Mystery of the Strange Bundle (9 page)

Goon stared at him, astonished. “Why, the old watchman away up the other road asked me that,” he said. “I thought it was just his joke. Who’s been kidding you along too?”

“A young fellow,” said Willie. “Proper worried about his old uncle Horatious, he was - old gent what sleep-walks at night.”

“Oh. And I suppose Uncle Horatious went for a sleep-walk last night, did he?” said Mr. Goon, in such a ferocious voice that Willie was astonished.

“’Ere! What you talking to me like that for?” he complained.

“What was this fellow like who told you this fairy-tale?” demanded Mr. Goon.

“I didn’t rightly notice him much,” said Willie. “My eyes ain’t too good now. Young, he was. Tallish. A moustache of some sort. And he was fattish too.”

Mr. Goon gave an exclamation. Fattish! Could the owner of the sleep-walking uncle be - that fat boy! Was it that pest again, On the Track of Something as usual? Mr. Goon could have shouted in rage.

The moustache was put on, of course - the sleep-walking uncle was made up. It must be - it was that fat boy following the same clues as he, Mr. Goon, had so painfully worked out himself. Where was he? Where had he gone? If Mr. Goon could have got his hands on Fatty at that moment, Fatty would have had to yell for mercy!

“Now, you listen here, Willie,” said Mr. Goon, suddenly making a plan. “You listening?”

“Ay,” said Willie. “Speak louder, though. My ears ain’t so good.”

Mr. Goon spoke up, much to Fatty’s joy. What was he going to say?

“That fellow will come back this way,” said Mr. Goon. “I want to get my hands on him, see? So when you see him coming, you holler out to him. Get him over here and keep him talking.”

“What for?” asked Willie, doubtfully. “If he’s a bad lot I don’t want to give ’im the chance of knocking me on the ’ead.”

“I’m going to hide at the other end of the road,” said Goon. “In case he spots me. He’s scared of me, dead scared. If he so much as sees the lamp on my bike he’ll run for miles. And I want to get my hands on him, see? Now, when you see him coming, you take up one of your red lamps and swing it slowly to and fro in your hands. I’ll be along at once, while you’re talking to him.”

“All right,” said Willie, resignedly. What with people talking about sleep-walking uncles and red slippers and bad lots and swinging lamps, Willie was fed up. He’d never get down to a nice little snooze tonight, that was certain!

Mr. Goon disappeared on his bicycle. He went to the far end of the river road, got off, and hid under a tree, his bicycle beside him. Ah - he’d catch that fat boy on his way back! He’d have to come back that way, because the river barred his way at the other end of the road!

Fatty debated what to do. Should he cut down to the river, make his way across somebody’s back garden, and cut into the road that ran parallel with this? Or should he play a little trick on Goon?

He decided on the trick. Goon deserved one after saying that Fatty was dead scared of him! Fatty began to get to work quickly. He blackened his face with dirt. He twisted his cap the other way round, with the peak now shading his eyes. He put a white handkerchief round his neck instead of the scarf. He took off his moustache, but left in his awful teeth.

He felt about on the waste piece of ground nearby. Was there anything he could use in his trick. His hand fell upon an old sack. Good - just the thing! Fatty groped about among the rubbish left by the road-menders and came across pieces of brick and stone. He quickly slid them into the sack until it was half full. It was very heavy.

He made his way back to the road and skirted round to the back of the watchman. Then he walked slowly by him, half bent under the sack.

The watchman saw him, but his bleary old eyes couldn’t make out who it was. He stared hard, in doubt, wishing the moon would come out from behind a cloud. He decided that whoever it was looked decidedly suspicious. It wouldn’t do any harm to swing the red lamp to and fro!

He picked it up, turned himself towards Mr. Goon, and swung the lamp slowly. Fatty grinned as he saw it out of the corner of his eye. He plodded on slowly, bent under the sack. If ever any one looked a suspicious person at that moment, Fatty did!

Mr. Goon saw the swinging lamp, and came quickly down the road, keeping to the shadows, his rubber-soled boots making no noise. He tried to see if Fatty was there, talking to the watchman. But, to his great annoyance, when he got to the little hut there was no one there but Willie!

“Where is he? Why did you swing your lamp? He’s not here!” said Goon, exasperated.

“I see a very suspicious chap shuffling down the river road,” said Willie. “Not the chap as you wanted - but some one you’d like to get your hands on, I don’t doubt. A real suspicious chap. And carrying a heavy sack too. You’d like to know what’s in that sack, I reckon!”

“Ho! It certainly sounds bad,” said Goon, thinking that if he couldn’t get his hands on Fatty, it would be satisfactory to get them on to some one else. “What direction did he go in?”

“Yonder,” said Willie, nodding. And yonder went Goon, keeping to the shadows, tracking down Fatty and the suspicious sack. Fatty took a quick look back. Good! Goon was on his trail! He would lead him a nice little dance!

Down to the river plodded Fatty, and came to where the waves were silvery with moonlight. He turned down the towing-path that led to the small jetty nearby. Goon followed stealthily, breathing so hard that Fatty could hear him.

Fatty walked slowly shuffling one foot after the other, like an old, old man. He coughed mournfully as he went, a horrible hollow cough. He suddenly stopped and put down his sack as if it was too heavy. Goon stopped too.

Fatty heaved the sack on to his shoulder again, and set off once more on his way to the jetty. He stopped suddenly again when he was almost there and put the sack down once more, with a groan. Goon also stopped suddenly. He was very curious now. What was the old man doing with such a heavy sack? Where was he going? What was in the sack? Had he some accomplice he was meeting? Goon began to feel excited.

Fatty hoisted the sack on his back once again and went on his way. He came to the little wooden jetty. Moonlit water splashed against it. Fatty went on to the jetty and sat down with his sack as if to rest.

Now was Goon’s chance! He emerged from the shadows and strode heavily up to the jetty, a big figure in the moonlight.

“Now then,” he began. “What’s your name? And what have you got in that sack?”

“Bricks and stones,” said Fatty, truthfully, in a sad, weary, old-man voice.

“Gah!” said Goon, in scorn. “Nobody carries sacks of bricks and stones about, unless they’re mad!”

“Mebbe I’m mad,” said Fatty, drooping his head down so that the moonlight didn’t fall on his face.

“You open that sack and let me see what you’ve got,” said Goon, threateningly.

“No,” said Fatty, clutching the sack as if it contained rubies and diamonds.

“Come on, now!” said Goon, advancing on him. “You open that sack - and be quick about it!”

News from Erb

“It don’t belong to me,” said Fatty, obstinately, still clutching the sack.

“Who does it belong to then?” demanded Mr. Goon.

“Sh! It belongs to Mr. Fellows!” whispered Fatty, on the spur of the moment, and then was horrified to realize what he had said! Mr. Goon was amazed.

“Belongs to Mr. Fellows!” he repeated. “But - how did you get it? Look here, you give it to me. You are acting in a suspicious manner, and you’ll be arrested in a moment!”

He grabbed at the sack, and Fatty stood up, shouting dramatically, “No, no, don’t touch it!” And then, more dramatically, he picked up the sack and flung it down into the river beside the jetty. He was very glad to get rid of it indeed. It made a most tremendous splash.

Mr. Goon was bitterly disappointed. He had made up his mind that there was something very important in the sack - and now it was gone! He knelt down to look over the side of the jetty - and Fatty took to his heels at once.

Mr. Goon stood up and gaped at the running figure. How could the old, shuffling fellow run like that? Mr. Goon wondered if he was dreaming. He decided that he couldn’t possibly catch the fellow - why, he was almost at the turning into the river-road now! What a strange thing to run like that after so much shuffling! A sentence floated into Mr. Goon’s mind - “Fear lent him wings”. Well, Mr. Goon hadn’t got any wings. He would have to walk back at his own pace.

He knelt down again to look into the river, but, of course, he could see no sign of the sack. He made up his mind to come with a boat-hook the next day and haul it up. He would find out what was in that sack if he had to go into the water himself to get it!

Willie was astonished to see yet another figure, this time racing past, instead of shuffling past. The goings-on there were in these times! It was quite certain he wouldn’t get a snooze before midnight at this rate. That policeman would probably be coming back in a minute too.

Fatty fell to a walk after a bit. He guessed Mr. Goon wouldn’t come after him. He felt relieved to think that the policeman hadn’t recognized him. But whatever had made him say the sack belonged to Mr. Fellows? That was really rather idiotic, and not fair to Mr. Fellows! Fatty felt distinctly uncomfortable about that.

He got home without any further adventure, feeling unexpectedly tired. Buster gave him an uproarious welcome, and Fatty discarded all his clothes down in the old shed with the little Scottie dancing round him in delight.

Then Fatty crawled tiredly up the garden path from the shed to the house. “Gosh! I’m shuffling just like I pretended to,” he marvelled. “But shuffling’s not so good when it’s real!”

Fatty was so tired that he was almost asleep as he climbed the stairs. He fell into bed, and immediately began to dream of red lamps following him in a threatening manner. He groaned in his sleep and Buster pricked up one ear. Then Mr. Goon appeared in his dream riding on his bicycle - and fortunately the red lamps all attached themselves to him, so Fatty was at peace once more.

At breakfast the next morning the telephone rang. The maid came in and looked at Fatty. “It’s for you, Master Frederick,” she said. “Master Larry on the phone.”

Fatty jumped up as if dogs were after him. There must be Something Up if Larry telephoned so early! He hurried to the telephone.

“That you, Fatty?” came Larry’s excited voice. “I say - Mr. Fellows is back! I thought you’d better know at once in case old Goon doesn’t know yet.”

“Gosh, yes - thanks for phoning,” said Fatty. “But how did you know?”

“Erb told me,” said Larry. “I was out in the garden with Daisy looking for one of the kittens that wouldn’t come in, and Erb called over the wall to me. He said he was awake last night, listening to his precious owls again, when he heard the click of the gate next door.”

“Go on,” said Fatty. “What time was this?”

“He said it was about two o’clock in the morning,” said Larry. “He went to his window at once, wondering if it was a burglar again - but he says it was Mr. Fellows. He saw him clearly in the moonlight. And he saw him again when he went into the house, because he switched the light on in the sitting-room whose window Erb can see into. And it was Mr. Fellows all right.”

“What was he dressed in?” asked Fatty, excited by this news.

“He couldn’t really see - but he thinks he had on a dressing-gown,” said Larry. “He wasn’t carrying anything though - so if he did rush out of the house with a parcel of some sort…”

“He did!” said Fatty. “I found that out from a night-watchman last night!”

“Oh, good - well, whatever it was, he apparently didn’t bring it back with him,” said Larry. “Do you suppose he was shocked to see his house turned upside down?”

“No. He probably expected it,” said Fatty. “Well - I’ll be along at your house after breakfast. Telephone Pip and Bets, will you? We’ll have to think out our next move. By the way, Goon’s on the same track as we are. He was very chatty with the watchmen last night too - seems to me as if he’s been setting his brains to work. Most unusual!”

“Frederick!” called his mother. “Your breakfast is getting cold. Do come back.”

“Goodbye - see you later, Larry,” said Fatty hastily, wondering just how much of the telephone conversation his mother had heard.

He went back into the dining-room and sat down. “That was Larry,” he said. “We’re all going to his house this morning, if that’s all right, Mother. You don’t want me for anything, do you?”

“Well, I was going to look through all your school clothes,” said his mother. “But it will do another time.”

Fatty groaned. “School! I’m usually jolly pleased to go back - but this ‘flu’ has taken it out of me. I’d like the hols to be longer this time! ”

“You look the picture of health,” said his father, putting his newspaper down. “And judging by the number of sausages you’ve eaten you feel healthy enough too. You’ll go back to school on the right day, so don’t try to get round your mother.”

“I’m not!” said Fatty indignantly. “And sausages have nothing to do with how I feel. Actually, I was eating them quite absent-mindedly this morning.”

“What a waste of sausages then,” said his father, putting up his newspaper again. “Frederick, I couldn’t help overhearing part of your telephone conversation just now - I hope you are not going to get mixed up in anything to do with that absurd policeman again.”

“Not if I can help it,” said Fatty, spreading butter on his toast. “Any news in the paper this morning, Dad?”

“Plenty. And I’m quite aware that you are hurriedly changing the subject,” said Mr. Trotteville, drily.

Fatty said no more, but chewed his toast, his mind dwelling on the return of Mr. Fellows. He would go and see him immediately after breakfast, taking the kitten with him - what a marvellous excuse for going! He would see what he could get out of him. He hoped that Mr. Goon didn’t also know Mr. Fellows was back, but there was really no reason why he should have heard. Erb wouldn’t have told him!

“Good old Erb!” thought Fatty, drinking his coffee. Erb had come in very useful indeed. Good thing he was so interested in night-birds! He wouldn’t have been nearly so useful if his interest had been in house sparrows.