Goon," said Larry. "And I bet Goon will smell a rat and know
it's us. What a swizz for them!"

"Now this is really very interesting," said Fatty,
pleased. "It will be a nice little job for Pippin to use his brains on,
it'll be some fun for us, and it will be
most
annoying for Goon when he
comes back—because I bet he's warned Pippin about us. And all he'll find is that
Pippin has wasted his time on a Pretend mystery!"

"What mystery shall we make up?" said Bets, pleased that
her idea was so popular with the others. "Let's think of a really good
one—that Fatty can use disguises for. I love it when Fatty disguises himself."

"Let's all think hard," said Fatty. "We want to
Rouse Suspicions, first of all—do something that will make P.C. Pippin think
there's something up, you

know—so that he will nose about—and find a few little Clues…”

"That we put ready for him," said Bets, with a squeal of
laughter. "Oh
yes!
Oh, I
know
I shan't think of anything.
Hurry up, every one, and think hard."

There was silence for a few minutes. As Bets said, she could think
of no idea at all.

"Well—any one thought of anything?" asked Fatty.
"Daisy?"

"I
have
thought of something—but it's a bit
feeble," said Daisy. "What about sending Pippin a mysterious letter
through the post?"

"No good," said Fatty. "He'd suspect us at once.
Larry, have
you
thought of anything?"

"Well, what about mysterious noises in Pippin's back-garden
at night?" said Larry. "Very feeble, I know."

"It is a bit," said Fatty. "Doesn't lead to
anything. We want to do something that will really get Pippin worked up, make
him think he's on to something big."

"I can only think of something feeble too," said Pip.
"You know—hiding in a garden at night till Pippin comes by—and then
letting him hear us whisper—and then rushing off in the dark so that he
suspects we've been up to mischief."

"Now, there's something in
that,"
said Fatty,
thinking over it. "That really could lead on to something else. Let's see
now. I'll work it out."

Every one was respectfully silent. They looked at Fatty as he
pursed up his mouth and frowned. The Great Brains were working!

"I think I've got it," said Fatty, at last. "We'll
do this—I'll disguise myself as a ruffian of some kind—and I'll lend Larry a
disguise too. We'll find out what

Pippin's beat is at night—where he goes and what time—and Larry
and I will hide in the garden of some empty house till he comes by."

He paused to think, and then nodded his head. "Yes—and as
soon as we hear Pippin coming we'll begin to whisper loudly so that he'll hear
us and challenge us. Then we'll make a run for it as if we were scared of him
and didn't want to be seen."

"But where does all this lead to?" said Larry.

"You wait a bit and see," said Fatty, enjoying himself.
"Now, we'll escape all right—and what will Pippin do? He'll go into the
garden, of course, and shine his torch round—and he'll find a torn-up
note!"

"Oooh, yes," said Bets, thrilled. "What's in the
note?"

"The note will contain the name of some place for a further
meeting," said Fatty. "We'll think of somewhere good. And when our
nice round ripe Pippin arrives at the next meeting-place he'll find some lovely
Clues!"

"Which we'll have put there!" said Pip, grinning.
"Oh yes, Fatty—that's fine. We'll lead Pippin properly up the garden
path."

"The clues will lead somewhere else," said Fatty,
beaming. "In fact it will be a nice wild-goose-chase for Pippin. He'll
love it. And won't Goon's face be a picture when he hears about it all—he'll
know it's us all right."

"When can we do it? Oh, Fatty, let's begin it soon,"
begged Bets. "Can't you and Larry begin tonight?"

"No. We have to find out what Pippin's beat is first,"
said Fatty. "And we've got to spot an empty house on his beat. We'd better
stalk him tonight, Larry, and find out where he goes. Goon always used to set
off about half-past seven. Can you manage to come to my house by that time?"

"Yes, I think so," said Larry. "We have supper at
seven. I can gobble it down and be with you all right."

So it was decided that Larry and Fatty should stalk P.C. Pippin
that night and see exactly what his beat was, so that the next night they could
prepare their little surprise for him. Bets was thrilled. She loved an
adventure like this—it hadn't got the frightened excitement of a real mystery,
it was under their control, and nothing horrid could come out of it except
perhaps a scolding from Goon.

Larry was down at Fatty's house at
twenty-five past seven
that night. It was almost dark. They were
not disguised, as there was no time to dress Larry up. The two boys slipped out
of Fatty's house and made their way to the street in which Mr. Goon's house was.
P.C. Pippin had it now, of course.

The boys could hear the telephone trilling in Pippin's front room,
and they could hear him answering it. Then the receiver was put down, and the
light in the room went out.

"He's coming!" whispered Fatty. "Squash up more
into the bushes, Larry."

P.C. Pippin walked down to his front gate. He had rubbers on the
soles of his boots and he did not make much noise. The boys could just see him
as he turned up the street, away from them.

"Come on," whispered Fatty. "He's beginning his
beat. We'll see exactly where he goes."

They followed cautiously behind P.C. Pippin. The policeman went
down the High Street, and was very conscientious indeed about trying doors and
looking to see if the windows of the shops were fastened. The boys got rather
bored with so much fumbling and examining. Each time P.C. Pippin stopped they
had to stop too and hide somewhere.

After about an hour, P.C. Pippin moved off again, having decided
that no burglar could possibly enter any shop in the High Street that night,
anyway. He shut off his torch and turned into a side-street. The boys padded
after him.

Pippin went down the street softly, and then went to examine a
lock-up garage there. "Why doesn't he get on with his beat?" groaned
Larry, softly. "All this-stopping and starting!"

Pippin went on again. He appeared to have quite a systematic
method — going up one side of the road and down the other, and then into the
next road and. so on. If he did this every night, it would be easy to lie in
wait for him somewhere!

"It's nine o'clock." said Fatty, in a low voice, as he
heard the church clock strike loudly. "And we're in

"Good," said Larry, with relief. "I'm just about
tired of dodging round like this, and the wind's jolly cold too. Come on—let's
go home. Meet tomorrow morning at Pip's to tell the others what we've decided,
and make our plans."

"Right," said Fatty, who was also very glad that the
shadowing of P.C. Pippin was at an end. "See you tomorrow. Ssssst! Here
comes Pippin again."

They squeezed themselves into the hedge and were relieved when the
policeman's footsteps passed them.

"Gosh—I nearly sneezed then," whispered Larry.
"Come on — I'm frozen."

They went quietly home, Larry to tell Daisy, his

sister, that they had found a good place to hide the next night,
and Fatty to plan their disguises. He pulled out some old clothes and looked at
them. Aha, P.C. Pippin, he thought, there's a nice little surprise being
planned for you!

Two Ruffians—and P.C. Pippin.

The five children discussed their plan with great interest the
next day. Buster sat near them, ears cocked up, listening.

"Sorry, old thing, but I'm afraid you're not in this,"
said Fatty, patting the little Scottie. "You'll have to be tied up at
home. Can't have you careering after me, yapping at Pippin, when he comes by
our hiding-place."

"Woof," said Buster, mournfully, and lay down as if he
had no further interest in the subject.

"Poor Buster," said Bets, rubbing the sole of her shoe
along his back. "You hate to be left out, don't you? But this isn't a
real
mystery, Buster. It's only a pretend one."

The children decided that Larry and Fatty had better get into
their disguises at Larry's house, as it was near to the garden where they were
to hide. Then they could sprint back to Larry's without much bother.

"I'll bring the clothes along in a suitcase after tea,"
said Fatty. "Any chance of hiding the case anywhere in your garden, Larry?
In a shed or something. Grown-ups are always so suspicious of things like that.
If I arrive at your house complete with suitcase your mother's quite likely to
want to know what's in it."

"Yes. Well, there's the little shed halfway down the

garden," said Larry. "The one the gardener uses. I'll
join you there whatever time you say—and we might as well change into our
disguises there. Fatty. We'll be safe there. What are we going to wear?"

"Oh,
can
we come and see you getting into your
disguises?" said Bets, who didn't want to miss anything if she could help
it. "Do let's. Pip and I could slip out when we are supposed to be reading
after supper."

"Mother is going to the Little Theatre to see the show there
tonight," said Pip, remembering. "We'll be quite safe to come and see
you disguising yourselves."

So, at eight o'clock that night. Fatty, Larry. Daisy, Pip, and
Bets were all shut up in the little shed together. Fatty pinned a sack tightly
across the tiny window so that no light would show. Then he and Larry began to
disguise themselves.

"We'd better make ourselves pretty awful-looking," said
Fatty. "I bet Pippin will shine that torch of his on to us, and we'll let
him get a good look at our ruffianly faces. Here, Larry—you wear this frightful
moustache. And look, there's that red wig of mine—wear that too, under an old
cap. You'll look horrible."

Bets watched the two boys, fascinated. Fatty was extremely clever
at dressing up. He had many books on the art of disguising oneself, and there
wasn't much he didn't know about it! Also, he had a wonderful collection of
false eyebrows, moustaches, beards, and even sets of celluloid teeth that
fitted over his own teeth, and stuck out horribly.

He put on a ragged beard. He screwed up his face and applied black
grease-paint to his wrinkles. He stuck on a pair of shaggy eyebrows, which
immediately altered him beyond recognition. Bets gave a squeal.

"You're horrible. Fatty I I don't know you. I can't bear to
look at you."

"Well, don't then," said Fatty, with a grin that showed
black gaps in his front teeth. Bets stared in horror.