Mystery #04 — The Mystery of the Spiteful Letters

‘I bet Fatty would like us to have him,’ said Pip. ‘Let’s go up to Fatty’s house and ask his mother about Buster. Come on. We’ll go now.’

They all turned and went back down the drive. Bets felt a little comforted. It would be something to have Fatty’s dog, even if they couldn’t have Fatty. Dear old Buster! He was such a darling, and had shared all their adventures.

They came to Fatty’s house and went into the drive. Fatty’s mother was picking some daffodils for her vases, and she smiled at the children.

‘Back for the holidays!’ she said. ‘Well, I hope you’ll all have a nice time. You’re looking very solemn. Is anything the matter?’

‘Well - we just came to see if we could have Buster for the hols,’ said Larry. ‘Oh, there he is! Buster, Buster old fellow! Come here!’

 

FATTY REALLY IS SURPRISING!

 

Buster came tearing up to the children, barking madly, his tail wagging nineteen to the dozen. He flung himself on them and tried to lick and bark at the same time.

‘Good old Buster!’ said Pip. ‘I bet you’ll miss Fatty!’

‘It was a great surprise to hear that Fatty has gone to China,’ said Daisy to Mrs. Trotteville. Fatty’s mother looked surprised.

‘In an aeroplane too! ’ said Larry. ‘You’ll miss him, won’t you, Mrs. Trotteville?’

‘What exactly do you mean?’ asked Mrs. Trotteville, looking as if she thought the children had gone mad all of a sudden.

‘Gracious - Fatty can’t have told her!’ said Bets, in a loud whisper.

‘Told me what?’ said Mrs. Trotteville, getting impatient. ‘What’s the mystery? What’s Fatty been up to?’

‘But - but - don’t you know?’ stammered Larry. ‘He’s gone to Tippylooloo, and...’

‘Tippylooloo! What’s all this nonsense?’ said Mrs. Trotteville. She raised her voice. ‘Frederick! Come here a minute!’

The children turned breathlessly to the house - and out of the front door stepping lazily, came Fatty! Yes, it really was Fatty, as large as life, grinning all over his plump face. Bets gave a loud shriek and ran to him. She hugged him.

‘Oh, I thought you’d gone to Tippylootoo! Didn’t you go? Oh, Fatty, I’m so glad you’re here!’

The others stared. They were puzzled. ‘Did you send us that telegram?’ said Daisy suddenly. ‘Was it a joke on your part, Fatty?’

‘What telegram?’ asked Fatty innocently. ‘I was just about to come down and see you all.’

‘This telegram!’ said Pip, and pushed it into Fatty’s hand. He read it and looked astonished.

‘Somebody’s been playing a joke on you,’ he said. ‘Silly sort of joke. And anyway, fancy you all believing I was off to Tippylooloo! Gosh!’

‘You and your jokes! ’ said Mrs. Trotteville. ‘As if I should let Frederick go to China, or wherever that ridiculous Tippylooloo place is. Now, if you want to go and talk to Frederick, either go indoors or go for a walk.’

They went indoors. They still felt very puzzled. Buster danced round, barking in delight. He was overjoyed because the whole company of Find-Outers was together again.

‘Who delivered this telegram?’ asked Fatty.

‘The telegraph-boy,’ said Pip. ‘A red-haired chap with freckles and a cheeky kind of voice. He let his bike-handle catch old Clear-Orf on the shin! You should have seen him dance round!’

‘Hm,’ said Fatty. ‘There’s something queer about that telegraph-boy, I think! Delivering a telegram I didn’t send! Let’s go out and look for him and ask him a few questions!’

They went out, and walked down the lane together, Buster at their heels. ‘You go that way, Larry and Daisy, and you go the opposite way, Pip and Bets,’ said Fatty. ‘I’ll take this third way. We’ll scour the village properly for that boy, and meet at the corner by the church in half an hour’s time.’

‘I want to go with you, Fatty,’ said Bets.

‘No, you go with Pip,’ said Fatty, unexpectedly hard-hearted. He usually let Bets have her own way in everything. Bets said nothing but walked off with Pip, feeling rather hurt.

Larry and Daisy saw no telegraph-boy at all, and were waiting by the church corner in twenty-five minutes’ time. Then Pip and Bets came up. They hadn’t seen him either. They looked up and down for Fatty and Buster.

Round the corner came a bicycle, and on it was - the red-headed telegraph-boy, whistling loudly. Larry gave a yell.

‘Oy! Come over here a minute!’

The telegraph-boy wobbled over, and balanced himself by the kerb. His red hair fell in a big lock over his forehead, and his uniform cap was well on one side.

‘What’s up, mate?’ he said.

‘It’s about that telegram,’ said Larry. ‘It’s all nonsense! Our friend Frederick Trotteville hasn’t gone to China - he’s here!’

‘Where?’ said the boy, looking all round.

‘I mean he’s in the village somewhere,’ said Larry. ‘He’ll be along in a minute.’

‘Coo!’ said the boy. ‘I wouldn’t half like to see him! He’s a wonder, he is! I wonder the police don’t take him on, and get him to help them with their problems.’

‘Well, we all helped to solve the mysteries you know,’ said Pip, beginning to feel that it was time he and the others got a bit of praise too.