Enid Blyton - Mystery #03 — The Mystery of the Secret Room

They tore up the road. They raced up the hill and over it. Pip made for open country, thinking that he might be able to get behind a hedge and let Mr. Goon go lumbering by in the mist.

He came to a gateway, and remembered that it led up the drive to an old empty house. No one had lived there for ages and ages. It belonged to somebody who seemed to have forgotten all about it!

He tore into the drive, hoping that Mr. Goon would go on without seeing him. But the policeman was not to be put off so easily. He tore up the drive too.

Pip fled round the old house, and came into a tangled, untidy garden, with many trees standing about. He spotted one that seemed easy to climb, and in a trice had shinned up it, just before Mr. Goon came round the corner, puffing like a goods train.

Pip sat high up in the tree, as silent as could be. There were no leaves on it and if Mr. Goon looked up he was lost! He watched the policeman go all over the garden, and took the chance of climbing up still farther, so that more branches hid him from Mr. Goon. He was almost at the top of the tree now, level with the highest storey of the house. He watched Mr. Goon, hardly daring to breathe.

“Jolly good thing this is an empty house,” thought Pip, “else the people would all be coming out to see what the matter is - and I’d be spotted.”

He crouched against the trunk of the tree, level with a window. He looked at it, and saw to his surprise that it was barred.

“Must have been a nursery window at one time, I suppose,” he thought. “Jolly strong bars though.”

Then he glanced in at the window - and he almost fell out of the tree with shock!

The room inside was not empty. It was fully furnished!

Pip couldn’t understand it. If the house was empty, how could a room on the top storey be furnished? People didn’t move away and forget all about one room!

“Golly! - I wonder if this is the old empty house after all,” thought Pip. “Perhaps in the fog I’ve run in at a different gate. Maybe the house is lived in, and all the rooms are furnished. I wish old Clear-Orf would go, then I could have a look round.”

Clear-Orf was hunting everywhere. The garden was well hedged in, and no one could squeeze out of the sides. Then where had that queer fellow gone? It was a real puzzle to the policeman. It never once occurred to him to look up into any of the trees.

At last he gave it up. His prey had escaped him - but next time - ah, next time he saw any one with those awful teeth, he’d get them! There was something funny about two people having the same sticking-out teeth.

“I never did see teeth that stuck out so,” thought the defeated Mr. Goon, as he made his way round the side of the house and walked to the front gate. “That Frenchy fellow had them, and so had this one I’m after now. Wish I could have caught him. I’d have asked him a few straight questions, I would!”

Pip was very thankful to see him go. He waited till the policeman had disappeared round the house, and then he cautiously slid along a branch to the window, in order to get a better look inside.

There was no doubt about it at all. The room had plenty of furniture in it - a couch that was big enough for a bed, an arm-chair, two smaller chairs, a table, a book case with books in, a carpet on the floor. It was all most extraordinary.

“There’s an electric fire there too,” said Pip to himself. “But there’s no one there - and judging by the dust everywhere, there hasn’t been any one for some time. I wonder who the house belongs to.”

He looked at the bars on the window. No one could possibly get in or out of the window, that was certain. The bars were as close together as most nursery-window bars are - not even a child could slip between them.

Pip climbed cautiously down the tree, keeping a sharp look-out in case Mr. Goon was lurking somewhere. But that puzzled man had gone back to the village, comforting himself with the thought that though he had lost the boy with the teeth and eyebrows, he had at least got his mackintosh! Wait till he saw if there was a name inside!

Pip felt cold without his mackintosh. He thought ruefully of how he could explain its loss to his mother. Perhaps she wouldn’t notice it was gone. On the other hand, mothers invariably noticed anything like that almost immediately.

The fog was now getting very thick. Pip would have liked to stay and snoop round a bit, but he was afraid of getting lost if the fog grew much thicker. So he contented himself with making quite sure that the house was indeed the empty one he knew.

It was. There was no doubt about it - and the rooms on the ground floor were perfectly empty. On the gate was the name Pip had seen before - Milton House.

“It’s a mystery!” said Pip, as he plodded back in the fog. “A real mystery.” Then he stopped suddenly and hugged himself. “This might be our third mystery! We shall have to solve it somehow. There’s something very queer going on in that old empty house!”

Pip made his way back to Fatty’s house, where the others were waiting for him to report on anything that had happened. Fatty had what he called a “den” - a small crowded room, full of books, games, sports things, and a cosy basket for Buster. The fog clung round Pip and made him feel damp and cold.

He was shivering when at last he went in at the side-door of Fatty’s house. He listened to see it any one was about, because he was not anxious to bump into the maid or Mrs. Trotteville in his present disguise.

He heard nothing, and made his way up the stairs. The others were playing a card-game on the floor. They looked up when Pip came in.

“Oh - here’s Pip!” said Bets, pleased, and Buster went to greet him as if he had not seen him for weeks. “Did you do anything exciting, Pip?”

“I should jolly well think I did!” said Pip, his eyes shining. He got as close to the fire as he could. “And what’s more, Find-Outers - I believe I’ve got our third mystery for you!”

They all stared at him in delight and surprise. Bets jumped up. “Tell us, quick! What do you mean? What is the mystery?”

“I’ll tell you it all from the beginning,” said Pip. “Golly, I’m cold!”

“Where’s your coat?” said Daisy, seeing how cold Pip was.

“Old Clear-Orf has got it!” said Pip. “Sickening, isn’t it?”

“Clear-Orf! But how did he get it?” said Fatty. “Was your name in it?”

“Do you remember if it was, Bets?” asked Pip, turning to his little sister.

“No, it wasn’t,” said Bets. “So Clear-Orf won’t know whose it was - unless he goes round asking our parents if one of us has lost a mack!”

“Don’t worry,” said Fatty. “My old mack is almost exactly like Pip’s. I’ve got a new one. Pip can take mine, then if Clear-Orf goes round asking our parents if we’ve lost one, Pip can produce mine.”

“Thanks, Fatty,” said Pip relieved. “You always come to the rescue. Well - let me tell my story.”

He began, and the children giggled to hear how poor old Miss Frost got such a fright to see the fierce eyebrows, red face, and awful teeth just round the corner - and roared when Pip described what a dance he had led Mr. Goon in the fog.

“Fancy him not looking up into the trees,” said Fatty. “He’ll never make a detective! But you haven’t come to the mystery yet, Pip - what is it?”

“Well,” said Pip importantly, “as you all know, Milton House is empty - has been empty for ages, hasn’t it?”

The others nodded. They all knew the house quite well.

“All right,” said Pip, “well listen to this. One of the rooms at the very top of the house is fully furnished!”

Every one stared in amazement.