by Enid Blyton
‘Probably,’ said his father. ‘But I shall hide them somewhere. Can you think of a good hiding-place, Tinker?’
‘Dad - don’t you hide them,’ begged Tinker. ‘Not unless you tell me where they are! You know how you forget things! You might forget where you’d put this bunch of papers, and then you wouldn’t be able to go on with your inventions. Have you copies of the stolen sheets of figures and diagrams?’
‘No. But they’re all in my head as well as on paper,’ said his father. ‘It will take me a bit of time to work them all out again, but it can be done. It’s a nuisance-especially as I’m working to a date. Now run along, Tinker, please. I’ve work to do.’
Tinker went down the spiral staircase of the tower. He’d have to make sure that his father did hide away those papers very carefully indeed - in some really good place. ‘Oh dear - I hope he won’t do what he did with the last lot of papers he wanted to hide,’ he thought. ‘He stuffed them up the chimney - and they nearly went up in flames because Jenny thought she’d light the fire the next night, it was unexpectedly so cold. Good thing they fell down when she laid the fire, and she rescued them before they got burnt! Why are brainy people like Dad so silly about ordinary things? I say he’ll either forget where he puts them - or go and hide them in some easy place where anyone could find them!’
He went to talk to Jenny. ‘Jenny - Dad says that the thief only took some of his papers - and that he can’t make much use of the ones he took, unless he has the whole lot. And Dad says he thinks that when the thief finds this out, he’ll try to steal the rest of the papers.’
‘Well, let him try!’ said Jenny. ‘I could hide them in a place where no thief would find them - if your Dad would let me have them. I shan’t tell you where!’
‘I’m afraid he might hide them up a chimney again, or some silly place like that,’ said Tinker, looking so worried that Jenny felt really worried too! ‘They’ve got to be hidden somewhere NOBODY would think of looking. And if Dad finds a place like that he’ll promptly forget all about it, and never be able to find them again! But a thief might find them - he’d know ALL the places to look in.’
'Let’s go up to the tower room, and clear up the mess that the spilt ink made, and see if your father has taken his precious papers, and hidden them somewhere there,’ said Jenny. ‘It would be just like him to hide them in the very room that the thief went to last night! Up the ladder, in at the window - left wide open, I’ve no doubt - snatched up every paper he could see, the rogue, and then raced down the ladder again!’
‘Come on up to the tower, then,’ said Tinker. ‘I only hope Dad isn’t there!’
‘He’s just crossing the courtyard, look,’ said Jenny, leaning out of the window. ‘See, there he is - carrying something under his arm.’
‘His morning newspapers,’ said Tinker. ‘It looks as if he’s going to have a jolly good read, doesn’t it? Oh dear, I do hope all this won’t be printed in the newspapers - it would bring hordes of people down here again. Do you remember how awful it was last time, Jenny - people even walked over the flower-beds!’
‘Hoo - some people like to poke their noses into everything!’ said Jenny. ‘I don’t mind telling you that I emptied my dirty washing-water out of the window on to a few of them - quite by mistake, of course - how was I to know they were out there, staring up and down?’
Tinker gave a shout of laughter. ‘I wish I’d seen that!’ he said. ‘Oh Jenny - if people come poking their noses into Dad’s business again, DO let’s empty water on their silly heads! Come on, Jenny - let’s go up to the tower room now Dad’s out of the way. Quick!’
They were soon out in the courtyard, and as they crossed it, Jenny stopped and looked hard at the ground.
‘What are you looking for?’ asked Tinker.
‘Just to see if there are any marks that might have been made by someone dragging a ladder across,’ said Jenny. ‘I heard a funny slithering sound, you know - but it didn’t sound like a ladder being dragged across.’
The two of them looked all over the courtyard, but could see no marks there that could possibly have been made by a ladder.
‘Funny,’ said Jenny. ‘It worries me, that slithery sound.’ She looked up at the tall, steep wall of the tower. It was made of flint-stones of all shapes and sizes, the kind found in the country-side round about Kirrin and Big Hollow.
‘Well, I suppose a cat might climb up,’ said Jenny, doubtfully. ‘But not a man. He’d slip sooner or later. It would be far too dangerous. I doubt if even a cat would get far.’
‘And yet you say you thought you saw someone up the tower-wall!’ said Tinker. ‘Go on, Jenny - it must have been the shadow of a passing cloud that you saw! Look up this wall - now can you imagine ANYONE climbing up it at night, when it was dark?’
Jenny stared up. ‘No - you’re right. Only a madman would even try. Well, my eyes must have played me up, then, when I looked out last night - but I really did think I saw a dark shadow climbing up the tower-wall. Still, it’s easy to be mistaken at night. And I don’t believe there was a ladder, either! There would be marks on the paving-stones of the courtyard if there had been a ladder. Oh well - let’s hurry on up to the tower room before your Dad decides to go back to it again!’
They went up the spiral stairway. All the doors were unlocked, so it was plain that the Professor was going to come back again after he had read his papers.
‘All the same - he shouldn’t leave the doors unlocked, even for a minute!’ said Jenny. ‘Well, here we are - just look at the ink-splashes everywhere - and that dear little clock that kept such good time is gone. Now what would the thief want with a clock, I’d like to know?’
‘It would be small and neat enough to pop into his pocket,’ said Tinker. ‘If he was dishonest enough to steal Dad’s papers, he would certainly not say no to a nice little clock like that! He’s probably taken other things too!’
They went right into the room, and Jenny at once gave a loud exclamation. ‘Look! Aren’t those some of the papers your father was working on - on the table there? All covered with tiny figures?’
Tinker looked closely at them. ‘Yes - they’re his very latest papers. He showed me them the other day. I remember this diagram. Jenny - how COULD he leave them on the table with the door unlocked this morning - when only last night the thief was here! How could he? He said he was going to hide them away so carefully, because, if the thief found them, he could use them with the other papers that were stolen - but as long as the thief only had half of them, they wouldn’t be much use - and now he’s forgotten all about hiding them, after all!’
‘Look now, Tinker - let’s hide them away ourselves,’ said Jenny, ‘and not tell him where they are. These thieves will have another try for them, no doubt about that. Let’s think of some place where they’d be absolutely safe.’
‘I know!’ said Tinker. ‘We could hide them on Kirrin Island! Somewhere in the old ruined castle! NOBODY would guess they were there.’
‘Now that’s a fine idea!’ said Jenny. ‘I’d be glad to think they were out of the house.’ She gathered up the papers quickly. ‘Here you are. You’d better tell Julian and the others, and go across to the island with them as soon as you can. My, what a relief to think they’ll be well away from here. I’ll be able to sleep soundly in my bed at nights then!’
Tinker stuffed the precious papers under his coat, and he and Jenny ran at top speed down the spiral stairway. They saw the Professor not far off, and he turned and hailed them. ‘Tinker! Jenny! I know what you’re going to ask me! You want to know where I’ve hidden those papers of mine. Come here and I’ll whisper!’
Not knowing quite what to say, the two went rather guiltily over to Tinker’s father. He whispered loudly, ‘I’ve wrapped them up, and put them under the coal at the back of the coal-cellar - right at the very back!’
‘And a fine mess you’ve made of your trousers, sir,’ said Jenny, disgusted. ‘And good gracious - you must have sat down in the
coal yourself! You look a right mess. Come along and let me brush you down. Not indoors though, or the place will be thick with coal-dust!’
‘Don’t you think it was a good hiding-place, Jenny?’ asked the Professor. ‘Ha - you thought I’d forget to hide them, didn’t you?’
He went off, looking very pleased with himself. Jenny chuckled in delight. ‘Dear old Professor! He’s hidden all his newspapers there, but not a single one of his own precious papers. And now whatever shall we tell him when he wants the morning papers? Tinker, you cycle out to the paper-shop and get another lot. Land-snakes - what it is to have a brainy man in the house? Whatever will he do next!’
Chapter Thirteen
QUITE A LOT OF PLANS!
After Tinker had fetched a new supply of morning papers, he decided to go down to the camp in the field and tell the others all that had happened that morning. He still felt angry about being ticked off by Julian the night before - but he simply couldn’t wait to tell the others about the robbery - and about the grand idea he, Tinker, had of hiding the rest of his father’s papers on Kirrin Island.
So off he went, with Mischief happily on his shoulder, holding tightly to his hair. The others were all there in the field. They had just come back from a shopping expedition, and Tinker’s eyes gleamed when he saw the various tinned meats and tinned fruits, fresh rolls, tomatoes and apples and bananas that had been brought back from the shops at Big Hollow.
Julian was glad to see that Tinker looked bright and cheerful. He was afraid that the boy might have sulked, and that would have spoilt things for the others.
‘Hi!’ said Tinker. ‘I’ve got news!’ And he proceeded to tell the others all about the happenings of the night before, ending up with his father solemnly going off to hide his morning newspapers under the coal at the back of the coal-cellar, under the impression that he was hiding the rest of his precious papers.
‘But why on earth didn’t you tell him he had left his valuable papers behind and hidden his newspapers?’ asked George.
‘Because if he knew that, he’d go and hide the precious papers somewhere, and forget where he’d put them - and they might be lost for ever!’ said Tinker.
‘Well, what are you going to do with them?’ asked Dick.
‘I’ve had rather a brain-wave,’ said Tinker, as modestly as he could. ‘Er - I thought that we’d hide them away ourselves, where nobody could possibly find them.’
‘And where is this wonderful hiding-place?’ asked Dick.
‘On Kirrin Island!’ said Tinker, triumphantly. ‘Who’d think of looking there? And as we shall all know the hiding-place, we can’t possibly forget it. The papers will be absolutely safe. Dad can get on with the rest of his ideas without worrying about anything.’
‘Have you told him all this?’ asked Julian.
‘Well, no,’ said Tinker. ‘Jenny thought we’d better just keep it to ourselves. She’s pretty certain the thieves will try their hand at breaking in to get the rest of the papers, though.’
‘Ha! Well, I vote we scribble some papers ourselves,’ said Dick. ‘Complete with wonderful diagrams, and all kinds of peculiar figurings and numberings. I feel I could do that very well! And we’d leave them up in the tower room for the thieves to take - they’d think they were the ones they’d missed!’
Everyone chuckled. ‘Ass!’ said Julian. ‘Still - it’s not a bad idea to leave something behind for the thieves that isn’t worth a moment’s look - and hide the genuine figures where they’d never dream of finding them - on Kirrin Island!’
‘When shall we go?’ asked George. ‘It’s ages since I’ve visited my island - and will you believe it, last time I rowed over, trippers had been there and left their beastly mess everywhere! Paper bags, broken glass, lettuce leaves, orange peel, ugh!’
‘Why DO people do that?’ asked Anne. ‘They’d hate to have to sit in the midst of other people’s mess - so why in the world can’t they clear up their own?’
‘Oh, they’re probably just like that in their own homes,’ said Dick. ‘All mess and litter - and yet it takes so little time to clear up a picnic mess, and leave the place decent for the next comers.’
‘What did you do with all the mess left on Kirrin Island?’ asked Julian.
‘I buried it deep in the sand at the back of one of the beaches,’ said George. ‘Where the tide can’t turn it all up again. And with every dig of my spade I said “Blow you, you awful trippers without manners, blow you - and next time you go anywhere, may you find someone else’s litter to make you feel sick. Blow you!”’
George looked and sounded so very fierce that everyone burst out laughing. Timmy sat there with his tongue lolling out, looking as if he were laughing too, and Mischief made a funny little noise rather like a giggle.
‘Good old George. She always says straight out what she thinks!’ said Julian.
They sat and talked over their plans for some time. ‘Dick and Julian had better make the fake plans and figures,’ said George. ‘They’d be better at that kind of thing than anyone else. And Tinker can plant them somewhere in his father’s tower room for the thief to take if he goes there again - and I bet he will. He found it easy enough last night!’
‘And George could take Tinker’s father’s papers with the correct figures and plans over to Kirrin Island,’ said Anne.
‘Not till night-time, though,’ said Dick. ‘If anyone were on the watch, and saw George rowing over there, they might guess she was taking something important to hide. They might be watching her father too. By the way - where are these papers? You did not leave them behind at home, did you, Tinker?’
‘I didn’t dare to,’ said Tinker. ‘I felt as if there might be eyes peeping at me, watching and hoping I’d go out and leave the papers behind. I’ve got them under my jersey, just here!’ And he patted the top of his stomach.
‘Oh - so that’s why you look as if you’ve had too much breakfast!’ said George. ‘Well - what shall our plans be?’
‘We’d better make out the false papers straight away, with figures and diagrams,’ said Julian. ‘Just in case the thieves come sooner than we think. Tinker, we’d better go into your house to do those. If we go to George’s, her father might spot us, and wonder what on earth we were doing. We’d probably be sent off, anyway, because of the scarlet-fever business.’
‘Well, what about my father?’ said Tinker. ‘He might spot us too. Anyway, he’s not keen on my having anyone there this week, because he’s so busy with his new invention. It’s awfully good, and...’
‘Tinker - don’t start spilling beans again!’ said Julian, warningly. ‘I say it would be best to go to your house.’
‘What about me going indoors and bringing out Dad’s big drawing-board, and some of his paper, and his mapping pens and ink, and doing the diagrams and things out here in the tent?’ said Tinker. ‘Honestly, I never know when Dad is going to come into my room. He’d wonder what on earth we were doing if he found us all there! We can have a good look at the papers I’ve got under my coat, and do a whole lot in the same style - not the same figures, naturally - and we could do some fancy diagrams too.’
‘All right,’ said Julian, giving way, as he saw that Tinker was genuinely afraid that his father might see them making the false papers. ‘Go and get the drawing-board and come back with it, and anything else we’ll need. You go with him, George.’
‘Right,’ said George, and she and Tinker went up Tinker’s garden to the house. Tinker scouted round to see if his father was anywhere about, but couldn’t see him. He found a large drawing-board, some big sheets of paper used by his father for working out his figures, and a book of odd, but easy-to-copy diagrams. He also brought mapping pens, Indian ink and blotting paper, and even remembered drawing-pins to pin the sheets of paper to the board. George carried half the things, and kept a sharp look-out for Tinker’s father.
‘It’s all right. He’s asleep somewhere - can’t you hear that noise?’ asked Tinker; and sure enough G
eorge could - a gentle snoring from some room not far off!
They went back down the garden and over the fence, handing everything to the others before they climbed over. ‘Good!’ said Julian. ‘Now we can produce some beautiful charts of figures that mean absolutely nothing at all - and diagrams that will look perfect and not mean a thing either!’
‘Better come into the tent,’ said George. ‘If anyone wanders down from the circus camp, they might ask us what we’re doing.’
So they all went into the boys’ big tent, which was the bigger one, Timmy too, and Mischief, who was delighted to be with the big dog. Julian soon set to work, though he found the space rather cramped. They were all watching him in admiration as he set out rows of beautiful, meaningless figures when Timmy suddenly gave a deep growl, and all his hackles rose up on his neck.
Julian turned the drawing-board over at once, and sat on it. The canvas doorway of the tent was pulled aside and in poked the grinning face of Charlie the Chimp!
‘Oh, it’s you, Charlie!’ said Julian. ‘Well, well, well, and how are you today?’
The chimpanzee grinned even more widely, and held out his hand. Julian shook it solemnly, and the chimpanzee went carefully all round the tent, shaking hands with everyone.
‘Sit down, Charlie,’ said Dick. ‘I suppose you’ve let yourself out of your cage as usual, and come to see what we’ve got for our dinner. Well, you’ll be glad to hear we’ve got enough for you as well as ourselves.’
Charlie squashed himself between Timmy and Tinker, and with much interest watched Julian at work with his pen and ink. ‘I bet that chimp could draw, if you gave him a piece of paper and a pencil,’ said Anne.
So, to keep him quiet, he was given a pencil, and a notebook. He at once began to scribble in it very earnestly.
‘Goodness - he’s doing a whole lot of funny figures,’ said Anne. ‘He’s trying to copy you, Ju!’