Mystery of the Disappearing Cat Read Free

cats set up a miaowing. Fatty called fiercely:
    “Buster! Come here, sir! BUSTER! Do you hear me? COME HERE, SIR!”
    But no amount of calling could get Buster away if there was a cat to chase. Miss Harmer ran in despair to the bushes. Only Buster was there, his nose bleeding from a scratch, his tongue hanging out, his eyes very bright and excited.
    “Where’s Dark Queen?” wailed Miss Harmer. “Oh, this is awful! Puss, puss, puss!”
    Bets began to cry. She couldn’t bear to think that Dark Queen had gone. She thought she heard a noise in some bushes right at the end of the path and she ran off to see, tears running down her fat cheeks.
    Then there came another commotion. Someone walked up to the cages, came round them — and it was Mr. Tupping, the gardener! Luke stared at him in fright.
    “What’s all this?” shouted Mr. Tupping. “Who are you? What are you doing in my garden?”
    “It isn’t your garden,” said Fatty boldly. “It’s Lady Candling’s, and she’s a friend of my mother’s.”
    It wasn’t a bit of good telling Mr. Tupping that it wasn’t his garden. He felt that it belonged to him. And here were children and a dog in his garden! He detested children, dogs, cats, and birds.
    “You get out of here,” he shouted in an angry voice. “Go on! Get out at once! Do you hear me? And if I catch you here again I’ll box your ears and tell your fathers. Miss Harmer, what’s the matter with you?”
    “Dark Queen is gone!” wailed Miss Harmer, who seemed just as much afraid of Mr. Tupping as Luke.
    “Serves you right if you lose your job,” said Mr. Tupping. “What use are them cats, I’d like to know? Just rubbish, that’s all they are. Good riddance if one is gone!”
    “Shall we stay and help you to look for Dark Queen?” said Daisy to the Kennel-girl.
    “You get out,” said Mr. Tupping, and his big hooky nose got very red. His stone-coloured eyes glared at Daisy. He was an ugly, bad-tempered-looking fellow, with straw-coloured hair streaked with grey, and the children didn’t like the look of him at all.
    They decided to go. Tupping looked as if he might hit them at any moment. They made their way to the wall. They saw that Bets was not with them, but they thought she must have run back and climbed over the wall in her fear of the surly gardener. Fatty called Buster.
    “No; you leave that dog with me,” said Tupping. “A good hiding will do him good. I’ll give him one, then he won’t come interfering in my garden again.”
    “Don’t you dare to touch my dog!” cried Fatty at once. “He’ll bite you.”
    Tupping made a grab for Buster and got him by the collar. He held him firmly by the back of the neck so that he couldn’t even snap. He jerked him off his feet into the air, and then, carrying him by the back of the neck, marched off with him. Fatty was almost beside himself with anger.
    He ran after the gardener and pulled at his arm. The man hit out at the boy, and Fatty gasped. Tupping threw the dog into a shed, shut the door, turned the key and put it into his pocket. Then he turned to Fatty with such an ugly look on his face that the boy turned and ran.
    Soon all four were over the wall, lying on the grass, panting and angry. They had left poor frightened Luke behind, and poor scared Miss Harmer. They had left Bets behind too, though they didn’t know it — and Buster was locked in the shed.
    “Hateful man!” said Daisy, almost in tears.
    “The beast!” said Fatty between his teeth. “Look at this bruise already showing on my arm. That’s where he hit me.”
    “Poor old Buster,” said Pip, hearing an anguished whine in the distance.
    “Where’s Bets?” said Larry, looking all round. “Bets, Bets! Where are you?”
    There was no answer. Bets was still over the wall. “She must have gone indoors,” said Pip. “I say, what are we going to do about Buster? Fatty, we’ve got to rescue him, you know. We can’t leave him there. I bet he will whip the poor