Free Mystery of the Hidden House by Enid Blyton Page B

praise from Inspector Jenks. You’ve met him, haven’t you? He said he thought you were a fine boy, and might help me no end.”
    This wasn’t true at all. Inspector Jenks had hardly glanced at Ern, and if he had he certainly wouldn’t have said such nice things about him. Poor Ern didn’t shine in public at all, but looked very awkward and stupid.
    Ern was relieved to see that his uncle was going to be friendly after all. He watched him put away the cane. Lovaduck! That was a near squeak. All the same Ern was very much ashamed of giving away all that Fatty had told him. Now his uncle would solve the mystery himself, arrest all the men, and Fatty and the other Find-Outers wouldn’t have any fun.
    “Anything else you can tell me, Ern?” said Mr. Goon, putting on his enormous slippers.
    “No, Uncle,” said Ern, wishing he hadn’t got a pocketful of clues. He was glad he hadn’t tried to wipe his eyes with his own handkerchief - he might have pulled out a whole lot of clues with it!
    “What did you go up Christmas Hill this afternoon for?” asked Mr. Goon, lighting his pipe.
    “I told you. For a nice walk,” said Ern, looking sulky again. When would his uncle stop all this?
    Mr. Goon debated whether to go on cross-examining Ern or not. Perhaps not. He didn’t want to make the boy obstinate. When he was safely asleep in bed that night he would get Ern’s notebook out of his pocket and see if he had written anything down in it. Mr. Goon picked up the paper and settled down for a read. Ern heaved a sigh of relief, and wondered if he could slip out to see the others. It was about six o’clock now - but Ern felt that he simply must tell Fatty all about the clues.
    “Can I go out for a bit, Uncle?” he asked, timidly. “Just to slip round and have a talk with the others? They might have a bit of news for me.”
    “All right,” said Mr. Goon, turning a friendly face to Ern. “You go. And get all you can out of them and then tell me the latest news. See?”
    Ern lost no time. He pulled on his coat, took his cap and scarf and fled out of the house. He made his way to Pip’s, because he remembered that Fatty was going out to tea that day.
    He was lucky enough to find all the Find-Outers gathered together in Pip’s playroom, under strict instructions from Mrs. Hilton to take off their shoes if they wanted to play any games that meant running across the room. Fatty had just arrived, having dropped in on his way home with his mother, who was seeing Mrs. Hilton for a few minutes downstairs.
    “I say!” said Ern, bursting in suddenly. ‘I’ve got ten clues for you! What do you think of that for a good day’s work! I’ve got them all here!”
    “Lovaduck!” said Fatty. “Smazing! Simpossible! Swunderful! Let’s have a look, Ern, quick!”
     
    Ern’s Clues
     
    Ern pulled everything out of his pocket. When Bets saw all the things there that the Find-Outers had so carefully put on Christmas Hill for Ern to find, she wanted to giggle. But she saw Fatty’s eye on her, and she didn’t.
    “See?” said Ern, proudly. “Cigar-end. That means somebody with money. And look here - he smokes cigarettes too - see this empty packet? And look - we want to look for somebody with a brown coat. And…”
    “This is a very remarkable collection of clues, Ern,” said Fatty, solemnly. “I can see that Mr. Goon’s brains have been passed on to you. You take after him! A very remarkable afternoon’s work.”
    Ern was thrilled. Praise from Fatty was praise indeed. He showed every clue he had.
    “Course, some of them mayn’t be clues at all,” he admitted handsomely. “I see that.”
    “You’re right,” said Fatty. “You think of everything, Ern. This is all most interesting. It will help us tremendously.”
    “Will it really?” said Ern, delighted. Then his face clouded over. “I got something awful to tell you,” he said.
    “What?” asked everyone curiously.
    “I went and gave the game away to my uncle,” said Ern, dismally. “He took a cane out of the cupboard and I could