Jennings and His Friends

by Antony Buckeridge

  Mr Wilkins looked surprised for a moment. Then he said, "They must be on bus, some-where. Maybe they are upstairs!"

  "Upstairs! This is a single-decker bus, Wilkins."

  "Sorry, I didn't notice."

  "Well, really, Wilkins, why didn't you count them before?"

  "All right, all right, all right!" Mr Wilkins was getting angry. He jumped to his feet and called loudly, "Put your hands up, everybody! I want to see who is here."

  The Linbury boys put their hands up, and an old woman with a shopping bag put her hands up too: she was very frightened.

  "Quickly, now. Put up your hands all the boys who are not here," shouted Mr Wilkins. "Well, I mean, has anybody seen Jennings and Darbishire?"

  "Are you sure they are not here, sir?" asked Temple. ,

  "Of course I'm sure," said Mr Wilkins. I "They didn't put up their hands when I asked those who were here to put them up and they didn't put up their hands when I asked those who were not here to... oh, shut up!"

  Mr Wilkins wanted to do something at, once. He ran to the back door.

  "I say, conductor, stop the bus!" he cried. "You are going the wrong way - I mean, I want to get off!"

  "Please, Wilkins, come back to your seat," said Mr Carter calmly. "If we stop here on a country road two miles from the town and walk back it will already be dark, and I don't think we shall find the boys. Let's go back to school and telephone the station to see if they were still there." Mr Wilkins came back to his seat. "Maybe they left something on the train and went back to find it and the train took them to the next stop," guessed Mr Carter.

  "And where is the next stop?" asked M Wilkins.

  "It's only a local train. The next station is a little place which is called Pottlewhistle Halt."

  Soon the bus stopped near the school. When the boys got off the two teachers went to the telephone in Mr Carter's room. They telephoned Dunhambury Station, but the man there could not tell them anything about the two boys.

  "I'll go and tell the Headmaster at once,' said Mr Carter, "and if you want to do some thing you can telephone the next station and see if they got off there."

  "Yes, of course. I'll do it at once." And Mr Wilkins went to the telephone as the door closed behind Mr Carter.

  Chapter Sixteen

  A search-party for Jennings and Darbishire

  "The next station," thought Mr Wilkins, "will be... What is the name that Carter told me in the bus? Whistlepottle Halt?... Pottlewhistle Halt? Or is it Haltpottle Whistle?" Mr Wilkins couldn't be sure.

  "Well, it's either Whistlehalt Pottle or Pottlchalt Whistle," he said to himself and sat down with the receiver to his ear. "Hullo! Can you put me through to a station whose name is Whistlepott Horttle, please?.... What's that? There's no such place? Well, try Haltpottle Whistle, then... You can't find that place either?... Then try Haltwhistle Pottle... or Pittlewhostle Halt... Oh, you know what I mean?... Very good - that's more than I know."

  A few moments later Mr Wilkins heard the voice of the old porter.

  "Hullo, are you Whistlehalt Pott? Who is speaking? Whistlehalt Pott porter? Can you tell me whether the last train from Dunhambury stopped at Pottlewhistle Stop?... II stopped at Pottlewhistle Halt?... All right. Well, did you see if two boys in red-and-white school caps got off at the illation?"

  "Yes," said the voice of the porter. "I really saw two boys. They walked from the station to the wood after the train had left. But the strange thing is that I'm sure they didn't get off the train."

  "Thank you very much. Good-bye!" Mr Wilkins put down the receiver. "Well, now we know where they went. All we have to do now is to walk to the wood near Pottlewhatever-it-was, and meet them."

  He hurried to the Headmaster's room where he found Mr Pemberton and Mr Carter.

  "It's all right - I've found them," said Mr Wilkins. "I mean I know where they are."

  "Did you speak to Pottlewhistle Halt?" asked Mr Carter.

  "That's the name! Why didn't you tell me? Well, I spoke to the porter. He saw the boys walking to the wood."

  "It's very dark now," said the Headmaster, "and the boys may lose their way... if they knew it. But they have never known the way from Pottlewhistle Halt to the school."

  "I think if we have a search-party with torches and whistles, it will help us to find the boys," said Mr Carter.

  "You are right," said the Headmaster.

  Then the teachers decided that only the boys from the football team should be in the search-party.

  "They are still in their outdoor shoes and raincoats," said Mr Carter, "and they know who we are looking for and they have already had their tea in Bracebridge School."

  Five minutes later the ten football players were standing in the school yard.

  "We are going towards Pottlewhistle Halt," Mr Carter said to them. "Jennings and Darbishire are coming from Pottlewhistle Halt. You must all keep together. You must be able to hear each other's whistles and see each other's torches. Now, have you all got torches?"

  "I told them to go and take them," said Mr Wilkins, "because... Oh, I say. Carter, I haven't got a torch myself. I quite forgot to go and take one."

  "If only Wilkins could stay at home!" thought Mr Carter. "With his help we may lose some other boys before we find Jennings and Darbishire."

  But Mr Carter did not say so.

  "Has any boy got a torch to give Mr Wilkins?" he asked.

  "Yes, I have, sir," said Temple. "Here you are, sir; you can have this torch."

  "Thank you," said Mr Wilkins. "Are you sure you don't want it yourself?

  "Oh, no, sir, that's all right. I don't want it, sir,- it hasn't got a battery."

  "I... I... But you, silly little boy, what can I do with it?"

  "Let's go," said Mr Carter. "We have very little time. Let me count you."

  Mr Carter switched on his torch and counted; ten boys plus two teachers.

  "Let's go," he said and the search-party set out!

  * * *

  There was not one but many paths that lad to the road between Pottlewhistle Halt and Linbury. Jennings decided to take a short-ill, so the boys turned right, then left, then right again, and soon they understood that they were lost.

  "How many miles do you think we have already walked?" asked Darbishire. "I'm tired."

  "I don't really know. I think three or four," answered Jennings.

  "Are you sure we are going the right way?"

  "No, maybe we are walking round and round in circles," said Jennings. "It's so dark that I can't see anything. I can't see my hand in front of my face... Oh, Darbi! I've 1ost my glove again!"

  "You couldn't lose your glove again. You have never really lost it."

  Jennings turned and went back along the path. "It can't be very far away from here, I remember I had them five minutes ago," he thought.

  Darbishire went after him. "As we've lost our way, it doesn't matter which way we go," he thought.

  At that moment they heard a whistle - three long whistles.

  "I say, Darbi, did you hear a whistle?"

  "That wasn't a whistle: that was a bird," Darbishire decided.

  "But there were three of them!"

  "All right then, there were three birds; or the same bird whistled three times."

  "Oh, don't talk! Listen, there it is again!"

  The whistles were nearer now.

  "It's Mr Carter's referee whistle," said Jennings.

  "How can it be?" exclaimed Darbishire. "You are hearing things."

  "Of course I'm hearing things. I've heard Mr Carter's whistle."

  "No, I mean you're hearing things that aren't there. Maybe it's a mirage. But as it's too dark to see, you hear it," explained Darbishire.

  But some moments later the "mirage" was nearer. The boys heard the shouts and saw the light of torches. Then they heard Venables' voice, then Atkinson's, then... Mr Wilkins'!

  "All the team's there," Jennings said in surprise. "What are they doing miles away from Linbury? Maybe they are
looking for something too. I wonder what it can be!"

  "I think they were late for the bus and are walking back to school," explained Darbishire.

  "Maybe they also tried to take a short-cut and lost their way," said Jennings.

  "Let's go and join them," said Darbishire happily.

  "No, if we go and tell them our story Mr Wilkins will get very angry. Maybe they didn't notice that we were missing."

  "That's right, but what shall we do, then?" asked Darbishire.

  "We'll just join them, one at a time, and not say much. They won't notice in the dark. And when they find the way, we'll all come back to school. They will think that we have been with them all the time," Jennings explained his plan. "Go and join them, and I'll go after you."

  Chapter Seventeen

  Jennings finds his glove

  When the search-party came to the hill Mr Wilkins cried, "Keep together, you boys or you'll lose each other. And if any of you thinks that he hears something... Be quiet Venables, when I'm talking."

  "I was quiet, sir."

  "Well, don't be quiet so loudly. It's very difficult to keep together in the dark with-out... Now, where's Mr Carter?"

  "He is coming behind us. I heard his whistle a moment ago," said a voice in the dark-ness.

  "Good! I'll give an answering whistle," said Mr Wilkins. "But... I think I've left my whistle at school."

  "I can give you my whistle, sir," said an-other voice. "But it's a toy whistle - my aunt gave it to me last Christmas."

  "Never mind who gave it to you, if it works," said Mr Wilkins and took the whistle.

  At this time Mr Wilkins heard Mr Carter's three long whistles. Mr Wilkins decided to answer. He put the toy whistle to his lips and blew with all his strength. The boys around Mr Wilkins heard a thin peep-peep and laughed loudly.

  "Be quiet and listen to me," Mr Wilkins said angrily. "When we come to the top of this hill, half of you will go with Mr Carter to Haltpottle Whistle (he still could not remember the name) and the other half will come with me to... Who's that boy walking there? I've asked you to stand still."

  "I think it's Atkinson, sir," said Temple.

  But it wasn't Atkinson. It was Darbishire who was joining the search-party at that moment.

  "No, it's not me; I'm here, sir," Atkinson's voice said from the darkness.

  Mr Wilkins tried to see who it was, but could not.

  "I can't see who is here and who isn't. Stand still! I'm going to count you. "When he counted he pointed to each boy." One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven!"

  Eleven!

  "It can't be eleven. We had only ten when we left the school yard," thought Mr Wilkins.

  Mr Carter arrived at the moment. Jennings followed him, and joined the search-party as Mr Wilkins turned to Mr Carter for help.

  "I can't do anything with these boys, Carter! I'm trying to count them and they don't stand still."

  "Another boy was lost?" asked Mr Carter.

  "I don't think so," answered Mr Wilkins.

  "The last time I counted there were eleven of them. I'm going to count again. Stand still, please".

  Mr Wilkins began to count again. "One, two, three, four, five... I don't know whether I counted that boy over there. Is it you, Bromwich?"

  "I don't know, sir; I can't see," answered Bromwich.

  "You don't have to see, Bromo. You know if it's you, don't you?" said Venables.

  "Oh yes, this is me, but I don't know whether you've counted me, sir," Bromwich explained.

  Mr Wilkins began to count again.

  "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve!"

  Twelve!

  Well, certainly somebody has moved twice, or two boys have moved once," thought Mr Wilkins. "But as there are now more boys I'm sure no boy is lost, and we can continue to look for Jennings and Darbishire."

  The search-party moved slowly up the hill. They were looking for Jennings and Darbishire.

  That was not very easy because it was very dark. But they did not look behind them. If they had they could have seen the boys that they were looking for.

  At the top of the hill they all stopped.

  "I think this is the end of the path, Carter," said Mr Wilkins. "Now I wonder what lies over there."

  "It's the way back to Pottlewhistle Halt, sir," said Jennings.

  "Don't interrupt, boy, when I'm talking to Mr Carter, I've had enough of Whistlehalt Pott for one evening, and..."

  Mr Wilkins stopped. He had recognized the voice from the darkness. He was sure

  it was... But how could it be?

  "Which boy spoke a moment ago?" he asked loudly.

  "I did, sir," answered seven boys who were talking about how far cats could see in the dark.

  "No, no, no - not you, boys! Somebody else I was sure..." He turned again to Mr Carter. "I say, Carter, I'm hearing things. Somebody spoke a minute ago and I'm sure

  I was Jennings."

  A loud shout came from the darkness.

  "Qh, sir! Quick, sir! Come here, sir,- I've found something!"

  "Who's that?"

  "It's me, sir,-Temple. I've found a glove, sir."

  At once somebody switched on his torch and Temple read, "Jennings;"

  "I've found Jennings' glove!" he shouted.

  "Wonderful!" exclaimed the owner of the glove.

  But nobody heard him because all the boys were very happy that Temple had found Jennings' glove. Now they knew that they were on the right track.

  Mr Wilkins lost no time and said, "Let's shout together. Now! One, two, three..."

  "JENNINGS!" shouted everybody. "

  "Yes, sir?" said Jennings quickly. He was standing behind Mr Wilkins who was so surprised that he jumped up in the air.

  "I... I... I... Who spoke? Who said 'Yes, sir'?"

  '"Me, sir,- Jennings. I think you were calling me sir "

  "But. but..." Mr Wilkins could hardly speak. "You are standing here in the middle of us!"

  "Yes, sir. I wondered why you were shouting so loudly, sir."

  For some time Mr Wilkins' lips continued to move, but nobody could hear what he was saying. All the boys were surprised too. They gathered round Jennings.

  "I say, it's not really you, is it, Jen?" exclaimed Atkinson.

  "Of course it's me. And Darbi is somewhere here, too. We've been here for some time"

  "Why didn't you say so before?" asked Temple.

  "Well, nobody asked me before," explained Jennings.

  "If you want to know what I think, you're not supposed to be here because you are lost, and we are looking for you," said Bromwich.

  Mr Carter called Jennings and Darbishire, and they told him their story.

  "Well, I'm happy we've found you at last," said Mr Carter.

  "I'm happy too, sir, because I've found my glove. Matron is very angry when I lose my things."

  "I... I... Really, Carter, it's too much!" exclaimed Mr Wilkins. "People may think that we have nothing better to do all night than go in the dark..."

  "Never mind, Wilkins; we can go back home now," said Mr Carter.

  "Yes, yes, yes, I know. Carter, but, listen, we were looking for two silly little boys who were looking for a silly little glove!"

  "It's a nice glove," Jennings said to himself and put it on.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Let's be decent to old Wilkie

  It was late when the search-party got back to Linbury Court.

  Jennings and Darbishire had to go to the Headmaster's study where for twenty minutes they had a very unpleasant conversation with Mr Pemberton.

  "You will not go with the school team to an 'away' match again this term," the Headmaster said at the end of the conversation.

  "It's not so bad for you because you are not in the team," Jennings said to Darbishire when they came to the dormitory, "but there are four more matches during this term; and some of these schools give wonderful tea after the game."


  "Never mind," said Darbishire. "You'll have more time for our wall newspaper. The next issue must be ready very soon, now."

  "With a nice photo of the winning goal in the Bracebridge match, I think!" said Jennings with a smile. "You were a wonderful photographer, Darbi. You came when the game was half over, and didn't take any photos."

  "But we can write about the search-party," said Darbishire. "Jennings and Darbishire Find Search-Party! That will be a nice title, won't it? Or Search-Party Finds Jennings' Glove."

  Darbishire decided to write the titles in his exercise-book, but at that moment Mr Carter put out the dormitory light. Darbishire was only too happy - he wanted to sleep. And in the next bed Jennings, who did not want to sleep, was thinking about... yes, he was thinking about Mr Wilkins. "We must really be decent to Old Wilkie," he thought. "He is not bad, after all. That search-party was certainly too much for him. I'll try to work well during his lessons," he decided.

  "Darby," Jennings said suddenly.

  "Oh! Shut up!" came from the next bed. "I'm sleeping."

  "You are not sleeping. You can't talk when you are sleeping. Listen! You know we were wondering what we could write about in the next number of the Form Three Times?"

  "A fine time to wake me up!"

  "Yes, but listen! What will you think if I write some life-stories of famous people like Julius Caesar or Charles Dickens, for example?"

  "I'll think it strange."

  "Yes, but that's not all. I think it will make Old Wilkie happy."

  "Why do you think he will want to read, about Charles Dickens?" asked Darbishire in surprise.

  "No, you silly! We'll write about Old Wilkie In our Famous Lives, and maybe of other teachers too. We must really be decent to Old Wilkie."

  "Let's talk about it tomorrow, Jen. I am really sleeping already."

  * * *

  During the next four days Jennings and Darbishire did all they could to be decent to Mr Wilkins. They tried to mend his pen (it was not their fault that they could not do it), they woke him up early in the morning to show him Darbishire's new drawing, they once opened the door for him - they did it so quickly that Mr Wilkins nearly fell.