Mystery of the Burnt Cottage - Blyton Enid - Страница 10

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His astonishment at seeing the policeman kneeling in front of him was enormous. It was one thing to see a boy behaving like that, but quite another thing to see a policeman. The tramp leapt to His feet with a howl.

"First it's a boy bowing down to me and now it's a bobby!" he said, jamming his old hat down on his long grey hair. "What's it all about?"

"I want to see your shoes," said Clear-Orf.

"Well, see them, then! Look at them well, laces and all!" said the tramp, rapidly losing His temper.

"I want to see the soles," said the policeman stolidly.

"Are you a cobbler or a policeman?" asked the tramp. "Well — you show me the buttons on your shirt, and I'll show you the soles of my shoes!"

The policeman began to breathe very heavily, and his face got red. He snapped his notebook shut.

"You'd better come-alonga-me," he said. The tramp didn't think so. He skipped out of the way and began to run across the field, very nimbly indeed for an old fellow. Clear-Orf gave a roar, and turned to run after him.

And at that moment Fatty., excited beyond words, fell off the hay-rick, and landed with a thud on the ground below. He gave such an agonized yell that the policeman stopped in amazement.

"What's all this-ere?" he said, and glared at Fatty. Then he caught sight of the other children peering anxiously down from the top of the rick, afraid that Fatty had broken all his bones. He was most astonished.

"You come on down!" he roared. "Always children messing about! You wait till the farmer catches you! How long have you been there? What do you mean, spying like this?"

Fatty gave a frightful groan, and the policeman, torn between his desire to rash after the disappearing tramp, and to pull Fatty to his feet and shake him, went up to him.

"Don't touch me! I think I've broken my left leg and my right arm, dislocated both my shoulders and broken my appendix!" said Fatty, who sincerely believed that he was practically killed.

Bets gave a squeal of horror and jumped down to see what she could do to help poor Fatty. The others leapt down too, and Buster danced delightedly round Clear-Orf's ankles. The policeman kicked out at him.

"Clear-orf," he said. "Dogs and children! Always messing about and getting in the way. Now that fellow's gone, and I've missed a chance of questioning him!"

He waited to see if Fatty was really hurt. But, except for a good shaking, and some fine big bruises, Fatty was not hurt at all. His fat had kept him from breaking any bones!

As soon as the policeman saw the others helping Fatty up, brushing him down, and comforting him, he took a look round to see if he could make out where the tramp had gone. But he was nowhere to be seen. He turned to the five children.

"Now, clear-orf," he said. "And don't let me see you hanging round again."

Then, with great dignity, Mr. Goon made His way heavily to the path, and walked down it without turning his head once. The children looked at each other.

"We were getting on so well till Clear-Orf came," sighed Daisy. "I wonder where that tramp went to."

"I'm going home," said Fatty miserably. "I feel awful."

"I'll take you home," said Daisy. "You come too, Bets. Do you boys want to see if you can trace the tramp?"

"Yes," said Larry. "Might as well whilst we've got the chance. I don't wonder Fatty fell off the rick. It was pretty exciting, wasn't it?"

"Fancy old Clear-Orf having a drawing of that footprint in his notebook." said Pip thoughtfully. "He's smarter than I thought. Still — we've got something he hasn't got — a bit of grey flannel!"

Fatty, Daisy, Bets and Buster went off together. The other two set off in the direction the tramp had taken. They meant to find him again if they could!

Larry and Pip ran quickly in the direction the tramp had gone. It seemed silly that, although all the children had seen him, and Clear-Orf too, nobody had managed to find out what kind of soles his shoes had! There was no sign of the tramp at all. The boys met a farm labourer and hailed him.

"Hie! Have you seen an old tramp going this way?" "Yes. Into that wood," said the man, and pointed to a small copse of trees in the distance. The boys ran there, and looked about among the trees and tangled undergrowth.

They smelt the smoke of a fire, and their noses and eyes soon guided them to it. By it, on a fallen tree, sat the dirty old tramp, his hat of! now, showing his tangled, straggly hair. He was cooking something in a tin over the fire.

When he saw Larry he scowled. "What! You here again?" he said. "You get away. What do you mean, following me about like this? I haven't done nothing."

"Well," said Larry boldly, "you tried to steal eggs from Mr. Hick's hen-house the other day. We know that! But that's nothing to do with us."

"Mr. Hick! So that's his name," said the old tramp, sticking a skewer in whatever it was that he was cooking. "I didn't steal his eggs! I didn't steal nothing at all. I'm an honest old fellow, I am, and everybody will tell you the same!"

"Well — what were you doing hiding in the ditch at the bottom of his garden?" said Larry. The tramp looked astonished.

"I never hid in no ditch," he said. "I wasn't the one that did the hiding. Ho, dear me no! I could tell you something, I could — but I'm not going to. You put that policeman after me, didn't you?"

"No," said Larry. "He came along unexpectedly and went over to you. He didn't know we were anywhere about."

"Well, I don't believe you," said the old tramp. "You set that bobby after me. I know you did. I'm not going to be mixed up in anything that don't concern me. But there was funny goings-on that night, ho yes, I should think there were."

The old fellow suddenly groaned and rubbed his right foot. His big toe stuck out of the shoe, which was too small for him. He took the shoe off, showing a sock that was practically all holes, and rubbed his foot tenderly.

The boys looked at the shoe, which the tramp had thrown carelessly to one side. The sole was plainly to be seen. It was of leather, and so much worn that it could not possibly keep any damp out.

"No rubber sole!" whispered Larry to Pip. "So it couldn't have been the tramp hiding in the ditch. Anyway, I don't believe he knows a thing. And look at the old coat he's got under the mack — it's green with age, not grey!"

"What you whispering about?" said the tramp. "You get away. Can't I live in peace? I don't do no harm to nobody, I don't, but children and bobbies, they come after me like flies. You leave me alone. I'd be as merry as a blackbird if I had a pair of shoes that fitted me poor old feet. You got a pair of shoes that would fit me?"

"What size do you take?" asked Pip, thinking that perhaps he could get an old pair of his father's boots for the footsore old tramp. But the tramp didn't know. He had never bought a pair of shoes in his life.

"Well, if I can get an old pair of my father's boots, I'll bring them to you," said Pip. "Or better still, you come and get them. I live in the red house in the lane not far from Mr. Hick's house. You come there tomorrow, and I'll perhaps have got some boots for you."

"You'll set that bobby after me again if I come back," grumbled the tramp, taking out something peculiar from the tin, and beginning to eat it with his hands. "Or that Mr. Hick will. Well, he'd better be careful. I know a few things about Mr. Hick and his household, I do. Yes, I heard him shouting at quite a few people that day, besides me. Ho yes. There was funny goings on there, but I'm not mixed up in them, I tell you."

Larry looked at his watch. It was getting late. "We'll have to go," he said. "But you come along to Pip's house tomorrow, and you can tell us anything you want to. We shan't give you away."

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