Free Mystery of Holly Lane by Enid Blyton Page A

they had actually gone to the bungalow garden to fetch something. Goon imagined that they had been out for a walk, and had heard the old man’s yells as they passed.
    “That’s all,” said Goon, at last. Fatty thought that he had asked the questions very well. He had left nothing out that might be useful.
    Goon looked at Fatty. “Er — I suppose you’ve got your own ideas about this already?” he said.
    “Oh, yes,” said Fatty. “I’ve no doubt it will be quite easy to find the robber. Didn’t the old man give you a list of the people who had been to visit him this morning?”
    “Well, he seemed so muddled,” said Goon. “He might have been remembering yesterday’s visitors. He’s old and forgetful. I wouldn’t be surprised if that money isn’t still there somewhere. Er — hm — what do you think about it all?”
    Fatty wasn’t going to give Goon any help at all. He remembered how Goon had given Bert half a crown to catch Buster. He got up suddenly, not wanting to look at the fat policeman any more.
    “Good morning,” he said to Goon, and showed him out very firmly. Let Goon find out what he could — Fatty didn’t mean to help him!
     
    Tea at Pip’s.
     
    The Five met that day in Pip’s playroom at half-past three. Mrs. Hilton had said they might all go to tea, and had sent Pip and Bets out to buy cakes from the baker’s.
    They had staggered in with baskets full, and had arranged all the goodies themselves on big dishes. They were set on the table, ready for tea.
    “Why do you put them under our noses like this?” groaned Daisy. “Look at those macaroons — all goey and luscious. What a frightful temptation.”
    “And look at that gingerbread cake — and that fruit cake,” said Larry. “We never seem to have such nice teas as you do, Pip.”
    “Oh, it’s only when people come to tea that Mother goes a splash like this,” said Pip. “Buster, you’ve got your favourite tit-bit — dog-biscuits spread with potted meat. Sniff!”
    Buster sniffed, shot out a pink tongue — and the biscuit disappeared with one crunch!
    “Oh, Buster! Manners, manners!” said Fatty. “You don’t see your master doing things like that, do you?”
    Everyone laughed. Pip got out some cards and shuffled them. Fatty told them of Goon’s visit to him that afternoon.
    “How you could bear to be polite to him when you knew he had planned to have Buster shot, I don’t know!” said Pip.
    “Well, I wasn’t awfully polite, actually,” admitted Fatty. “Also I was a bit afraid he’d ask why we were there. I wish to goodness you’d taken away that window-leather, Larry. I wouldn’t put it past old Goon to snoop round the garden and find it.”
    “Blow!” said Larry. “Mother keeps on asking about it I really must get it soon. I would have bought a new one, but when Daisy and I looked in the ironmonger’s shop this afternoon, the big ones were about fifteen shillings. Fifteen shillings! I call that wicked.”
    “I’ll get it from the bungalow garden for you,” said Fatty. “You mustn’t go bursting in at the garden gate in full daylight, and come out waving a window-leather! I’ll go tonight and get it, when it’s dark.”
    “I shouldn’t have gone in daylight anyhow,” said Larry, a little offended. “I’m not quite an idiot. But I’d be glad if you got it for me, actually, because it’s difficult for me to slip out at night. It’s easy for you — you can always say you’re taking Buster for a walk.”
    “I usually do take him for a run last thing at night,” said Fatty. “I’ll go tonight, and I’ll bring the leather here to you tomorrow.”
    “Are we going to go and see that old man again?” asked Daisy. “Are we going to treat this as a mystery — a rather small one, I know — and try to find out who the robber is, or are we going to let Goon get on with it, and not bother about it at all ourselves?”
    “Well, I don’t actually think there’s much mystery,” said Fatty.