Mystery of Holly Lane Read Online Free PDF Page A

lane that led nowhere except to a farm. Pip just managed to see him disappearing round the corner. He guessed what he had gone to the farm for. The farmer had been complaining bitterly that his sheep had been worried by dogs. Goon must have gone to get details of the dogs. Oh, well — Pip could sit under a hedge and wait for Goon to come out again. It was a bit dull shadowing him, really. He wondered how Larry was getting on with his window-cleaning.
    Pip got off his bicycle, hid it in a ditch and then crept through a gap into the field. Sheep were there, with some fat woolly lambs about three months old. They were skipping about in a ridiculous fashion.
    Pip sat with his back against a hawthorn tree and watched them. Suddenly he heard the scampering of feet and loud panting breath — and in another second Buster had flung himself on him through the gap in the hedge! He licked Pip’s face and yelped for joy. “Found you!” he seemed to say. “Found you!”
    “Oh, Buster!” said Pip. “Stop licking me!” He pushed Buster away, and the dog ran out into the field in a wide circle, barking. Some near-by lambs started away in alarm and ran to their mother-sheep.
    And then a loud familiar voice came through the hedge. “Ho! So it’s that fat boy’s dog that chases Farmer Meadows’ sheep, is it? I might have guessed it. I’ll catch that dog and have him shot. I’ve just this minute been to the farm to get particulars of sheep-chasing dogs — and here I’ve got one caught in the act!”
    Mr. Goon came crashing through the hedge, and Pip at once sprang to his feet. “Buster wasn’t chasing the sheep!” he cried, indignantly. “He came to find me. He’s only arrived this very minute.”
    “I’ll catch that dog and take him off with me,” said Mr. Goon, simply delighted to think that he could find such a good reason for catching Buster.
    But it wasn’t so easy to catch the Scottie. In fact, it was far easier for Buster to catch Mr. Goon, as the policeman soon realised when Buster kept running at him and then backing away. In the end he had to shout to Pip to call him off. Pip called him — and Goon just had time to mount his bicycle and pedal away at top speed!
    “I wonder where Fatty is,” groaned Pip. “I must find him and tell him about this. Blow you, Buster! — what did you want to follow me for? NOW you’re in for trouble!”
     
    Fatty Enjoys Himself.
     
    Pip got on his bicycle and rode off. Buster ran beside him, keeping a good look-out for Mr. Goon. He would have very much liked another pounce at his ankles — but Goon was out of sight, on his way home. Visions of a nice hot cup of coffee, well-sugared, and a slice of home-made cake floated in his mind.
    Pip rode to Fatty’s house, but he wasn’t there. “Blow!” said Pip. “I suppose he’s gone off to sell his ticket to Goon. I wish I’d seen him. I bet he looks exactly like some old woman shopping in the town!”
    Fatty had had a most enjoyable time in his shed choosing a disguise to wear when he went to sell the ticket to Mr. Goon. He had chosen a rather long black skirt, a black jumper, a shapeless dark-red coat and a hat he had bought at the last jumble sale.
    It was black straw, and had a few dark-red roses in the front. Fatty put on a wig of dark hair, and made up his face, putting in a few artful wrinkles here and there.
    He looked at himself in the mirror and grinned. Then he frowned — and immediately the face of a cross old woman looked back at him out of the mirror!
    “I wish the others could see me,” thought Fatty. “They’d hoot with laughter. Now, where’s my hand-bag?”
    The hand-bag was a very old one of his mother’s. In it was a powder-compact, a handkerchief and a few hairpins, all of which Fatty kept there for use when he disguised himself as a woman. He delighted in taking out the powder case and dabbing powder on his nose, as he had so often seen women do! His mother would have been most astonished to see