door was at the front, and so were the steps, of course. Gay curtains hung at the windows, and a line of bold carving ran round the edges of the out-jutting roof.
"They are old gypsy caravans painted and made really up to date," said Julian. "They're jolly comfortable inside too — bunks that fold down against the walls in the daytime — a little sink for washing-up, though we usually use the stream, because it's such a fag to fetch water — a small larder, cupboards and shelves — cork carpet on the floor with warm rugs so that no draught comes through.…"
"You sound as if you are trying to sell them to me!" said George, with a laugh. "You needn't! I love them both, and I think they're miles nicer than the modern caravans down there. Somehow these seem real !"
"Oh, the others are real enough," said Julian. "And they've got more space — but space doesn't matter to us because we shall live outside most of the time."
"Do we have a camp-fire?" asked George, eagerly. "Oh, yes — I see we do. There's the ashy patch where you had your fire. Oh, Julian, do let's have a fire there at night and sit round it in the darkness!"
"With midges biting us and bats flapping all round," said Dick. "Yes, certainly we will! Come inside, George."
"She's to come into my caravan first," said Anne, and pushed George up the steps. George was really delighted.
She was very happy to think she was going to have a peaceful two weeks here with her three cousins and Timmy. She pulled her bunk up and down to see how it worked. She opened the larder and cupboard doors.
Then she went to see the boys' caravan.
"How tidy !" she said, in surprise. "I expected Anne's to be tidy — but yours is just as spick and span. Oh dear — " I hope you haven't all turned over a new leaf and become models of neatness. I haven't!"
"Don't worry," said Dick, with a grin. "Anne has been at work — you know how she loves to put everything in its place. We don't need to worry about anything when she's about. Good old Anne!"
"All the same, George will have to help me," said Anne, firmly. "I don't expect boys to tidy up and cook and do things like that — but George ought to because she's a girl."
"If only I'd been born a boy!" groaned George. "All right Anne, I'll do my share — sometimes. I say — there won't be much room for Timmy on my bunk at nights, will there?"
"Well, he's not coming on mine," said Anne. "He can sleep on the floor on a rug. Can't you, Timmy?"
"Woof," said Timmy, without wagging his tail at all. He looked very disapproving.
"There you are — he says he wouldn't dream of doing such a thing!" said George. "He always sleeps on my feet."
They went outside again. It really was a lovely day. The primroses opened more and more of their little yellow flowers, and a blackbird suddenly burst into a fluting song on the bough of a hawthorn tree in the hedge nearby.
"Did anyone get a paper in the village?" asked Dick. "Oh, you did, Julian. Good. Let's have a look at the weather forecast. If it's good we might go for a long walk this afternoon. The sea is not really very far off."
Julian took the folded paper from his pocket and threw it over to Dick. He sat down on the steps of his caravan and opened it.
He was looking for the paragraph giving the weather forecast when headlines caught his eye. He gave an exclamation.
"Hallo! Here's a bit more about those two vanished scientists, Julian!"
"Oh!" said George, remembering Julian's telephone call of the night before. "Julian, whatever in the world made you think my father could be one of the vanished scientists?
As if he would ever be disloyal to his country and take his secrets anywhere else!"
"Oh, I didn't think that," said Julian, at once. "Of course I didn't! I'd never think Uncle Quentin would do a thing like that.
No—in yesterday's paper it just said that two of our most famous
scientists had disappeared—and I thought perhaps they had been
kidnapped. And as Uncle Quentin is
"They are old gypsy caravans painted and made really up to date," said Julian. "They're jolly comfortable inside too — bunks that fold down against the walls in the daytime — a little sink for washing-up, though we usually use the stream, because it's such a fag to fetch water — a small larder, cupboards and shelves — cork carpet on the floor with warm rugs so that no draught comes through.…"
"You sound as if you are trying to sell them to me!" said George, with a laugh. "You needn't! I love them both, and I think they're miles nicer than the modern caravans down there. Somehow these seem real !"
"Oh, the others are real enough," said Julian. "And they've got more space — but space doesn't matter to us because we shall live outside most of the time."
"Do we have a camp-fire?" asked George, eagerly. "Oh, yes — I see we do. There's the ashy patch where you had your fire. Oh, Julian, do let's have a fire there at night and sit round it in the darkness!"
"With midges biting us and bats flapping all round," said Dick. "Yes, certainly we will! Come inside, George."
"She's to come into my caravan first," said Anne, and pushed George up the steps. George was really delighted.
She was very happy to think she was going to have a peaceful two weeks here with her three cousins and Timmy. She pulled her bunk up and down to see how it worked. She opened the larder and cupboard doors.
Then she went to see the boys' caravan.
"How tidy !" she said, in surprise. "I expected Anne's to be tidy — but yours is just as spick and span. Oh dear — " I hope you haven't all turned over a new leaf and become models of neatness. I haven't!"
"Don't worry," said Dick, with a grin. "Anne has been at work — you know how she loves to put everything in its place. We don't need to worry about anything when she's about. Good old Anne!"
"All the same, George will have to help me," said Anne, firmly. "I don't expect boys to tidy up and cook and do things like that — but George ought to because she's a girl."
"If only I'd been born a boy!" groaned George. "All right Anne, I'll do my share — sometimes. I say — there won't be much room for Timmy on my bunk at nights, will there?"
"Well, he's not coming on mine," said Anne. "He can sleep on the floor on a rug. Can't you, Timmy?"
"Woof," said Timmy, without wagging his tail at all. He looked very disapproving.
"There you are — he says he wouldn't dream of doing such a thing!" said George. "He always sleeps on my feet."
They went outside again. It really was a lovely day. The primroses opened more and more of their little yellow flowers, and a blackbird suddenly burst into a fluting song on the bough of a hawthorn tree in the hedge nearby.
"Did anyone get a paper in the village?" asked Dick. "Oh, you did, Julian. Good. Let's have a look at the weather forecast. If it's good we might go for a long walk this afternoon. The sea is not really very far off."
Julian took the folded paper from his pocket and threw it over to Dick. He sat down on the steps of his caravan and opened it.
He was looking for the paragraph giving the weather forecast when headlines caught his eye. He gave an exclamation.
"Hallo! Here's a bit more about those two vanished scientists, Julian!"
"Oh!" said George, remembering Julian's telephone call of the night before. "Julian, whatever in the world made you think my father could be one of the vanished scientists?
As if he would ever be disloyal to his country and take his secrets anywhere else!"
"Oh, I didn't think that," said Julian, at once. "Of course I didn't! I'd never think Uncle Quentin would do a thing like that.
No—in yesterday's paper it just said that two of our most famous
scientists had disappeared—and I thought perhaps they had been
kidnapped. And as Uncle Quentin is
Similar Books
Burying the Sun
Gloria Whelan
Clearer in the Night
Rebecca Croteau
The Orkney Scroll
Lyn Hamilton
Cast the First Stone
Margaret Thornton
One Red Rose
Elizabeth Rose
Agent Provocateur
Faith Bleasdale
Foreigners
Caryl Phillips
Would-Be Wilderness Wife
Regina Scott
Miss in a Man's World
Anne Ashley