Mystery of Banshee Towers Read Free

the knocking-out - I tell you, it got boring!”
    “You’re boasting, Fatty,” said Larry. “Ha - you’ll never get rid of that habit! That’s one thing you do better than any of us - boast! You’re superlative at that!”
    “Don’t be rude, Larry!” said Daisy, shocked. “Why, Fatty might knock you out, if you talk like that!”
    “No, I shan’t.” said Fatty. “Larry’s quite right. I do boast just a bit. On the other hand, I do actually do what I boast about. I really did knock out my two cousins. I’ll show you the blow I used. You swing out like this with your left, and then - ooh, sorry. Buster! What on earth made you get in the way? Did I hurt you?”
    “Funny - you didn’t even knock him out,” said Larry irritatingly. Bets cuddled poor Buster, who had received a blow on his fat tummy that had quite winded him. He stared at Fatty unhappily, really puzzled.
    “Listen,” said Pip. “Let’s go exploring a bit these hols. My father made a list of interesting spots we could go to see. He said we shouldn’t just mess about doing nothing, he said…”
    “He said that - but what he really meant was that he didn’t want you under his feet all the time,” said Larry. “My father’s like that too - I mean, he’s an absolute sport, and I’m frightfully proud of him - and he is of me - but I do notice that after about ten days of the hols he always gets this idea of us going off for the day - not just one day, but every day. And mine made out a list too - here it is. I’ll read it out.”
    He took a neatly written list from the pocket of his flannels and read from it. “Old Water-Caves at Chillerbing. Museum of Age-Old Fossils at Tybolds. Norman Tower at Yellow-Moss…”
    “Gosh - those are down on my list too!” said Pip, scrabbling in his pocket for it. “Yes - all those are down - and two or three more. Roman Remains at Jackling Museum. Sea-pictures at Banshee Towers, at the top of Banshee Hill. Old Musical Instruments at…”
    “I don’t want to see any of them!” said Bets, suddenly looking very woebegone. “I wouldn’t so much mind the sea-pictures - I like sea-pictures - but I don’t like those ugly fossily things, or those…”
    “All right, Bets - you shan’t spend lovely spring days in Museums or Norman Towers or Caves,” said Fatty putting his arm round her. “But we might go and see Banshee Towers. You know why it’s called that, don’t you?”
    Nobody knew. “Well,” said Fatty, “a banshee means ‘a woman of the fairies’ - and it shrieks and wails when any misfortune or unhappiness comes to the family in whose house it lives.”
    “How very unpleasant,” said Daisy, at once. “I’m very glad my family doesn’t own a banshee. I should be scared stiff. Does Banshee Towers own a banshee, then?”
    “I suppose it did once, when the family lived in it,” said Fatty. “But now that it’s a museum - or a picture-gallery or something - I expect the banshee has retired!”
    “I don’t want to go to see Banshee Towers if the banshee still lives there,” said Bets, decidedly. “So you’ll have to find out, Fatty.”
    “I honestly shouldn’t worry,” said Fatty. “It would be a pity to let an old-time ‘woman of the fairies’ frighten you from seeing wonderful sea-pictures. And I believe they really are wonderful!”
    “Well, we’ll make a few expeditions to show our parents that we really are not the lie-abeds they think we are,” said Larry. “It should be rather fun, actually. We could picnic in these places - and I could use one of them for my holiday essay. It would be something to write about - especially the banshee howling. I hope it wails like anything when we’re there!”
    “I shan’t go if it does,” said Bets at once. “Hallo - who’s that at the door? Golly, that loud knock made me jump!”
    “Who’s there?” demanded Fatty.
    “It’s me - Ern,” said a well-known voice outside. “I’ve been sent to stay with my Uncle