Enid Blyton - Mystery #04 — The Mystery of the Spiteful Letters

‘Well, you can’t,’ said Mrs. Hilton. ‘And please don’t start trying to find out things, Pip, because, as I’ve already told you, this is nothing whatever to do with you. You can take the other letters to the post for me. Go now and you will catch the ten o’clock post.’

Pip and Bets went off rather sulkily. Bets was near tears. ‘It’s too bad, Pip,’ she said, when they got out-of-doors, ‘we had such good ideas - and now they’re no use at all!’

‘We’ll post the letters and then go up and see Fatty,’ said Pip gloomily. ‘I expect he’ll think we ought to have done better. He always thinks he can do things so marvellously.’

‘Well, so he can,’ said Bets loyally. ‘Let me post the letters, Pip. Here’s the post office.’

‘Here you are then. What a baby you are to like posting letters still!’ said Pip. Bets slipped them into the letter-box and they turned to go up to Fatty’s house. He was at home, reading a new detective book.

‘Our ideas weren’t any good,’ said Pip. He told Fatty what had happened. Fatty was unexpectedly sympathetic.

‘That was hard luck,’ he said. ‘You both had jolly fine ideas, and it was only a bit of bad luck that stopped them having their reward. Now - who is it that is going to see Gladys today?’

‘Mother said it was a “he,” ’ said Pip. ‘She said, “Somebody’s going to see Gladys today, and he will take them!” ’

‘That’s easy then,’ said Fatty briskly. ‘He can only mean one person - and that’s old Clear-Orf! Well, now we know what to do.’

‘I don’t know,’ said Pip, still gloomy. ‘You always seem to know everything, Fatty.’

‘Brains, my dear fellow, brains!’ said Fatty. ‘Well, look here - if it’s Goon that’s going to see Gladys, we can wait about and follow him, can’t we? He’ll go on his bike, I expect - well, we can go on ours! Easy!’

Pip and Bets cheered up. The idea of stalking old Clear-Orf was a pleasing one. They would have the fun of doing that, and would find out too where Gladys lived. Yes, today looked much more exciting now.

‘You go and tell Larry and Daisy,’ said Fatty. ‘We shall have to keep a watch on old Goon’s house so that we know when he leaves. I vote we ask our mothers for food again, so that we can go off at any time and come back when we like.’

‘I’m going to buy Gladys some sweets,’ said Bets. ‘I like her.’

‘It would be a good idea if we all took her some little present,’ said Fatty thoughtfully. ‘Sort of show we were sorry for her and were on her side, so that she’ll be more willing to talk.’

‘Well, I’ll go and tell Larry and Daisy to get out their bikes and bring food along,’ said Pip. ‘I’d better hurry in case old Clear-Orf goes this morning. Bets, you’d better come back home with me too, and get your bike, because we’ll both need them. Then we’ll go to Larry’s and then we’ll buy some little things for Gladys.’

‘I’ll go and keep a watch on Goon’s house in case he starts off before you’re back,’ said Fatty. ‘I’ll just get some sandwiches first. See you round the corner from Goon’s!’

In about half an hour’s time Larry, Daisy, Bets, and Pip were all with Fatty, round the corner near Clear-Orf’s house, complete with sandwiches and little presents for Gladys. There had been no sign of Goon.

But in about ten minutes’ time, Larry, who was on guard, gave a whistle. That was the signal to say that Goon was departing somewhere. He was on his bicycle, a portly, clumsy figure with short legs ending in enormous boots that rested on pedals looking absurdly small.

He set off down the road that led to the river.

‘May be going across in the ferry!’ panted Fatty, pedalling furiously. ‘Come on! Don’t all tear round the corners together in case he spots us. I’ll always go first.’

But unfortunately all that Mr. Goon had gone to do down the river-lane was to leave a message with the farmer there. He saw the farmer in the field and called out the message to him, then quickly turned his bicycle round and cycled back up the lane again. He came round the corner very quickly and found himself wobbling in the middle of the Five Find-Outers!

He came off with a crash. The children jumped off and Fatty tried to help him up, whilst Buster, jumping delightedly out of Fatty’s basket, yelped in delight.

‘Hurt yourself, Mr. Goon?’ asked Fatty politely. ‘Here, let me give you a heave up.’

‘You let me alone! ’ said Mr. Goon angrily. ‘Riding five abreast like that in a narrow lane! What do you mean by it!’

‘So sorry, Mr. Goon,’ said Fatty. Pip gave a giggle. Old Clear-Orf looked so funny, trying to disentangle himself from his bicycle.

‘Yes, you laugh at me, you cheeky little toad!’ roared Mr. Goon. ‘I’ll tell of you, you see if I don’t. I’ll be seeing your Ma this morning and I’ll put in a complaint. I’m going right along there now.’

Fatty brushed Mr. Goon down so smartly that the policeman jumped aside. ‘You’re all dusty, Mr. Goon,’ said Fatty anxiously. ‘You can’t go to Mrs. Hilton’s in this state. Just a few more whacks and you’ll be all right!’

‘Wait till you get the whacks you want!’ said Mr. Goon, putting his helmet on firmly. ‘Never knew such children in me life! Nothing but trouble round every corner where you are! Gah!’

He rode off, leaving the children standing in the lane with their bicycles. ‘Well, that was a bit of a nuisance bumping into him like that,’ said Fatty.

‘I didn’t particularly want him to see any of us today. I don’t want him to suspect we’re on his track. Now let me see - he’s off to collect those things for Gladys from your mother, Pip. There’s no doubt about that. So all we’ve got to do now is to lie in wait for him somewhere and then follow him very carefully.’

‘Let’s go to the church corner,’ said Pip. ‘He’s sure to pass there, wherever he goes. Come on!’

So off they went, and hid behind some trees, waiting for old Clear-Orf to show them the way to where Gladys lived.

In about half an hour Mr. Goon came cycling along, and went right by the hidden children without seeing them.

‘Now listen!’ said Fatty. ‘It’s no use us all tearing after him in a bunch because we’d be so easy to spot. I’ll go first and keep a long way ahead. You follow, see? If I have to take a turning you may not know I’ll tear a sheet out of my notebook and drop it the way I go.’

‘It’s windy today. Better hop off your bike and chalk one of those arrows on the road that gypsies always seem to make,’ said Pip. ‘Your bit of paper might blow away. Got any chalk, Fatty?’

‘Of course!’ said Fatty and took a piece out of his capacious pockets. ‘Yes, that’s a better idea. Good for you, Pip! Well, I’ll get along in front of you now. Look, there goes old Clear-Orf panting up the hill in the distance. Looks as if he’s going to take the main road.’

Fatty rode off, whistling. The others waited a little while and then rode after him. It was easy to see him in the distance in the open country. But soon they came to where the road forked, and Fatty seemed nowhere in sight.

‘Here you are! Here’s his chalk arrow!’ said Daisy, her sharp eyes spotting it at once, marked on the path at the side of one of the roads. ‘This is the way!’

They rode on again. They rarely saw Fatty now, for he and Mr. Goon had left the main road and were cycling down narrow, winding lanes. But at every doubtful fork or corner they saw his chalk mark.

‘This is fun,’ said Bets, who liked looking for the little arrows. ‘But oh dear - I hope it’s not much farther!’