by Enid Blyton
‘Jack! You didn’t come back last night! Oh, Jack, I hardly slept at all, wondering what had happened to you,’ cried Lucy-Ann.
‘What happened?’ asked Dinah, who was looking rather pale. She too had been very anxious, especially when the storm had come.
‘Heaps!’ said Jack. ‘Marvellous news! Best in the world!’
‘Gracious! Is Philip back then? – and Bill here?’ cried Lucy-Ann at once.
‘No – that’s not my news,’ said Jack. ‘Do you know what I’ve done? Bolted those men into the caves. What do you think of that?’
‘What a wonderful idea!’ said the girls together. ‘But what about the old people?’ asked Dinah.
‘Oh, I got them out first,’ said Jack. ‘And I found Pepi back by the cowshed place, and tied him up properly. He’s bound to that big tree where we once hid.’
‘JACK! How marvellous you are!’ cried Lucy-Ann. ‘Did you fight him?’
‘Well – not exactly,’ said Jack. ‘He caught me, and I kicked him hard. And just then the wind blew hard and a couple of our suitcases fell out of the tree and knocked him out. It was as much of a surprise to me as to him.’
‘Oh – of course – we left our suitcases up there!’ said Dinah. ‘Oh, Jack – what a good thing we did!’
‘Pepi must have had a most uncomfortable night,’ said Jack. ‘The rain and wind were his only companions.’
He told them how he had left the old couple in the cave of stars, and related the tale of the angry men trying to smash down the door.
‘I can’t get the old people to leave the caves,’ he said. ‘So we’d better take rugs and food and go back there to keep them company. They lent me their coat and shawl last night when my things were soaked. We can’t leave them alone there without food or bedding.’
‘Oh dear – I do like this cave so much better than anywhere else,’ sighed Lucy-Ann. ‘Still – those old people have been very good to us. Is Martha there too, Jack?’
‘Golly! – no, I’d forgotten all about her,’ said Jack, remembering. ‘I hope those men don’t kill and eat her.’
This was a dreadful thought, and made poor Lucy-Ann quite dumb for a minute or two. Poor Martha. Surely the men would leave her alone?
Kiki, of course, was as delighted to see Jack as the girls had been. She nestled on his shoulder, making crooning noises all the time he was talking, pulling at his ear and ruffling up his hair. Jack scratched her poll, delighted to have her again.
The girls collected a few tins, and Jack piled rugs over his shoulder. Then, with Kiki flying ahead, they set off to follow the familiar ‘signposts’ to the treasure caves. The sun beat down hotly. It was a really lovely day.
‘I wish I could draw a plan of how that hole behind the picture leads to our fern cave,’ said Dinah. ‘The mountain is riddled with holes and caves. I say, isn’t the waterfall loud this morning? – and it seems bigger than ever. I suppose it’s all the rain last night.’
They arrived at the entrance to the caves at last and went in. They made their way to the cave of stars and the old couple greeted them warmly and joyfully. The old woman was full of delight to see Lucy-Ann again, and greeted her lovingly.
‘I’m hungry,’ said Lucy-Ann, trying to wriggle out of Elsa’s arms. ‘Very hungry.’
They all were. It was a strange place to have a meal in – the cave of stars. The children watched the flickering, shining lights, quite entranced by them. If only Lucy-Ann could take some home for her bedroom ceiling! She wished this once again as she watched the shining stars.
‘Well, now, all we’ve got to do is to wait,’ said Jack, arranging the pile of rugs for everyone to sit on as comfortably as possible. ‘Everything rests with Philip now. Those men evidently don’t know he hid in a plane or they would have said something. He must have escaped all right. What is he doing, I wonder?’
29
A very strange journey
What had happened to Philip? He was certainly having a most adventurous time.
He slept under the pile of coats and rugs in the plane until dawn. Then the planes landed, and bumped along the ground on their huge wheels. Philip awoke at once.
He made a peephole through the rugs and watched to see what the two men in his plane were doing. They were getting out. What a bit of luck that they hadn’t even looked round the plane, or taken a coat from the pile!
Other men outside were greeting the new arrivals. Philip sat up and tried to hear what was said. But half of the speech was in a foreign language, and there was such a babel that it was impossible to make out anything.
He glanced round the plane. One of the crates was now in it, and a tarpaulin was tied loosely round it. Philip tried to see what was in it. Packed in straw was one of the statues, evidently one that was very valuable.
Philip peeped cautiously out of the window of the plane, for now the men’s voices had ceased. Where were the men? Could he slip out now and escape to get help?
He stared in surprise. The planes, and others too, were on a vast grassy plain – and in front and all round was the blue sea. All round! Well, then, they must be on some island somewhere.
He sat and thought for a moment. These men were rogues. They were doing a deal in valuable treasures hidden and perhaps forgotten during the last war; they had planes of their own – and a secret landing ground. What could be better than a lonely island, say, off the coast of Scotland?
‘Then I suppose they’ll have motor boats or launches of their own to get the stuff away,’ thought Philip. ‘A proper gang of them! I’ll never get away from here without being seen – never. If it’s an island – and it seems as if it must be – I’m as much a prisoner here as I was in the treasure caves. Blow!’
Then Dinah’s idea came into his mind. What about hiding in the crate? That figure would be sure to be put on board a boat and shipped off somewhere to be sold. Well, couldn’t he go with it?
He peeped out again to see where the men were. They were evidently having food and drink in a hut some distance off. Philip reckoned that he would have at least half an hour to get to work.
He loosened the tarpaulin a little more. He found that the crate was fastened by a hasp. He pulled it undone, and the whole side of the crate opened, like a sideways lid. Straw began to tumble out.
The figure was inside, packed loosely round with straw. Philip thought it must be the statue of some old-time saint. He looked at it closely. Could it be made of gold? It looked like it. Anyway, it didn’t matter. It was going to lie where Philip had just been lying – under the pile of rugs and coats. And Philip was going to take its place.
It was not really very difficult to get the figure out of the straw, but it was heavy once it was out. Philip almost fell under its weight, though it was only about as big as he was himself.
He dragged it to the pile of rugs. He put it right underneath, and piled the things over it so that not a scrap of it showed. Then he cleared up the fallen bits of straw and pushed them carefully back into the crate.
Then he had the task of creeping into the straw himself. The statue had made quite a hole, and Philip settled down in the same place. He pulled the straw carefully round him, and dragged the sideways lid shut. But he could not fasten the hasp, and had to leave it, hoping that if the men saw it open they would simply think it had come undone by accident.
It was terribly warm in the straw. Philip began to be alarmed in case he might not be able to breathe after a time, and burrowed a little tunnel from his mouth and nose to the outside of the straw. After that he felt better.
He had been in the crate about a quarter of an hour when two men drove up in a cart. They unloaded all the planes. They carefully slid the crate that Philip was in out of the plane, and when the side swung open, fastened the hasp carefully. They did not guess for one moment that a live boy was inside, instead of a silent statue.
Philip’s crate was loaded into the cart with other things. Then the cart was driven off towards the sea, bump
ing over ruts as it went. Philip was terribly jolted. The straw tickled and pricked him everywhere. He could hardly breathe.
But he didn’t mind. He would soon be on board ship, and taken to the mainland somewhere. Then he could escape and go to the police. So he lay there patiently, trying to avoid the sharp prickles of the straw by wriggling about every now and again.
He could see nothing in the crate. He could only guess when the cart arrived at a small jetty, beside which a big launch was moored. He was carried on board and dumped on a lower deck.
Bump! Philip gasped, for he was very much shaken. Other things were dumped beside him. Then there came the sound of shouts and orders. The motor of the launch started up and Philip felt the vessel moving smoothly over the water. They were off!
‘These men don’t lose much time,’ thought Philip. ‘They don’t have these things on their hands very long. Wonder who buys them?’
The trip to the mainland, wherever it was, was a long one. Philip was now quite sure that the landing ground for the planes was on some lonely island. At last the launch eased into some kind of harbour and came to a stop. Men began to unload it at once.
The crate was rather roughly handled, and once poor Philip was put upside-down for half a minute. That was terrible. He thought he would have to call out. But just when he was certain he couldn’t bear it any longer, he felt the crate being lifted again and put on a car or into a van, which drove off almost immediately.
After a while it stopped. Philip heard the sound of an engine whistling and his heart leapt for joy. They were probably at a railway station. Perhaps he would be put into the luggage van – or on a goods train. It would be easy enough to escape then. He had not dared to before, for he had felt certain that all the men handling the crate so far had been accomplices of the others.
He was not put on a train. He was left in a yard, along with other goods that were to go by a later train. He strained his ears, hoping to hear the van being driven off. Then, he thought, it would be safe for him to get out.
He waited for about twenty minutes. Then he began to try and wriggle out. But he could not undo the hasp. Blow!
He yelled. ‘Hi! Hi! Help me!’
A porter not far off jumped in alarm. He looked all round. There was no one in sight except a solitary passenger waiting for the next train, and another porter on the opposite platform.
Philip yelled again, ‘Hi! Hi! Let me out!’
The porter felt terribly scared. He looked at the waiting passenger. Had he heard the shouts too – or was it just the porter’s own imagination? The passenger had heard them, and he was looking most alarmed.
‘Somebody in trouble somewhere,’ said the man, walking to the porter. ‘Sounds as if he’s in that little yard there.’
‘There’s nobody there,’ said the porter, staring into the yard.
‘Hi! Hurry up and let me out!’ came Philip’s urgent voice, and to the horror of the passenger and the porter, the big crate began to rock violently.
‘There’s someone in there!’ cried the porter, and ran to the crate. He undid the hasp with trembling fingers and out came Philip, straw in his hair, straw down his neck, straw all over him, looking wild and terribly excited.
‘I want the police station,’ said Philip. ‘Can’t stop to explain anything to you now. Where’s the police station?’
‘Over there,’ stuttered the porter, pointing to a small square building about a hundred yards away from the railway station. ‘But – but – but . . .’
Philip left him ‘but-ing’ away, and sped off to the police station, thrilled at his escape. He had managed it wonderfully, he thought.
He shot into the police station and almost scared the policeman there out of his life.
‘I want to report something important to somebody in authority,’ said Philip. ‘Who’s the head man here?’
‘I’m the constable here,’ said the policeman. ‘Who are you, and what do you want? You can report to me.’
‘I want to use the telephone,’ said Philip, thinking it would be a good thing to get into touch with Bill at once. ‘Will you get a number for me, please?’
‘Here here – you can’t go using our police phones without good cause,’ said the policeman, beginning to feel that this straw-strewn boy was mad. ‘What’s your name, and where do you live?’
‘My name is Philip Mannering,’ said Philip impatiently. ‘Don’t hold me up, please. I’ve very important things to report to somebody.’
The name caught the policeman’s attention at once. ‘Philip Mannering?’ he said. ‘Here – are you one of the missing children? There’s four been missing for days. You one of them?’
He drew a leaflet from a drawer and looked at it. He passed it across to Philip. To the boy’s surprise he saw a photograph of himself, Lucy-Ann, Jack and Dinah – and Kiki too, of course – at the head of the paper, and their names and descriptions underneath.
‘Yes – I’m that boy,’ he said, pointing to his photograph. ‘Philip Mannering. And I want to get in touch with Bill Smugs – no, his real name’s Cunningham, of course – at once. It’s MOST IMPORTANT.’
The policeman suddenly got very busy. He took up the receiver of the phone. He barked a number into it, which he got at once. He evidently got on to somebody in high authority immediately.
‘Sir, one of the missing children has just turned up here – Philip Mannering – wants to report something to Detective Inspector Cunningham. Yes, sir. I will, sir.’ He turned to Philip.
‘Are the other children with you?’
‘No – but they’re all right – so far,’ said Philip. ‘I’ve escaped and I want help to rescue them. Can I get on to Bill Cunningham, please?’
The policeman spoke into the telephone. ‘The other children are all right, but not with him. Please notify Mrs Mannering. More news to follow. When will the Inspector be here?’
The policeman put the receiver down and gazed in a very pleased manner at Philip. To think that this exciting case of Missing Children should be reported to his little station!
‘Where am I?’ asked Philip suddenly. ‘What is this place called?’
‘Don’t you know?’ said the policeman, surprised. ‘It’s Gairdon, on the north-east coast of Scotland.’
‘I guessed that’s about where I’d be,’ said Philip. ‘Sorry I can’t tell you anything, constable – but I think I’d better wait for Bill.’
Bill came – in his aeroplane! He landed at the nearest aerodrome, took a fast police car, and arrived at Gairdon in two hours’ time. Very good going. Philip heard the car roaring up and ran to meet it.
‘Bill! I knew you’d come! Oh, Bill – I’ve got the most exciting news for you! I don’t know where to begin.’
30
Bill gets busy
Bill swung out of the car, took hold of Philip by the arm and had a good look at him. ‘You’re all right?’ he demanded. ‘All of you? Your mother’s been nearly off her head with worry.’
‘I’m all right, Bill, so’s everybody. But we’ve fallen right into the middle of a most extraordinary adventure,’ said Philip. ‘I must tell you quickly. We’ve got to get busy. You see . . .’
‘Come into the police station,’ said Bill. Philip followed the burly figure, full of relief to hear his determined voice, and to see his strong, clever face.
Soon the whole story was being poured out. Bill listened in amazement, occasionally rapping out a sharp question. When he heard how Philip had taken the statue out of the crate and put himself in its place, and was taken to the railway station, he burst out laughing.
‘I never in my life knew children like you! Whatever will you do next? I can’t cope with you. But, joking apart, this is a most extraordinary thing, Philip, most amazing. The men you got caught up with are the very men I’d been after for some time. We couldn’t find out what they were up to – though we knew jolly well they were up to no good.’
‘Really?’ said Philip, astonished. ‘By
the way, Bill – that night we were to go with you in your plane – and got into the wrong one – we heard shots. Was that anything to do with you?’
‘It was,’ said Bill grimly. ‘It so happened that two of the men were spotted there, and detained. They shot their way out – and that was what you heard. I nearly got a bullet in my leg. I can tell you, we shall be very glad to get our hands on them and have something to charge them with. Clever rogues! They are crooks from South America, in touch with the old Nazis, who have told them the whereabouts of many of the lost or hidden treasures in Europe. Many of them have never been found, you know.’
‘Gosh – you wait till you see our treasure caves!’ said Philip. ‘Oh – by the way, here’s a notebook I pinched from one of the men’s coats.’
He handed it over. Bill squinted at it, and his eyes nearly fell out of his head.
‘I say – my word! – look here – this is a code – the code the rascals use – and a list of all the people concerned in this racket – with their addresses in code! Philip, you deserve a medal. This is a first-class find. We can round up the whole gang.’
Philip was delighted at Bill’s pleasure. Bill got up and went to the telephone. He made many calls, short, sharp and to the point. Philip listened but could not make much of them. He hoped Bill would soon set off to rescue the others. They would be waiting most anxiously.
Bill put down the telephone receiver at last. ‘We’re taking my aeroplane and another, and twelve men counting myself,’ he said. ‘Starting at twelve.’
‘I’m going too, aren’t I?’ said Philip anxiously.
‘I think you’d better stay and see your mother,’ said Bill. ‘And also – there may be a bit of a dust-up, you know, when we get there.’
Philip stared at him in the greatest indignation. ‘Bill! The others will be there – Jack and the rest – and you’d keep me out of it? Didn’t I come here, didn’t I . . .’
