Five Go to Billycock Hill

by Enid Blyton

  ‘I wish you’d take Timmy with you,’ said George uneasily. ‘I don’t like Butterfly Farm - or the witch-like old woman there - or the man you met with dark glasses who wasn’t Mr Brent, or the son you haven’t seen.’

  ‘Don’t be an ass, George,’ said Julian. ‘We shall be back by twelve, I expect - and Timmy is sure to bark in welcome, so you’ll know we’re safe.’

  The girls wouldn’t go to their tent to sleep, so they all sat and talked, and watched the sun slip behind the clear horizon. The weather was now perfect again, and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. It was difficult to imagine the sweeping rain and howling wind of last night’s storm.

  ‘Well,’ said Julian at last, looking at his watch. ‘Time we went. Timmy, look after the girls as usual.’

  ‘Woof,’ said Timmy, understanding perfectly.

  ‘And you look after yourselves,’ said Anne. ‘We’ll come down a little way with you - it’s such a lovely evening.’

  They all set off together, and the girls went halfway to the Butterfly Farm and then turned back with Timmy. ‘Well, Tim - mind you bark at twelve, when they come back,’ said Anne. ‘Though somehow I think that both George and I will still be awake!’

  The two boys went on down the hill and round to the right across towards Butterfly Farm. It was almost dark now, though the June night was very clear and bright. ‘Better be careful we’re not seen,’ muttered Julian. ‘It’s such a clear night.’

  They made their way to the big old oak-tree that stood at the back of the Butterfly Farm. Toby was not there - but in about two minutes they heard a slight rustling noise, and saw Toby, panting a little, as if he had been hurrying. Then he was close beside them.

  ‘Sorry I’m a bit late,’ he whispered. ‘I say - did you hear the six o’clock news?’

  ‘Yes - we were awfully sorry about it,’ said Julian.

  ‘Well - as I still don’t believe that Cousin Jeff stole the aeroplanes with Ray Wells, but that somebody else did, I wasn’t any more upset than before,’ said Toby. ‘If Jeff didn’t steal the plane, he wasn’t in it when it crashed, so he’s not drowned. See?’

  ‘Yes. I see,’ said Julian, glad that Toby had taken the news in that way, but convinced himself that there wasn’t really much hope.

  ‘What are your plans?’ whispered Toby. ‘There are lights in the cottage windows - and I don’t think any curtains are pulled. We could go and peep into each one and see exactly who is there!’

  ‘Good idea,’ said Julian. ‘Come on - and, for goodness’ sake, don’t make a noise. Single file, of course. I’ll lead the way.’

  And silently and slowly they went round the oak-tree and down to the tumble-down cottage. What would they see there, when they looked through those lighted windows?

  Chapter Sixteen

  LOOKING THROUGH WINDOWS

  The three tiptoed quietly up to the cottage. ‘Don’t go too near when you look in,’ whispered Julian. ‘Keep a little distance away. We shall be able to see who is in the rooms, but they mustn’t be able to see us outside. I sincerely hope they won’t!’

  ‘Look in the downstairs rooms,’ said Dick. ‘See, that’s the kitchen window over there. Old Mrs Janes may be there, if she’s still up.’

  They crept to the uncurtained window. The room was lighted by only a candle, and was full of shadows. The boys gazed in.

  Old Mrs James was there, sitting up in a brown rocking-chair, clad in a dirty dressing-gown. She rocked herself to and fro, and although the boys could not see her face, they sensed that the old woman was frightened and unhappy. Her head sank on her chest, and when she put her wispy hair back from her face, her hand shook.

  ‘She’s no witch, poor old thing!’ whispered Dick, feeling quite sad to see her rocking to and fro all by herself so late at night. ‘She’s just a poor, frightened old woman.’

  ‘Why is she up so late?’ wondered Julian. ‘She must be waiting for someone.’

  ‘Yes. She might be. We’d better look out then,’ said Toby at once, looking behind him as if he expected to see someone creeping up.

  ‘Now let’s go round to the front,’ said Dick. So they tiptoed there, and saw another lighted window - much more brightly lighted than the kitchen window had been. They kept a little way from the pane, afraid of being seen. They looked in and saw two men there, sitting at a table, poring over some papers.

  ‘Mr Gringle!’ said Julian, in a low voice. ‘No doubt about that - and the other one must be his friend, Mr Brent, I suppose. Certainly he isn’t wearing dark glasses, as that man was we gave the butterfly to and who gave us five shillings. He isn’t a bit like him!’

  They all looked intently at the ‘friend’. He was a perfectly ordinary man, with a small moustache, dark hair and a rather big nose. Not in the least like the ‘Mr Brent’ they had seen the day before.

  ‘What are they doing?’ whispered Toby.

  ‘It looks as if they’re making lists of something - probably making out bills for their customers,’ said Julian. ‘Anyway - I must say they look perfectly ordinary sitting there, doing a perfectly ordinary job. I think Mr Gringle was speaking the truth when he said that it wasn’t Mr Brent who gave us the five shillings and it certainly wasn’t him either that I saw on the hill-side last night with a butterfly net.’

  ‘Then who was it?’ asked Dick, pulling the others right away from the window, in order to talk more easily. ‘And why did he carry the butterfly net and tell that lie about moth-traps? Why was he on the hill, the night the planes were stolen?’

  ‘Yes - why was he? I’d like to ask him that!’ said Toby in too loud a voice. The others nudged him at once, and he spoke more softly. ‘Something funny was going on last night - something people don’t know anything about. I’d like to find that phony Mr Brent you met on the hill-side, Julian!’

  ‘Well, maybe we shall,’ said Julian. ‘Now - any other window lighted? Yes - one up there, under the roof. Who’s there, I wonder?’

  ‘Perhaps it’s Mrs Janes’ son,’ said Dick. ‘It would be just like him to take one of the three bedrooms and make her sleep downstairs in the old rocking-chair! I expect the other two little rooms up there are used by the Butterfly Men.’

  ‘How can we see into the lighted room?’ wondered Toby. ‘Look - if we got up in that tree there, we’d see in.’

  ‘There’s an easier way!’ said Julian, switching his torch on and off very quickly, giving the others just half a second to see a ladder leaning against a nearby woodshed.

  ‘Good - yes, that would be much easier,’ said Dick. ‘But we’ll have to be jolly quiet. Whoever is in there would come to the window at once if he so much as heard the top of the ladder grating against the window-ledge!’

  ‘Well, we’ll manage it all right,’ said Julian, ‘The window isn’t very high, and the ladder isn’t very heavy. Between us we can place it very gently against the wall without disturbing anyone!’

  The ladder was certainly quite light. The boys found no difficulty in carrying it slowly and carefully across to the cottage. They placed it against the wall without a sound!

  ‘I’ll go up,’ whispered Julian. ‘Hold the ladder steady - and for goodness’ sake keep a lookout! Give me a signal if you hear anything at all, because I don’t want to be trapped at the top of the ladder!’

  The others held the sides as he climbed the rather rickety rungs. He came to the lighted window and very cautiously and slowly lifted his head until he could see right into the room.

  It was lighted by a candle, a very small and untidy room, poorly furnished. A man sat on the bed there, a big hulking man, with broad shoulders and a neck like a bull. Julian gazed at him - yes, that must be Mrs Janes’ son, who, she said, was so unkind to her. Julian remembered the old mumbling voice saying that her son was cruel. ‘He hits me. He twists my arm!’ Yes, the man on the bed could be a nasty bully, no doubt about that.

  He was reading a newspaper close to the candle.

  As Julian looked at him, he pu
lled out a big watch from his pocket and stared at it, muttering something that Julian couldn’t hear. He stood up, and the boy was so afraid that he might come to the window, that he slithered down the ladder as quickly as possible.

  ‘The son’s in there,’ he whispered to the others. ‘I was afraid he was coming to the window to look out; that’s why I slid down so quickly. Blow! I’ve got a splinter in the palm of my hand doing that! Toby - could you creep up to the top in a minute or two and look in - just to make sure I’m right, and that it is Will Janes, the old woman’s son?’

  Toby went up the ladder as soon as they were certain that Will Janes was not going to look out. He came down almost at once.

  ‘Yes - that’s Will - but, my word, he has changed!’ whispered Toby. ‘He looks a brute now - and yet he was a kind, decent fellow not so long ago. Mother said he’d fallen in with a bad set of fellows, and had taken to drinking - so I suppose he’s quite different now.’

  ‘He looked at his watch as if he was expecting someone,’ said Julian. ‘I wonder - now, I wonder - if the man who paraded about the hill-side last night with a net is coming here tonight? I must say I’d like to get a good look at him. He can’t be up to any good.’

  ‘Well - let’s hide somewhere and wait,’ suggested Toby. ‘Nobody knows I’ve slipped out to be with you, so I shan’t be missed. Anyway, Mother wouldn’t mind if she knew I was on a night trip with you two!’

  ‘We’ll hide in that barn over there,’ said Julian, and, on tiptoe again, they crossed to an old ruined barn, whose roof was partly off, and whose walls were falling in. It smelt dirty and there seemed no clean place to sit in, but at last Julian pulled out some dusty sacks and they laid them in a corner and sat there waiting in the dark.

  ‘Pooh!’ said Dick. ‘What a horrible smell in here - old rotting potatoes, or something. I wish we’d chosen somewhere else.’

  ‘Sh!’ said Julian suddenly, giving him a nudge that made him jump. ‘I can hear something.’

  They all sat silent and listened. They could certainly hear something - yes - quiet footsteps, very quiet - made by rubber-soled shoes. The soft sounds passed by the barn, and they could no longer hear them. Then came a soft, low whistle.

  Julian stood up and looked through the broken barn window. ‘I think there are two men standing below Will Janes’ bedroom,’ he whispered. ‘They must be the men he was waiting for. He’ll be coming down. I hope to goodness they don’t come into this barn to talk!’

  This was a horrible thought, but there was no chance of going anywhere else, because at that moment the front door opened and Will Janes came out. Julian, still looking through the broken pane, could see him dimly outlined in the light that came from Mr Gringle’s front window.

  The three men went off very quietly round the cottage. ‘Come on,’ said Julian. ‘Let’s shadow them. We might hear something to explain what’s up.’

  ‘What’s the time?’ asked Dick. ‘I hope the girls won’t start worrying about us. It must be gone twelve by now.’

  ‘Yes. It is,’ said Julian, looking at the luminous hands of his watch. ‘It can’t be helped. They’ll guess we’re on to something!’

  They crept after the three men, who went to a clump of trees on the other side of the glass-houses. There they began to talk, but in such low tones that the three boys could hear nothing but the murmur of the voices.

  Then one man raised his voice. It was Will Janes - Toby recognised it at once and told the others. ‘It’s Will. He’s furious about something. He always loses his temper when he thinks people have treated him badly in any way - and it sounds as if he thinks those two men have.’

  The two men tried to quiet him, but he would not be pacified. ‘I want my money!’ the boys heard him say. ‘I helped you, didn’t I, I hid you here, didn’t I, till the job was done. Then give me my money!’

  His voice rose almost to a shout, and the two men with him grew frightened. Exactly what happened next the boys never knew, but quite suddenly there was the sound of a blow and a fall - then another blow and a fall - and Will Janes laughed. It was not a nice laugh.

  In a few seconds there came an anxious voice from the window of the room where Mr Gringle and his friend were at work. ‘Who’s there? What’s happening?’

  CRASH! That was the sound of breaking glass! Will Janes had picked up a big stone and flung it at the nearby glass-house. It made the three boys almost jump out of their skins.

  ‘It’s all right, sir! I came out to see who was prowling about!’ shouted Will Janes. ‘And whoever it was has broken some of the glass in your butterfly house. I’ve been out here shouting, trying to catch him.’

  He came blundering towards the house - and then, as luck would have it, his torch picked out the three crouching boys. He gave a yell!

  ‘Who’s this? Here they are, sir, kids who’ve been trying to smash the glass! Catch them - that’s right - I’ve got two of them - you catch the third!’

  Chapter Seventeen

  QUITE A LOT HAPPENS

  Things then happened so quickly that, to their utter amazement, the three boys found themselves captives, quite unable to escape.

  Big Will Janes had hold of both Dick and Toby - and he was so strong, and held them in such a vice-like grip, one in each hand, that it was hopeless to try to get away.

  Julian had run straight into Mr Gringle and Mr Brent, and the men had captured him between them. They were very angry.

  ‘What do you mean by coming here and snooping round, smashing our glass-houses!’ yelled Mr Gringle, shaking Julian in his rage. ‘We shall lose all our butterflies through that broken pane!’

  ‘Let me go. We didn’t break your glass,’ shouted Julian.

  ‘He did! I saw him!’ shouted Will Janes.

  ‘You didn’t!’ cried Toby. ‘Let me go, Will. I’m Toby Thomas, from Billycock Farm. You let me go or my father will have something to say!’

  ‘Oho - so it’s Toby Thomas, is it?’ said Will in a sneering voice. ‘Toby Thomas, whose father won’t employ Will Janes now because he turns his nose up at him. You wait till I tell the police tomorrow what I’ve caught you doing - I’ll say you’re the kids that have been taking our hens!’

  Will dragged the angry boys over to a shed, calling out to the other two men. ‘Bring them here. Chuck them in and we’ll lock the door and let them cool off till tomorrow morning!’

  Julian struggled valiantly against the two men, but short of kicking them viciously there was nothing he could do to escape - and he didn’t really want to harm them. It was all a mistake!

  And then - oh, joy - there came a sound that made Julian’s heart leap - the bark of a dog!

  ‘Timmy! It’s Timmy!’ yelled Julian to the others. ‘Call him! He’ll soon make Janes drop you!’

  ‘Tim, Tim!’ shouted Dick, and Timmy ran to him at once, and began to growl so ferociously that Will Janes stopped dragging the boys to the shed.

  ‘Set us free or he’ll spring at you,’ warned Dick. Timmy growled again, and nipped Will’s ankle just to let him know he had teeth. Will let both boys go, and they staggered away from him in relief. Then Timmy ran to Julian - but Mr Gringle and Mr Brent had already heard his fierce growls and did not wait for any more! They gave Julian a shove away from them, and retreated into the cottage.

  Will Janes also went into the cottage and lumbered up the stairs. The boys saw his figure outlined against the candle-light.

  ‘Well, thank goodness he didn’t go and scare his poor old mother,’ said Julian, shaking his clothes straight. They had been twisted and pulled in the struggle. ‘We’d better go and see if Will knocked those two men out - gracious, what a night! Good old Timmy - you just came in time!’

  ‘I bet the girls sent him after us when twelve o’clock came,’ said Dick. ‘He’d smell our tracks easily. Dear Old Tim. Now, go carefully - it’s about here that Will floored those two men, whoever they were.’

  But there was no sign of the men at all. They must have
got up from the ground very quickly and made themselves scarce. ‘They went while the going was good!’ said Toby grimly. ‘What do we do next?’

  ‘Get back to the camp,’ said Julian. ‘We’re really not much wiser now than when we came - except that we know that Gringle and Brent are Butterfly Men, and that Janes was a bad lot and in with those two fellows he knocked out...’

  ‘And that he helped them in some way, and hid them here - and hasn’t been paid,’ finished Dick. ‘But how did he help them and why?’

  ‘I’ve no idea,’ said Julian. ‘I can’t think any more tonight - my mind just won’t work. Go back home, Toby. We’ll talk it all out tomorrow.’

  Toby went off to the farm, puzzled and excited. What an evening! What would Cousin Jeff say when he told him - but no, he couldn’t tell him, People said he had gone off in that plane, and that he was now at the bottom of the sea.

  ‘But I won’t believe it,’ thought the tired boy, stoutly. ‘I will - not - believe it!’

  The girls were most relieved to hear the boys and Timmy coming back. ‘What happened? Why are you so late?’ said George. ‘Timmy found you all right, of course?’

  ‘Couldn’t have come at a better moment,’ said Julian, grinning in the light of George’s torch. ‘I suppose you sent him after us?’

  ‘We did,’ said George. ‘He wanted to go, anyway. He kept whining and whining as if you needed help - so we sent him off.’

  ‘And we did need help!’ said Dick, flinging himself down in the heather. ‘Listen to our tale!’

  He and Julian told it, and the girls listened, astonished.

  ‘What has been going on down there?’ said George, puzzled. ‘What has Will Janes been up to with those fellows? How can we find out?’

  ‘He won’t talk,’ said Julian. ‘Nobody can make him, either. But I think maybe if we went down tomorrow morning and found that he’d gone out, we might persuade old Mrs Janes to tell us a few secrets.’