Archie's Battleflat Adventures: The Harriman Mystery Read Online Free PDF Page A

into the small bush beside
him, but knew Basil and Agatha well enough to know that they would
create such a ruckus that it would be impossible to get any sleep
until they got fed. Then Archie would have some explaining to do.
The knowledge that he would have a stern ticking off if he didn’t
do as he had said he would, was enough to spur him into
action.
    Squaring
his shoulders, he clutched the plate of scraps in one hand and the
small paring knife in the other. With his gaze firmly locked on the
outline of the pig pen before him, Archie left the solid comfort of
the kitchen door and stalked across the garden. As he walked, his
gaze flicked from one bush to the next, searching the deep shadows
for any sign of movement. Everything within him screamed at him to
run, throw the plate, and get back inside. Be quick. Hurry. Stay
safe.
    The
short walk to the pig pen took longer than he had ever thought
possible. His cheeks puffed out in wary relief as he upended the
contents of the plate into the pen. The delighted squeals and
snorts of Basil and Agatha as they ate their long-awaited tea was
the only sound Archie could hear beside the nervous thumping of his
heart.
    He
slowly turned around to face the house.
    There!
    Further
down the lane under the cover of the large oak tree; a furtive
movement of someone in the shadows. Archie’s eyes grew round as he
studied the trees, wondering if his imagination was getting away
with him. His heart hammered louder than ever before and, without
further hesitation, he lurched into action.
    Tearing
down the path, he blasted across the gardens, cleared the small
stone wall next to the garden in one smooth jump and burst through
the kitchen door. He slammed the door behind him, and slumped
against it, chest heaving with a mixture of exhilaration and
fear.
    He’d
done it!
    He
couldn’t believe he had actually gone outside, in the dark, and fed
the pigs. The murderer was out there still. He was sure of it! Or
was he? He frowned at the wall opposite. Had it been his
imagination? Was he jumping at shadows because of what he had seen
that afternoon? Nevertheless, Archie slid the bolt across with a
satisfying thump.
    As far
as he knew nobody needed to go outside again tonight so, for now,
they were all safe. First thing in the morning, he would tell his
dad what he had seen and then leave it to the grown-ups to decide
what to do. They could look for Mr Harriman, and try to find the
murderer.
    “ There you are, Archie!” His mum shook her head at him sternly
as she bustled about the kitchen. “What are you doing with that?”
She nodded toward the small paring knife still clutched in Archie’s
hand. “Here, give that to me before you hurt yourself.” She
snatched the weapon off him and slapped it back onto the dresser in
her usual bustling manner. “We have finished supper already, but I
saved you a plate.” She ushered him into the sitting room,
motioning for him to sit at the square table in the middle of the
room. Her voice faded as she disappeared into the kitchen,
reappearing several moments later with a plate of bread and butter,
a piece of pie and an apple.
    Archie
watched as she placed the feast before him with a thump.
    The
blood drained out of his face. Bile rose in his throat. For a
moment he stared at the bread as though it was about to lurch from
the plate and crawl off.
    “ Go on then, eat up,” his mum motioned toward the plate
encouragingly, waiting beside him. Archie knew she wouldn’t move
until he had started to eat. They hadn’t food to waste, and it was
a house rule that everyone ate what was put in front of them. It
didn’t matter if you liked it or not, there was nothing on offer
until the next meal, so you had to accept what you were given and
like it. No questions asked. Archie knew that he couldn’t choke the
food past the lump in his throat for anything. He also knew that he
should tell his dad what he had seen, but the words just wouldn’t
come. He couldn’t