Mystery of the Burnt Cottage - Blyton Enid - Страница 24

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The hide girl followed the footprints with Buster. He put his nose down to them and Mowed them too, though it was really the smell he was following, not the marks themselves. Along the muddy path theft went, and then crossed a road to the other side. Then up another footpath, where they showed quite plainly, and then into alley. Here they were not so easy to follow, but Buster's nose was most useful, for he could follow the smell, even where there was no footprint to be seen.

"You really are very clever, Buster," said Bets, in great admiration. "I wish my nose was like yours. Yes — that's right — that's another of the prints — and here's another — and another. Look — they're going to the stile."

So they were. It was plain that the owner of the prints had crossed the stile and jumped down on to the field beyond. Bets grew more and more excited.

"The prints are going the same way as the other prints did!" she said to Buster. "Look! Now, Buster, dear, use your nose well across this field because I can't see anything on the grass, of course."

Buster went across the field in a straight line, his black nose held close to the ground. He could smell exactly where the person had walked. Soon Bets came to a bare muddy bit and there she saw a footprint clearly outlined. "You are going the right way. Buster," she said. "Keep your nose down! Hurry! Maybe we shall find the person if we're quick! I believe these footprints have only just been made."

The footprints did not lead to the gap in the hedge. Instead they led over another stile and up the lane that led to Bets' own house. But at Mr. Hick's gate the prints turned and went up Mr. Hick's own drive!

Bets was amazed. So the man who fired the cottage had actually gone back to it today! She wondered if he had gone to the front door or the back door. She went up the muddy drive, her face down, watching the prints. They went right to the front door. Just as she got there the door opened and Mr. Hick appeared. He seemed astonished to see Bets.

"Well, what are you doing here?" he asked.

"Oh, Mr. Hick," gasped Bets, too excited to think that she might be giving away any of the Find-Outers' secrets. "I'm following these footprints., and they go right to your door. Oh, Mr. Hick, it's most awfully important to know who made them. Has any one been to see you today?"

Mr. Hick looked surprised, and he frowned at Bets and Buster. "I don't understand," he said. "Why is it so awfully important?"

"Well, if only I knew who made these footprints! Should be able to tell the others who fired your cottage the other evening," said Bets importantly.

Mr. Hick looked completely bewildered, and he stared very hard indeed at Bets. "You'd better come in," he said at last "This is very extraordinary. What is a child like you doing, following footprints — and how do you know anything about it? Come in. No — leave the dog outside."

"Let him come too," said Bets. "He'll be very, very good. He'll scratch your door down if you leave him outside."

So Buster went in too, and soon the three of them were sitting in Mr. Hick's study, which, like Mr. Smellie's, was littered with papers and books.

"Now," said Mr. Hick, trying to speak in a pleasant voice, which was very difficult for him. "Now, little girl, you tell me why you followed those footprints and what you know about them. It may be a help to me."

Bets, proud to have a grown-up listening to her so closely, poured out the whole story of the Find-Outers and what they had done. She told Mr. Hick about the clues and the Suspects, and he listened without saying a single word.

Buster made himself a perfect nuisance all the time. He would keep going over to Mr. Hick, sniffing at him, and trying to nibble his feet. Mr. Hick got most annoyed, but Buster wouldn't leave him alone. In the end Bets had to take him on her knee and keep him there.

When she had finished her story, right up to that very morning, she looked eagerly at Mr. Hick. "Now will you tell me who came here today? " she asked.

"Well.," said Mr. Hick slowly, "as it happens, two of your Suspects came here. Mr. Smellie came to borrow a book — and Horace Peeks came to ask me for a reference."

"Oh! So it might be either of them," said Bets. "I do wonder which of them wore the rubber-soled shoes with those markings. Well, anyway, now we know for certain it was one of those two. Mr. Hick, you won't tell a single soul what I've told you this morning, will you?"

"Certainly not," said Mr. Hick. "A lot of people seem to have been in my garden that day I went up to town, didn't they? Wait till I get my fingers on the one who played that dirty trick on me, and burnt all my valuable papers!"

"I'd better go now," said Bets. She stood up, and put Buster down. He immediately rushed to Mr. Hick and began to sniff at his trousers in a way that Mr. Hick thoroughly disliked. He kicked Buster away and the dog yelped.

"Oh, don’t" said Bets, dismayed. "You shouldn't kick a dog, Mr. Hick. That's cruel."

"You go now and take that dog with you," said Mr. Hick. "And my advice to you children is — don't meddle in things that concern grown-ups. Leave the police to do the finding out!"

"Oh, we must go on," said Bets. "After all, we are the Find-Outers!"

She went up the drive with Buster and saw the footprints once again. One row went up the drive and one row went down. How Bets wished she knew whether the prints had been made by Smellie or Peeks! She longed and longed for the others to come home. She could hardly wait to tell them her news. She wondered if they would mind her telling Mr. Hick all that she had told him. But, after all, it couldn't matter him knowing. He would do all he could to help them, Bets was sure — and he had faithfully promised not to tell any one at all.

The others came back after tea, tired and happy after a lovely day at Burnham Beeches. Fatty presented Bets with an enormous bunch of primroses.

Bets could not wait for one moment to tell them her news. She was simply bursting with it — but just as she was in the middle of it, there came a very nasty surprise!

Up the garden appeared Pip's mother, and with her was Clear-Orf, looking very smug and also very forbidding.

"Old Clear-Orf!" said Larry, in a low voice. "Whatever does he want?"

It was soon quite clear what he had come for! Pip's mother spoke to the children in a very stern voice.

"Children! Mr. Goon has come to me with a very extraordinary story of your doings in the last few days. I can hardly believe what he says!"

"What's the matter?" asked Pip, scowling at Clear-Orf.

"Pip, don't scowl like that," said his mother sharply. "Apparently all of you have been interfering in matters that concern the police. Even Bets! I simply cannot understand it. Mr. Goon even tells me that you and Frederick, Larry, got into Mr. Smellie's house last night. What will your mothers say? And even little Bets has been following footprints and imagining herself to be a detective!"

"Who told Mr. Goon that?" burst out Bets. "Nobody knows but me — and Mr. Hick!"

"Mr. Hick rang me up, and I have just been to see him," said Mr. Goon, speaking with great dignity. "He told me all your goings-on — interfering little busybodies!"

Bets burst into loud sobs. "Oh, Mr. Hick told me he wouldn't tell any one!" she wailed. "Oh, he did promise me faithfully! He's a wicked, wicked man! He's broken his faithful promise. I hate him!"

"Bets! Behave yourself!" said her mother.

"Of course, Bets would go and give everything away!" said Pip sulkily. "That's what comes of having her in the Find-Outers. Little idiot! She goes and tells everything to Mr. Hick, he rings up Clear-Orf, and now we're all in the soup!"

"What are you muttering about. Pip?" said his mother. "Who is Clear-Orf?"

"Mr. Goon," said Pip defiantly. "He's always telling us to clear-orf."

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