‘It’s you, Jock!’ said an astonished voice, rough and impatient. ‘What are you doing out here at this time of night?’
‘Well, what are you doing?’ demanded Jock, wriggling free. He switched on his own torch and let the light fall on the man who had caught him. It was Peters, one of the farm men, the one in whose lorry he had ridden that very day.
‘What’s it to do with you?’ said Peters, angrily. ‘I had a breakdown, and I’ve only just got back. Look here – you’re fully dressed! Where have you been at this time of night? Did you hear me come in and get up to see what was happening?’
‘You never know!’ said Jock cheekily. He wasn’t going to say anything that might make Peters suspicious of him. ‘You just never know!’
‘Is that Biddy?’ said Peters, seeing a dark shadow slinking away. ‘Do you mean to say you’ve been out with Biddy? What in the world have you been doing?’
Jock thanked his lucky stars that Peters hadn’t
spotted it was Timmy, not Biddy. He moved off without saying another word. Let Peters think what he liked! It was bad luck, though, that Peters had had a breakdown and come in late. If the man told his stepfather he’d seen Jock, fully dressed in the middle of the night, there’d be questions asked by both his mother and his stepfather, and Jock, who was a truthful boy, would find things very difficult to explain.
He scuttled off to bed, climbing up the pear-tree outside his window, and dropping quietly into his room. He opened his door softly to hear if anyone was awake in the house, but all was dark and silent.
‘Blow Peters!’ thought Jock. ‘If he splits on me, I’m for it!’
He got into bed, pondered over the curious happenings of the night for a few minutes, and then slid into an uneasy sleep, in which spook-trains, Peters, and Timmy kept doing most peculiar things. He was glad to awake in the bright, sunny morning and find his mother shaking him.
‘Get up, Jock! You’re very late. Whatever’s made you so sleepy? We’re half-way through breakfast!’
Peters, apparently, didn’t say anything to Jock’s stepfather about seeing Jock in the night. Jock was very thankful. He began to plan how to slip off to the others at the camp. He’d take them some food! That would be a fine excuse.
‘Mum, can I take a basket of stuff to the campers?’ he said, after breakfast. They must be running short now.’
‘Well, that boy is coming,’ said his mother. ‘What’s his name – Cecil something? Your stepfather says he’s such a nice boy. You did enjoy your day with him yesterday, didn’t you?’
Jock would have said quite a lot of uncomplimentary things about dear Cecil if his stepfather had not been there, sitting by the window reading the paper. As it was, he shrugged his shoulders and made a face, hoping that his mother would understand his feelings. She did.
‘What time is Cecil coming?’ she said. ‘Perhaps there’s time for you to run to the camp with a basket.’
‘I don’t want him running off up there,’ said Mr Andrews, suddenly butting into the conversation, and putting down his newspaper. ‘Cecil may be here at any minute-and I know what Jock is! He’d start talking to those kids and forget all about coming back. Cecil’s father is a great friend of mine, and Jock’s got to be polite to him, and be here to welcome him. There’s to be no running off to that camp today.’
Jock looked sulky. Why must his stepfather suddenly interfere in his plans like this? Rushing him off to the town, making him take Cecil for a friend! Just when some other children had come into his rather lonely life and livened it up, too! It was maddening.
‘Perhaps I can go up to the camp myself with some food,’ said his mother, comfortingly. ‘Or maybe the children will come down for some.’
Jock was still sulky. He stalked out into the yard and went to look for Biddy. She was with her pups who were now trying to crawl round the shed after her. Jock hoped the campers would come to fetch food themselves that day. Then at least he would get a word with them.
Cecil arrived by car. He was about the same age as Jock, though he was small for twelve years old. He had curly hair which was too long, and his grey flannel suit was very, very clean and well-pressed.
‘Hallo!’ he called to Jock. ‘I’ve come. What shall we play at? Soldiers?’
‘No. Red Indians,’ said Jock, who had suddenly remembered his old Red Indian head-dress with masses of feathers round it, and a trail of them falling down the back. He rushed indoors, grinning. He changed into the whole suit, and put on his head-dress. He took his paint-box and hurriedly painted a frightful pattern of red, blue and green on his face. He found his tomahawk and went downstairs. He would play at Red Indians, and scalp that annoying Pale-Face!
Cecil was wandering round by himself. To his enormous horror, as he turned a corner, a most terrifying figure rose up from behind a wall, gave a horrible yell and pounced on him, waving what looked like a dangerous chopper.
Cecil turned and fled, howling loudly, with Jock leaping madly after him, whooping for all he was worth, and thoroughly enjoying himself. He had had to play at soldiers all the day before with dear Cecil. He didn’t see why Cecil shouldn’t play Red Indians all day with him today!
Just at that moment, the four campers arrived to fetch food, with Timmy running beside them. They stopped in amazement at the sight of Cecil running like the wind, howling dismally, and a fully-dressed and painted Red Indian leaping fiercely after him.
Jock saw them, did a comical wardance all round them, much to Timmy’s amazement, yelled dramatically, pretended to cut off Timmy’s tail and then tore after the vanishing Cecil.
The children began to laugh helplessly. ‘Oh dear!’ said Anne, with tears of laughter in her eyes, ‘that must be Cecil he’s after. I suppose this is Jock’s revenge for having to play soldiers all day with him yesterday.
Look, there they go round the pig-sty. Poor Cecil. He really thinks he’s going to be scalped!’
Cecil disappeared into the farm kitchen, sobbing, and Mrs Andrews ran to comfort him. Jock made off back to the others, grinning all over his war-painted face.
‘Hallo,’ he said. ‘I’m just having a nice quiet time with dear Cecil. I’m so glad to see you. I wanted to come over, but my stepfather said I wasn’t to -1 must play with Cecil. Isn’t he frightful?’
‘Awful,’ everyone agreed.
‘I say, will your mother be furious with you for frightening Cecil like that? Perhaps we’d better not ask her for any food yet?’ said Julian.
‘Yes, you’d better wait a bit,’ said Jock, leading them to the sunny side of the haystack they had rested by before. ‘Hallo, Timmy! Did you get back all right last night?’
Jock had completely forgotten that the girls didn’t know of the happenings of the night before. Both Anne and George at once pricked up their ears. Julian frowned at Jock, and Dick gave him a secret nudge.
‘What’s up?’ said George, seeing all this by-play. ‘What happened last night?’
‘Oh, I just came up to have a little night-talk with the boys – and Timmy walked back with me,’ said Jock, airily. ‘Hope you didn’t mind him coming, George.’
George flushed an angry red. ‘You’re keeping something from me,’ she said to the boys. ‘Yes, you are. I know you are. I believe you went off to the railway yard last night! Did you?’
There was an awkward silence. Julian shot an annoyed look at poor Jock, who could have kicked himself.
‘Go on – tell me,’ persisted George, an angry frown
on her forehead. ‘You beasts! You did go! And you never woke me up to go with you! Oh, I do think you’re mean!’
‘Did you see anything?’ said Anne, her eyes going from one boy to another. Each of the girls sensed that there had been some kind of adventure in the night.
‘Well,’ began Julian. And then there was an interruption. Cecil came round the haystack, his eyes red with crying. He glared at Jock.
‘Your father wants you,’ he said. ‘You’re to go at once. You’re a beast, and I want to go home. Can’t you hear your father yelling for you? He’s got a stick -but I’m not sorry for you! I hope he whacks you hard!’
12 George loses her temper
Jock made a face at Cecil and got up. He went slowly off round the haystack, and the others listened in silence for whacks and yells. But none came.