Mystery of Holly Lane Read Free Page B

obstacle race,” said Fatty. “Hey, Buster, look where you’re going, you’ll knock me over.”
    “He always behaves like that when you first come home,” said Mrs. Trotteville. “I only hope he gets over the excitement soon. I simply daren’t walk a step when he goes mad like this.”
    “He’s a darling,” said Bets. “I know how he feels when Fatty comes home. I feel rather the same myself.”
    Fatty gave her a sudden hug. “Well, don’t you start racing round the furniture on all-fours,” he said. “Tell me — any mysterious mysteries or insoluble problems cropped up this last week? What a shame you all got home before I did!”
    “Nothing’s turned up yet,” said Pip. “But I bet something will now you’re here. Adventures go to the adventurous, you know.”
    “I do hope nothing does turn up,” said Mrs. Trotteville. “Or I shall have that silly Mr. Goon round here again. Now, the one I like is your friend, Superintendent Jenks!”
    They all stared at her. “Superintendent! You don’t mean that Chief-Inspector Jenks is a superintendent now!” said Larry. “My word — he’s going up and up, isn’t he?”
    “We knew him first when he was an Inspector,” said Bets, remembering. “And then he became a Chief-Inspector. Now he’s a Superintendent. I’m glad. He’s getting very very high-up, isn’t he? I hope he’ll still like to know us.”
    “I expect he will,” said Mrs. Trotteville smiling. “Oh, dear — I do wish Cook would keep the kitchen door shut when she is doing onions — what a smell came in here then.”
    “Keep the door shut when it’s steak and onions?” said Fatty, in horror. “Shut, did you say? Shut out a heavenly smell like that? Mother, don’t you realise that I have, as usual, been half-starved all the term?”
    “Well, it’s a pity you weren’t,” said his mother, looking at his tight overcoat. “Those buttons look as if they are just about to burst off. Your trunk has come, Frederick. Do you want to unpack it, and get ready for lunch straight away? We’re having it early as I thought you would be hungry.”
    “Mother, I do love you when you think things like that,” said Fatty, in a sudden burst of affection. “I’m starving!”
    “Cupboard love!” said his mother, amused at Fatty’s sudden hug.
    “Can all the others stay to lunch as well?” asked Fatty, hopefully.
    “Yes, if you’d like to share your bit of steak and onions round,” said his mother. But not even Fatty could rise to that, and so he said good-bye to the other four very reluctantly,
    “They can all come to tea this afternoon, if you like,” said Mrs. Trotteville. “I’ll get in plenty of cakes. Frederick, do control Buster. He’s gone mad again. It really makes me giddy to watch him.”
    “Buster! Behave yourself!” said Fatty, and the mad little Scottie turned himself miraculously into a quiet and peaceful little lamb, lying down on Fatty’s feet and licking his shoes.
    “Come back at three,” said Fatty, and took the others to the front gate. “We’ll have a good old talk and you can tell me all the news. So-long!” He went back to the house, sniffing for steak and onions again.
    “I suppose, Frederick, you don’t know anything about a bulky-looking foreigner who came to the front door this morning, and told Jane that this house was Grintriss, and wanted to force his way in and see some sister of his — do you?” said Mrs. Trotteville, when Fatty came back. “He kept talking about some ‘wicket children’ when Jane told him this wasn’t the house. You hadn’t anything to do with him, I suppose? You haven’t been up to your tricks again already, I hope.’
    “Of course not,” said Fatty, looking quite hurt. “Poor fellow — I found him at the front gate, and we all took him to the place he wanted to go to. Green-Trees, down Holly Lane. Oh, Mother, there’s that heavenly smell again. Do you mind if I go and smell it even nearer? I haven’t seen Cook or