by Enid Blyton
Pam and George felt very proud of themselves. Then the two girls reported. They told how they had discovered that the tracks came from the direction of the town of Templeton, and had gone down to the gates of the old house, where it was plain that they had stopped, as Jack had noticed the night before, when he heard the car. Then they told how the tracks had gone into the field, circled round and come out again – and had clearly gone up the lane and back the way they came.
«Good work», said Peter.
Janet took out her notebook and went rather red in the face. «I've got this to report, too», she said. She put on the table a page of the notebook on which she had drawn the tyre pattern. «I don't expect it's a bit of use: the pattern on the tyres of the van or trailer or lorry, or whatever it was that was pulled behind the car. And I measured the width, too.»
Everyone looked at the scribbled pattern. It didn't look anything much, but Peter seemed pleased.
«Even if it's no use, it was a good idea to do it», he said «Just suppose it was some use – and the snow melted – your drawing would be the only pattern we had to track down the tyres.»
«Yes», said Colin, warmly. «I think that was good, Janet.»
Janet glowed with pride. She put away her notebook. «Now you three boys report», she said, though she herself had already heard part of it from Peter while they were waiting for the others to come that afternoon.
Peter made the report for the three of them. Everyone listened in silence, looking very thrilled.
«So, you see», finished Peter, «somebody went to the old house last night, got in through the kitchen door, because the footsteps went right to there – and I think they left a prisoner behind!»
Pam gasped. «A prisoner! What do you mean?»
«Well, isn't it clear that there was a prisoner in that big window-less van – a prisoner who was not to be seen or heard – someone who was dragged round to the kitchen and forced inside – and hidden somewhere in that house? Somebody who was hurt and who squealed loudly enough for even the old deaf caretaker to hear?» said Peter.
Everyone looked upset and uncomfortable.
«I don't like it», said Colin. Nobody liked it. It was horrid to think of a poor, squealing prisoner locked up somewhere in that old, empty house. «What about his food?» said Colin, at last.
«Yes – and water to drink», said Janet. «And why is he locked up there?»
«Kidnapped, perhaps», said Jack. «You know – this is really very serious, if we're right.»
There was a silence. «Ought we to tell our parents?» asked Pam.
«Or the police?» said Jack.
«Well – not till we know a little bit more», said Peter. «There might be some quite simple explanation of all this – a car losing its way or something.»
«I've just thought of something!» said Jack. «That van – could it have been some sort of ambulance, do you think? You know, the van that ill people are taken to hospitals in? Maybe it was, and the car took the wrong turning, and stopped when it found it had gone wrong. And the ill person cried out with pain, or something.»
«But the caretaker said he heard squealing too, inside the house», said Peter. «Still, that might have been some noises in his head, of course, like those he says he sometimes has. Well – it's an idea, Jack – it might have been an ambulance, pulled by a car, though I can't say I've ever seen one like the one you describe.»
«Anyway, we'd better not tell anyone till we've proved there's something queer going on», said Colin. «We should feel most frightfully silly if we reported all this to the police and then they found it was just something perfectly ordinary!»
«Right. We'll keep the whole thing secret», said Peter. «But, of course, we've got to do something about it ourselves. We can't leave it.»
«Of course we've got to do something», said George. «But what?»
«We'll think», said Peter. So they all thought again. What would be the best move to make next?
«I've thought of something», said Jack at last. «It's a bit frightening, though. We couldn't let the girls into it.»
«Whatever is it?» said all three girls at once.
«Well – it seems to me that if there is a prisoner locked up in one of the rooms of the old house, he will have to be fed and given water», said Jack. «And whoever does that would have to visit him at night. See? So what about us taking it in turn at night to go and watch outside the old house to see who goes in – then we might even follow them and see where they go, and who they've got there!»
«It seems a very good idea», said Peter. «But we'd have to watch two at a time. I wouldn't want to go and hide somewhere there all by myself!»
«I think that probably someone will be along tonight», said George. «Why shouldn't all four of us boys go and wait in hiding?»
«It would be difficult for four of us to hide and not be seen», said Colin.
«Well – let's drape ourselves in white sheets or something and go and join the snowmen in the field!» said Peter, jokingly. To his surprise the other three boys pounced on his idea eagerly.
«Oh, yes, Peter – that's fine! Nobody would ever guess we weren't snowmen if we had something white round us!» said Colin.
«We get a good view of the lane, and could see and hear anyone coming along», said George.
«Two could follow anyone into the house and two remain on guard outside, as snowmen, to give warning in case the other two got into trouble», said Jack. «I'd love to stand there with the snowmen! We'd have to wrap up jolly warmly, though.»
«Can't we girls come too?» asked Pam.
«I don't want to!» said Barbara.
«Well, you can't come, anyhow», said Peter. «That's absolutely certain. Boys only are in the performance tonight!»
«It will be super!» said Jack, his eyes gleaming with excitement. «What about Scamper? Shall we take him?»
«We'd better, I think», said Peter. «He'll be absolutely quiet if I tell him.»
«I'll make him a little white coat said Janet. «Then he won't be seen either. He'll look like a big lump of snow or something!»
They all began to feel very excited. «What time shall we go?» said Colin.
«Well, it was about half-past nine, wasn't it, when the men arrived last night», said Jack. «We'll make it the same time then. Meet here at about nine tonight. My goodness – this is a bit of excitement, isn't it?»
9 – Out Into the Night
Janet spent the whole of the afternoon making Scamper a white coat. Peter borrowed a ragged old sheet, and found an old white macintosh. He thought he could cut up the sheet and make it do for the other three, it was so big.
Janet helped him to cut it up and make arm-holes and neck-holes. She giggled when he put one on to see if it was all right.
«You do look peculiar», she said. «What about your head – how are you going to hide your dark hair? It will be moonlight tonight, you know.»
«You'll have to try and make white caps or something for us», said Peter. «And we'll paint our faces white!»
«There's some whitewash in the shed», said Janet, with another giggle. «Oh, dear – you will all look queer. Can I come to the shed at nine, Peter, and just see you all before you go?»
«All right – if you can creep down without anyone seeing you», said Peter. «I think Mummy's going out tonight, so it should be all right. If she's not, you mustn't come in case you make a noise and spoil the whole thing.»
Mummy was going out that night. Good! Now it would be easy to slip down to the shed. Peter told Janet she must wrap up very warmly indeed – and if she had fallen asleep she was not to wake up!
«I shan't fall asleep», said Janet, indignantly. «You know I couldn't possibly. Mind you don't.»
«Don't be silly», said Peter. «As if the head one in an important plan like this could fall asleep! My word, Janet – the Secret Seven are in for an adventure this time!»
At half-past eight the children's lights were o
ut, and didn't go on again. But torches lighted up their rooms, and Janet was very, very busy dressing up Scamper in his new white coat. He didn't like it at all, and kept biting at it.
«Oh, Scamper – you won't be allowed to go unless you look like a snow-dog!» said Janet, almost in despair. And whether or not Scamper understood what she said she didn't know – but from that moment he let her dress him up without any more trouble. He looked peculiar and very mournful.
«Come on, if you're coming – it's almost nine», said a whispering voice. It was Peter's. Together the two children and Scamper crept down the stairs. They were very warmly wrapped up indeed – but as soon as they got out into the air they found that it was not nearly as cold as they expected.
«The snow's melting! There's no frost tonight», whispered Janet.
«Golly, I hope those snowmen won't have melted», said Peter, in alarm.
«Oh, they won't yet», said Janet. «Come on – I can see one of the others.»
The passwords were whispered softly at the door of the shed, and soon there were five of the Secret Seven there. Peter lighted a candle, and they all looked at one another in excitement.
«We've got to paint our faces white and put on our white things», said Peter. «Then we're ready.»
Jack giggled. «Look at Scamper! He's in white too! Scamper, you look ridiculous.»
«Woof», said Scamper, miserably. He felt ridiculous, too. Poor Scamper!
With squeals and gurgles of laughter the four boys painted their faces white. They had carefully put on their white things first so as not to mess their overcoats. Janet fitted the little white skull caps she had roughly made, over each boy's head.
«Well! I shouldn't like to meet you walking down the lane tonight!» she said. «You look terrifying!»
«Time we went», said Peter. «Goodbye, Janet. Go to bed now and sleep tight. I'll tell you our adventures in the morning! I shan't wake you when I come in.»
«I shall stay awake till you come!» said Janet.
She watched them go off down the moonlit path, a row of queer white figures with horrid white faces. They really did look like walking snowmen, as they trod softly over the soft, melting snow.
They made their way quietly out of the gate and walked in the direction of the lane that led to the old house, keeping a sharp lookout for any passers-by.
They met no one except a big boy who came so quietly round a corner in the snow that not one of the four heard him. They stopped at once when they saw him.
He stopped too. He gazed at the four white snowmen in horror. «Ooooh!» he said. «Ow! What's this? Who are you?»
Peter gave a dreadful groan, and the boy yelled in alarm. «Help! Four live snowmen! Help!»
He tore off down the road, shouting. The four boys collapsed in helpless giggles against the fence behind.
«Oh, dear!» said Jack. «I nearly burst with laughter when you did that groan, Peter.»
«Come on – we'd better get away quickly before the boy brings somebody back here», and they went chuckling on their way. They came to the lane where the old house stood and went down it. They soon came to the old house. It stood silent and dark, with its roof white in the moonlight.
«Nobody's here yet», said Peter. «There's no light anywhere in the house, and not a sound to be heard.»
«Let's go and join the merry gang of snowmen then», said Jack. «And I wish you'd tell Scamper not to get between my feet so much, Peter. He'll trip me up in this sheet thing I'm wearing.»
They climbed over the gate and went into the field. The snowmen still stood there, but alas! they were melting, and were already smaller than they had been in the morning. Scamper went and sniffed at each one solemnly. Peter called him.
«Come here! You've got to stand as still as we do – and remember, not a bark, not a growl, not a whine!»
Scamper understood. He stood as still as a statue beside Peter. The boys looked for all the world like neat snowmen as they stood there in the snowy field.
They waited and they waited. Nobody came. They waited for half an hour and then they began to feel cold. «The snow is melting round my feet», complained Jack. «How much longer do you think we've got to stand here?»
The others felt tired of it too. Gone were their ideas of staying half the night standing quietly with the snowmen! Half an hour was more than enough.
«Can't we go for a little walk, or something?» said Colin, impatiently. «Just to get us warm.»
Peter was about to answer when he stopped and stiffened. He had heard something. What was it?
Colin began to speak again. «Sh!» said Peter. Colin stopped at once. They all listened. A faraway sound came to their straining ears.
«It's that squealing noise», said Jack, suddenly. «I know it is! Only very faint and far away. It's coming from the old house. There is somebody there!»
Shivers went down their backs. They listened again, and once more the queer, far-away sound came on the night air.
«I don't like it», said Peter. «I'm going to the old house to see if I can hear it there. I think we ought to tell someone.»
«Let's all go», said Colin. But Peter was quite firm about that.
«No. Two to go and two to remain on guard. That's what we said. Jack, you come with me. Colin and George, stay here and watch.»
Peter and Jack, two queer white figures with strange white faces, went to the field gate, climbed it, and went to the gate of the old house. They opened it and shut it behind them. There was no noise at all to be heard now.
They went quietly up the drive, keeping to the shadows in case the old caretaker might possibly be looking out. They went to the front door and looked through the letter-box. Nothing was to be seen through there at all. All was dark inside.
They went to the side door. It was fastened, of course. Then they went to the back door and tried that. That was locked, too. Then they heard a queer thudding, thundering noise from somewhere in the house. They clutched at one another. What was going on in this old empty house?
«I say – that old man has left this window a bit open – the one he spoke to us out of this morning», whispered Jack, suddenly.
«Goodness – has he, really? Then what about getting in and seeing if we can find the prisoner?» whispered Peter, in excitement.
It only took a minute or two to climb up and get inside. They stood in the dark kitchen, listening. There was no noise to be heard at all. Where could the prisoner be?
«Dare we search the whole house from top to bottom?» said Peter. «I've got my torch.»
«Yes, we dare, because we jolly well ought to», answered Jack. So, as quietly as they could they tip-toed into first the scullery and then an outhouse. Nobody there at all.
«Now into the hall and we'll peep into the rooms there», said Peter.
The front rooms were bright with moonlight but the back rooms were dark. The boys pushed open each door and flashed the torch round the room beyond. Each one was silent and empty.
They came to a shut door. Sounds came from behind it. Peter clutched Jack. «Somebody's in here. I expect the door's locked, but I'll try it. Stand ready to run if we're chased!»
10 – In the Old Empty House
The door wasn't locked. It opened quietly. The sounds became loud at once. Somebody was in there, snoring! The same thought came to both boys at once. It must be the caretaker! Quietly Peter looked in.
Moonlight filled the room. On a low, untidy bed lay the old caretaker, not even undressed! He looked dirty and shabby, and he was snoring as he slept. Peter turned to go – and his torch suddenly knocked against the door and fell with a crash to the floor.
He stood petrified, but the old man didn't stir. Then Peter remembered how deaf he was! Thank goodness – he hadn't even heard the noise! He shut the door quietly and the two boys stood out in the hall. Peter tried his torch to see if he had broken it. No, it was all right. Good.
«Now we'll go upstairs», he whispered. «You're not afraid,
are you, Jack?»
«Not very», said Jack. «Just a bit. Come on.»
They went up the stairs that creaked and cracked in a very tiresome manner. Up to the first floor with five or six rooms to peep into – all as empty as one another. Then up to the top floor.
«We'll have to be careful now», said Jack. He spoke in such a whisper that Peter could hardly hear him. «These are the only rooms we haven't been into. The prisoner must be here somewhere.»
All the doors were ajar! Well, then, how could there be a prisoner – unless he was tied up? The two boys looked into each room, half-scared in case they saw something horrid. But there was absolutely nothing there at all. The rooms were either dark and empty, or full of moonlight and nothing else.
«It's queer, isn't it?» whispered Jack. «Honestly I don't understand it. Surely those noises did come from the house somewhere? Yet there's nothing and no one here except the old caretaker!»
They stood there, wondered what to do next – and once more that far-away, muffled squealing came on the night air, a kind of whinnying noise, followed by a series of curious thuds and crashes.
«There is a prisoner here somewhere – and he's knocking for help – and squealing too», said Peter, forgetting to whisper. «Someone downstairs. But we've looked everywhere.»
Jack was making for the stairs. «Come on – we must have missed a cupboard or something!» he called.
Down they went, not caring now about the noise they made. They came to the kitchen. The noises had stopped again. Then the thudding began once more. Jack clutched Peter.
«I know where it's coming from – under our feet! There's a cellar there. That's where the prisoner is!»
«Look for the cellar door then», said Peter. They found it at last, in a dark corner of the passage between kitchen and scullery. They turned the handle – and what a surprise – the door opened!
«It's not locked!» whispered Jack. «Why doesn't the prisoner escape then?»
Stone steps led downwards into the darkness. Peter flashed his torch down them. He called, in rather a shaky voice: