Mystery of the Strange Messages (13 page)

Fatty got up and kissed his mother. "I
knew
you'd
think of something. Mother," he said. "You always do. I'm glad I own
a mother like you!"

"Well, Frederick—what a nice thing to say!" said Mrs. Trotteville,
pleased. "I only wish the old lady had come here tonight. I don't like to
think of her there in that big empty house, all alone."

"Oh, Ern's staying there to look after her," said Fatty.
"He's going to read old Mrs. Smith his poetry. Ern will have a very
pleasant night. Mother!"

But he was wrong! Ern didn't have a pleasant night at all. Quite
the opposite. Ern had a very disturbed night indeed!

Fatty has a Plan.

"Fatty, you won't forget that you promised to fetch jumble
for me from one or two of my friends, will you, for the Sale next week,"
said Mrs. Trotteville next day at breakfast. "I told you I'd borrowed a
hand-cart for you to fetch it, didn't I?"

"Oh yes—I
had
forgotten," said Fatty. "But
I'll do it, of course. You just give me the addresses and I'll see if

on

I've time to go today. I'm just off down to Fairlin Hall now to
get old Mrs. Smith up here. I should think she could leave her bits and pieces
of furniture down there, couldn't she. Mother? Just till she knows when her
husband's coming out of hospital, and where they're going?"

"I don't see why not," said Mrs. Trotteville. "If
old Mrs. Hasterley gave her the job of caretaking, that fat policeman has no
right to turn her furniture out. If he does, tell me. I'll go and see him about
it."

"Gosh—I'd like to be at the interview," said Fatty,
longingly. "Are you afraid of
anyone.
Mother?"

"Don't be silly. Frederick," said Mrs. Trotteville.
"I'm certainly not afraid of Mr. Goon. Get a taxi for old Mrs. Smith, and
bring her up here in it with her bags. Leave all the other stuff behind and
lock the door. I could perhaps write to old Mrs. Hasterley. and tell her what's
happened."

"Right," said Fatty, and got up. "I'll just phone
for a taxi now—and tell the man to arrive at Fairlin Hall in an hour's time.
That will give me time to scoot down and make sure she's ready."

"I've told Cook about her," said his mother. "And she's
going to put up a bed in her room for her. Now
don't
forget about my jumble, Frederick. I've given you the
addresses."

"Yes. I've got them in my pocket," said Fatty. He went
out of the room and telephoned for the taxi and then fetched his bicycle. He
debated whether or not to telephone to Larry and the others, to tell them the
latest news, but decided he hadn't time.

He was soon cycling down to Fairlin Hall. It was a frosty morning
and rather slippery, so he was careful as he rode round the corners. He hoped
Goon was out on
his
bicycle too, "slipping about all over the
place!" thought Fatty. "Serve him right if he fell on that big nose
of his. Scaring those poor Smiths out of their lives!"

He rang his bicycle bell as he went down the drive, with Buster
panting after him. He was most surprised to find the kitchen door locked when
he tried to open it. Surely Ern and Mrs. Smith were up! He banged loudly on it.

Ern's face peeped cautiously from behind the window curtain,
making Fatty feel still more astonished! "Come on. Ern—open the
door!" he shouted. Almost at once he heard the key turned and the door
opened. Ern stood there, looking pleased.

"Coo. Fatty—I'm glad you've come!" he said. "We've
had such a night!"

"Whatever do you mean?" asked Fatty, surprised.
"What happened?"

"Well—footsteps round the place. And someone trying to open
the kitchen door. And noises, and people on the balcony, and goodness knows
what," said Ern. "I was real scared. So was old Mrs. Smith. Good
thing I stayed to look after her."

Fatty walked into the warm little kitchen. "Good morning.
Mrs. Smith," he said, "I'm sorry you had a disturbed night."

"It was those burglars again," she said. "My old
man and me, we've often heard them trying to get in. Once they did get in, too,
over one of the balconies—but there's nothing to steal in this empty old place.
All they took was a mirror off one of the walls in the dining-room! I was glad
of Ern here, last night, I can tell you. Real brave he was."

"They did all they could to get in," said Ern.
"Mrs. Smith says the house is pretty well burglar-proof now—except the
kitchen part, but as she and Mr. Smith were living in these few rooms, the
burglars avoided them. Not last night, though!
Look,
they broke this
window—but they couldn't undo the catch!"

"Good thing you were here, Ern, or they might have bashed the
door in, and wrecked the place," said Fatty.

"Perhaps it was tramps looking for shelter. It was a cold,
bitter night."

"They went when I shouted," said Ern, proudly. "And
I pretended there was a dog here, didn't I, Mrs. Smith? You should have heard
me yapping. Like this!" And Ern broke into such realistic yaps that Buster
looked at him, startled, and then began to bark himself.

"That was a jolly good idea, Ern, to pretend there was a dog
here," said Fatty, and Ern beamed. "Well, Mrs. Smith, do you think
you could get your bits and pieces together? My mother says she would be very
glad if you could come and help her with her new curtains—you said you could
sew, didn't you? We've put up a bed for you already."

"I never knew there were such kind folk in the world,"
said Mrs. Smith. "Never. I've packed already, sir. I can't do anything
about my furniture. It'll have to stay here till I can send someone for it. I
don't think Mrs. Hasterley will mind. I'd be glad to help your mother—if she's
anything like you. it'll be a pleasure to work for her. I'll be able to see my
old man, won't I. though?"

"Oh yes—the Cottage Hospital is quite near," said Fatty.
"You'll be able to go every day. My mother will ring up the hospital when
you arrive, and get the nurse to tell you how Mr. Smith is."

"Such kindness!" said the old lady, overcome. "And
this boy Ern here—he was such a comfort last night. And the poetry he read me!
Well, I reckon he's a genius, I do really."

Ern blushed. He knew he was no genius, but it was very very
pleasant to be thought one! He helped Mrs. Smith out with her things, ready for
the taxi. "You go with Mrs. Smith in the taxi, Ern." said Fatty.
"I've got my bicycle and Buster. Go down to my shed and wait for me, when
you get there. You'll find some biscuits in the tin."

"Oooh. thanks, Fatty," said Ern. He had been afraid

that he would be sent home. Perhaps he would have yet one more day
with Fatty?

The taxi came, and Ern put all Mrs. Smith's things into it. He
helped her in and then climbed in himself. He felt rather important.
"First time I've been in a taxi!" he said. "Loveaduck, I'm
getting grand!"

"I'll lock the back door and take the key," said Fatty.
"I'd better return it to the house agent and I'll warn them that burglars
came again."

He went back into the kitchen. It still had the Smiths' things
there—rather poor bits of furniture, a carpet, worn and old, the curtains.
"They could really go on a hand-cart," thought Fatty, and suddenly remembered
that he had promised his mother to fetch her jumble.

He locked the door and walked to where he had left his bicycle.
Then he and Buster went to the front gate. A man was standing there, hands in
pocket. Buster barked at him and he kicked out.

Fatty felt rather suspicious. Why should the man be hanging about
outside an empty house? Was he one of the men who had tried to break in the
night before? Had he watched Mrs. Smith and Ern leaving in a taxi? Fatty rode
off to the House Agent's, wondering.

He walked into the office and was relieved to find that the young
and conceited Mr. Paul was not there. Only the older man was present, sitting
in his corner. He recognized Fatty at once and smiled.

"I've brought you the back-door key of Fairlin Hall,"
said Fatty. "There were caretakers there, as you probably know, and
they've left. Their furniture is still there, though."

"Well, that's nice of you," said the old clerk.
"But you'd better keep the key in case the Smiths want to fetch their
things. Were they given notice, or something? We haven't heard anything from
Mrs. Hasterley."

"Er—Mr. Smith fell ill and has gone to hospital." said
Fatty, thinking that was the best thing to say. "And by the way, burglars
tried to break in there again last night."

The old clerk tut-tutted, and shook his head. "Bound to get
tramps and rogues trying to get in, when a house has stood empty for
years," he said. "We've tried to make it burglar proof—but what it
wants is people Living in it, filling the house! By the way. it's a funny
thing—but some people came in to enquire about it this morning. Two men. Said
they might like to buy it for a boys' prep school."

"Did you give them keys?" asked Fatty, at once.

"Yes. And I told them that a couple of old folk were there,
caretaking," said the man. "I didn't know they'd gone."

Mr. Paul arrived at that moment and Fatty at once went, in case
the old fellow should be admonished for wasting his time talking to him again!
Fatty was very thoughtful as he rode home. People enquiring about Fairlin
Hall—so soon after the Smiths had gone? Could it be someone who had tried to
force a way in last night—and now, knowing that the house had no caretakers,
had got the keys so that they would have the house to themselves? But what was
the point of that?

"I rather think I'd better keep some kind of watch on Fairlin
Hall," thought Fatty, and at once his mind flew to a possible disguise.
How could he watch the house without anyone guessing?

"Of course!" he said, aloud, making the panting Buster
look up at him in surprise. "Of course! I'll be a rag-and-bone man! I'll
get that hand-cart, and go and collect jumble! And I'll park my cart outside
Fairlin Hall, and keep my eye on anyone going in and out!"

He cycled even more quickly and went down the drive to his own
house at top speed, almost running down the baker. He went straight to his
shed, and found Ern there, patiently waiting.

"Ern, I'm going to disguise myself," said Fatty.
"Look, you go up to the house and telephone the others. Tell them to come
here at once, if they can. I'll talk to them while I'm disguising myself."

"Right," said Ern, thrilled, and sped off to telephone.
He wasn't very sure about it, because he had rarely used the telephone—but Mrs.
Trotteville, amused by Ern's serious face, got the numbers for him, and he
delivered his message faithfully, saying every word so distinctly that it
sounded as if he were reciting!

Meantime Fatty was swiftly disguising himself. "Dirty old
rag-and-bone man," he thought. "Those old corduroy trousers. That
torn shirt. No tie. Scarf round my neck—that filthy white one will do. Awful
old boots, now where did I put them? A cap—and that frightful overcoat I found
left behind a hedge one day!"

He got out his make-up box, and in ten minutes had transformed
himself from a boy in his teens, to a wrinkled, dirty, slouching fellow, with
protruding teeth, shaggy eyebrows and a ragged moustache

Ern watched in unbounded admiration "Loveaduck'" he kept
saying "Loveaduck, Fatty! How do you do it? You are a one, you are! My
word, my uncle will chase you out of Peterswood, if he sees you!"

Fatty laughed "Here come the others," he said, as Buster
barked "Let them in!" And in they all trooped—to stop in astonishment
at the sight of the dirty old rag-and-bone man

"Fatty'"
squealed Bets 'It's you! Fatty, you look
awful!
What are you going to do? Quick, tell us! What's up'' Has something
happened?"

Rag-a-Bones! Rag-a-Bones!

Everyone crowded round the dirty old rag-and-bone man, thrilled
How did Fatty do it'; Except for his twinkling eyes and too-clean hands nobody
would know he was anything but what he looked!

"Your hands—and your nails, Fatty," said Bets.
"Don't forget those."

"Go and fill this plant pot with some wettish earth.
Bets," said Fatty, re-tying his filthy neck-scarf. "I think our
gardener's out there, and if he sees me he'll chase me off the premises."

Bets rushed out with the pot and a trowel and filled it with damp
earth. Fatty put his hands into it and made them really dirty. The dirt got
into his nails too.

"You look simply frightful," said Larry. "And you
smell a bit. Fatty. Must be that horrible overcoat."

"Yes It does smell," said Fatty, smiling at a sleeve.
"Still, it's all in a good cause, as Mother would say. Listen, and I'll
tell you quickly what's happened this morning and yesterday."

He swiftly outlined all the events, and Ern nodded in approval.
That was the way to tell things—no "ers" or "urns", or stammerings—but
everything set out absolutely clearly Lovely to listen to' Everyone sat
enthralled as Fatty related his tale at top speed.

"There's a few things I
can't
understand,"
finished Fatty, "and one is why the writer of those 'ominous' notes as Mrs.
Hicks calls them, is so set on getting old Smith out—I suppose he's got some
kind of spite against him—and the other is how on earth do those notes get put
all over the place at old Goon's without anyone seeing them!'"