Mystery #02 — The Mystery of the Disappearing Cat

"He's the same old Fatty," said Pip with a grin. "Top of this, that, and the other — full of brains as usual — best boy in the school!"

"Shut up," said Fatty, giving Pip a friendly punch. "I suppose you were bottom of your form!"

It was lovely to lie on the grass, play with Buster, and think of the eight or nine long sunny weeks ahead. No lessons. No rules. No being kept in or writing out lines. The summer holidays were really the nicest of all.

"Any news, Bets?" asked Fatty. "Any mysteries turned up? Any problems to solve? We're still the Five Find-Outers and Dog, don't forget!"

"I know," said Bets happily. "But there isn't any mystery at present, Fatty. I haven't even seen old Clear-Orf for weeks."

Clear-Orf was the burly village Policeman, Mr. Goon. The children always called him Clear-Orf, because that was what he said whenever he saw them. He didn't like children, and they didn't like him.

"Bets just hasn't any news at all," said Pip. "Nothing at all seems to have happened in Peterswood since we left to go to school."

Bets suddenly remembered something. "Oh, I've just remembered," she said. "Somebody has come to live next door."

The house next door had been empty for a year or two. The other children looked at Bets. "Any children there?" asked Pip.

"No," said Bets. "At least, I don't think so. I've seen a big boy there, but I think he works in the garden. I hear him whistling sometimes. He whistles awfully nicely. Oh, and there are lots of cats there — very funny cats."

"Cats? What sort of cats?" said Pip in surprise, and Buster pricked up his ears and growled at the mention of cats.

"They've got dark-brown faces and tails and legs," said Bets, "and cream-coloured fur. I saw the girl who looks after them carrying one once. It looked very queer."

"She means Siamese cats," said Larry. "Have they got bright blue eyes, Bets?"

"I don't know," said Bets. "I wasn't near enough to see. Anyway, cats have green eyes, not blue, Larry."

"Siamese cats have bright blue ones," said Fatty. "I know, because my aunt once had one — a beauty, called Patabang. They are valuable cats."

"I'd like to go in next door and see them some day," said Daisy, thinking that a cat with bright blue eyes, dark-brown face, legs, and tail, and cream-coloured fur sounded very lovely. "Who's the owner, Bets?"

"Somebody called Lady Candling," said Bets. "I've never seen her. She is away a lot, I think."

The children lay on their backs talking. Buster went from one to another, licking their faces and making them squeal and push him away.

Then there came the sound of a cheerful whistling just over the wall. It was a fine whistle, clear and melodious.

"That's the big boy next door I told you about," said Bets. "Doesn't he whistle nicely?"

Larry got up and went to the wall. He hopped up on a big flower-pot and looked over the wall. He saw a boy there, about fifteen, a big lad with a round red face, startlingly blue eyes that looked rather surprised, and a big mouth full of very white teeth. The lad was hoeing the bed below the wall.

He looked up when he saw someone peeping over. He grinned, showing all his white teeth.

"Hallo," said Larry. "Are you the gardener next door?"

"Lawks! no," said the boy, grinning even more widely. "I'm just the boy — the gardener's boy, I'm called. Mr. Tupping is the gardener — him with the hooky nose and bad temper."

Larry didn't think that Mr. Tupping sounded very nice. He glanced up the garden, but Mr. Tupping and his hooky nose were not in sight.

"Could we come over and see the cats one day?" asked Larry. "It's Siamese cats, isn't it, that Lady Candling has?"

"Yes. Lovely creatures they are," said the boy. "Well, you'd better come when Mr. Tupping is out. He reckons that the whole place is his, cats and all, the way he behaves. Come in tomorrow afternoon. He'll be out then. You can get over this wall. The kennel-girl will be here — Miss Harmer her name is. She won't mind you seeing the cats."

"Righto!" said Larry, pleased. "We'll be over here tomorrow afternoon. I say — what's your name?"

But before the boy could answer him, an angry voice sounded from not far off.

"Luke! Luke! Where have you got to? Didn't I tell you to clear away that rubbish? Drat the boy, he's no use at all."

Luke raised startled blue eyes to Any, and put his hoe over his shoulder. He looked scared.

"That's him," he said in a whisper. "That's Mr. Tupping. I'll be going now. You come on over tomorrow."

He went up the path. Larry slipped back to the others. "He's the garden boy," he said. "His name's Luke. He looks nice, but a bit simple. I shouldn't think he could say boo to a goose."

Bets felt certain she couldn't either, because geese were big and hissy. "Are we to see the cats tomorrow?" she asked. "I heard you saying something about them."

"Yes. Tomorrow afternoon, when Mr. Tupping the gardener is out," said Larry. "We'll hop over the wall. Better not take old Buster though — you know what he is with cats!"