Mystery of the Burnt Cottage - Blyton Enid (читать книги онлайн бесплатно полные версии .txt) 📗

Fatty laughed scornfully. The others looked at Mm. "What's the joke?" asked Larry coldly.

"Oh, nothing," said Fatty. "It just made me laugh a bit when I thought of you hunting for footprints in Mr. Hick's garden. There can't be less than about a million, I should think — with all the people who were there watching the fire last night."

Larry went red. He glared at Fatty's round face, and Fatty grinned back.

"The man who started the fire might have been hiding in the hedge or somewhere, wailing for his chance," said Larry. "Nobody went into the hedge last night. We might find footprints there, mightn't we? In the ditch, where it's muddy?"

"Yes, we might," said Fatty. "But it's no good looking for footprints leading to the cottage! Mine are there, and yours, and old Clear-Orf's, and a hundred others,"

"I vote we don't let Clear-Orf know we are solving the mystery," said Pip.

"It's his mystery!" said Daisy. "He's as pleased as a dog with two tails because he's got a real crime to solve."

"Well, we'll keep out of Clear-Orf s way," said Larry. "Won't he look silly when we tell him who really did do it! Because I'm sure we shall find out, you know, if we all work together and try hard."

"What shall we do for a beginning?" asked Pip, who was longing to do something.

"We must look for clues. We must find out more about the tramp in the torn mackintosh and old hat that Fatty saw," said Larry. "We must find out if anyone has a spite against Mr. Hick. We must find out if anyone had the chance of getting into the workroom that day, to fire it."

"It wouldn't be a bad idea to talk to Mrs. Minns, the cook," said Daisy. "She would know if anyone had been about that day. And hasn't Mr. Hick got another manservant besides his chauffeur?"

"Yes, he's got a valet, but I don't know his name," said Larry. "We'll find out about him too. Golly., we've got a lot to do."

"Let's all go and look for glues first," said Bets, who quite thought she would find all kinds of things round and about the burnt cottage, which would tell at once who the wrong-doer might be.

"Right," said Larry, who rather wanted to hunt for clues himself. "Now, listen — we may be turned off if anyone sees us poking about at the bottom of Mr. Hick's garden. So I shall drop a shilling somewhere, and if we are questioned I shall say I've dropped a shilling, and then they'll think we are looking for it. It'll be quite true — I shall drop a shilling!"

"All right," said Pip, getting up. "Come on. Let's go now — and after that I should think the next thing to do is for one of us to go and have a talk with Mrs. Minns. I bet she'll be glad enough to jabber about everything. We might learn a lot of useful things from her."

Buster leapt down from Larry's knee, his tail wagging. "I believe he understood every word!" said Bets. "He's just as keen to look for glues as we are!"

"You and your glues!" said Larry, laughing. "Come on, Find-Outers! This is going to be exciting!"

Clues and — Clear-orf!

The five children and Buster made their way down the drive and into the lane. They passed Mr. Hick's house, and went on down the winding lane until they came to where the cottage had been burnt down. There was a tiny wooden gate that opened on to an over-grown path leading to the cottage. The children planned to go down that, because then, they hoped, nobody would see them.

There was a horrid smell of smoke and burning still on the air. It was a still April day, very sunny and warm. Celandines lay in golden sheets everywhere.

The children opened the wooden gate and went up the overgrown path. There stood what was left of the workroom, a ruined, blackened heap. It had been a very small cottage, once two-roomed, but the dividing wall had been taken down by Mr. Hick, and then there had been one big room suitable for him to work in.

"Now," said Larry, half-whispering. "We've got to look about and see if we can find anything to help us."

It was plainly no use to look about where all the watchers had been the night before. The garden was completely trampled down just there, and the criss-cross of footprints was everywhere. The children separated, and very solemnly began to hunt about alongside the overgrown path to the cottage, and in the tall hedges that overhung the ditches at the bottom of the garden.

Buster looked too, but as he had a firm idea that every one was hunting for rabbits, he put his nose down each rabbit hole, and scraped violently and hopefully. It always seemed to him a great pity that rabbits didn't make their holes big enough for dogs. How easy, then, to chase a scampering bunny!

"Look at Buster hunting for clues," said Pip, with a giggle.

The children looked for footprints. There were none on the path, which was made of cinders, and showed no footmarks at all, of course. They looked about in the celandines that grew in their hundreds beside the path. But there was nothing to be seen there either.

Pip wandered off to a ditch over which hung a drooping hedge of bramble and wild rose. And there he found something! He gave a low and excited call to the others.

"Here! I say, come here! I've found something!"

At once everyone crowded over to him. Buster too. His nose quivering. "What is it?" said Larry.

Pip pointed into the muddy ditch beside him. Nettles grew there, and they were trampled down. It was plain that someone had stood there in the ditch — and the only reason for standing in nettles in a muddy ditch was to hide!

"But that's not all!" said Pip, excited. "Look — here's where the person came in and went out!"

He pointed to the hedge behind, and the children saw a gap there, with broken and bent sprays and twigs, showing where some one had forced His way in and out.

"Oooh," said Daisy, her eyes very wide. "Is this a clue, Larry?"

"A very big one," said Larry, pleased. "Pip, have you seen any footprints?"

Pip shook his head. "The man who hid here seemed to tread on the nettles all the time," he said. "Look, you can see where he went — keeping in the ditch. See where the nettles are broken down."

The children cautiously followed the broken-down patches of nettles. The ditch curved round to the back of the cottage — but there, unfortunately, so many people had trampled the night before, that it was impossible to pick out any footsteps and say, "Those are the man's!"

"Well, look here, although we can't find any footsteps in the garden that belong to the hiding man, we might be able to find some on the other side of the hedge," said Fatty. "What about us all squeezing through that gap where the man got in and out, and seeing if we can spy anything the other side."

They all scrambled through the hole in the hedge. Fatty was the last. His eye caught sight of something as he squeezed through. It was a bit of grey flannel, caught on a thorn.

He gave a low whistle and clutched at Larry, who was just in front of him. He pointed to the scrap of flannel.

"The man tore his coat as he got through this gap," he said."See that? My word, we are getting on! We know that he wore a grey flannel suit now!"

Larry carefully took off the scrap of grey rag from the thorn. He put it into a match-box, wishing that he, and not Fatty, had noticed it.

"Good for you!" he said. "Yes — that may be a very valuable clue."

"Has Fatty found a glue?" asked Bets., in excitement. Every one crowded round to hear what Fatty had discovered. Larry opened the match-box and showed the bit of grey flannel.

"Now we've only got to find some one who wears a suit of grey flannel, a bit torn somewhere, and we've got the man!" said Daisy, pleased.

"I think we're much cleverer than Clear-Orf," said Pip.

"I've got awfully sharp eyes, you know," said Fatty, feeling tremendously pleased with himself. "Fancy, no one but me saw that! I really have got brains."