Blyton, Enid – Famous Five 15 – Five On a Secret Trail

George’s father took it up. He ran his eyes over it, and then gave a loud exclamation.

‘Why – why – no, it’s IMPOSSIBLE! Good heavens, it’s – no, no, it can’t be! Am I dreaming?’

Everyone gazed at him, surprised and anxious. What did he mean? What could it be, this blue-print?

‘Er – it’s important then, sir?’ said the Inspector.

‘Important? IMPORTANT? My dear fellow, there are only two of these prints in existence – and at the moment I have the second one, which I am checking very carefully indeed. Where did this come from? Why – I simply can’t believe it! Sir James Lawton-Harrison has the other. There isn’t a third!’

‘But – but – there must be if you have one here and Sir James has the other!’ said the Inspector. ‘It’s obvious there is a third!’

‘You’re wrong. It isn’t obvious!’ shouted George’s father. ‘What is obvious is that Sir James hasn’t got his! I’ll ring him up – this very minute. Astounding! Most disturbing! Bless us all, what will happen next?’

The children did not dare to say a word. They were full of astonishment. To think that the blue-print was so important – and that George’s father actually had a pair to this one. What was its importance?

They heard George’s father shouting into the telephone, evidently angry and disturbed. He slammed it down and came back.

‘Yes. Sir James’s copy has been stolen – but it’s been kept very hush-hush because of its importance. Good heavens – they never even let me know! And to think I spilt a bottle of ink over mine yesterday – gross carelessness. Stolen! A thing like that – stolen out of his safe under his very nose. Now there’s only one copy left!’

‘Two, sir,’ said the Inspector, tapping the copy on the table. ‘You’re so upset to hear that Sir James’s copy has gone that you’ve forgotten we have it here!’

‘Bless us all! Thank goodness! Yes, I had forgotten for the moment!’ said Uncle Quentin. ‘My word, I even forgot to tell Sir James it was here.’ He leapt up to go to the telephone again, but the Inspector caught his arm.

‘No, sir. Don’t telephone again. I think we should keep this as quiet as possible.’

‘Father – what is this a blue-print of?’ said George, voicing the thoughts of everyone there, the Inspector included.

‘This blue-print? I’m certainly not going to tell you!’ said her father. ‘It’s too big a thing even to speak of to you children – or the Inspector either for that matter. It’s one of the biggest secrets we have. Here, give it to me.’

The Inspector placed his big hand on it at once. ‘No, sir. I think I must take it with me, and send a secret messenger to Sir James with it. It wouldn’t do to have the only two copies in one place. Why, your house might catch fire and both prints might go up in flames!’

‘Take it, then, take it! We can’t possibly risk such a thing!’ said George’s father. He glared round at the children. ‘I still don’t understand how you came to possess it!’ he said, looking suddenly amazed.

‘Sit down, sir, won’t you, and listen to their tale,’ said the Inspector. ‘They’ve done very well. They haven’t finished their story.’

Julian went on with it. The Inspector sat up straight when he heard where the the three men were – down in the great pit below the Roman camp.

‘You saw them go down into that pit?’ he said.

‘Watched them swing down on the rope? They may be there now!’ He glanced at his watch. ‘No, they won’t. They’ll be gone.’

He groaned loudly. ‘And to think we might easily have caught three clever rogues. They’ve slipped through our hands again!’

‘They haven’t!’ said Julian, his voice rising exultantly. ‘They’re still there!’

‘How do you know?’ said the Inspector.

‘Because I pulled up their rope and took it away – look, I’ve got it round me!’ said Julian. ‘They can’t get out without a rope – and they won’t know how to escape any other way. They’re still there – waiting for you, Inspector!’

The Inspector slapped the table so hard that everyone jumped and the two dogs barked.

‘Good work!’ he boomed. ‘Magnificent! I must go at once and send some men out there. I’ll let you know what happens!’

And out he went at a run, the precious blue-print buttoned safely in his pocket. He leapt into the driving-seat and the police-car roared away at top speed down the lane.

‘Whew!’ said Julian, flopping back into his chair. ‘It’s too exciting for words!’

Everyone felt the same, and began to talk at the tops of their voices. Poor Aunt Fanny couldn’t make herself heard. But when Joan came in and asked if anyone wanted anything to eat, they heard her at once!

The doctor came to see Guy’s foot, and re-bandaged it. ‘Rest it for a day or two,’ he said. ‘It will soon be all right.’

‘Well, you’ll have to stay here with George and the others, Guy,’ said George’s mother. ‘You can’t go excavating in that camp of yours again yet. Harry can stay too. So can Jet.’

The twins beamed. They liked this jolly family, and the adventurous life they seemed to lead. It would be fun to stay with them for a while. They thought it would be even more fun, when Joan arrived with a truly wonderful meal!

‘Home-made veal-and-ham-pie! Stuffed tomatoes! And what a salad – what’s in it, Joan? Radishes, cucumber, carrot, beetroot, hard boiled eggs, tomatoes, peas – Joan, you’re a marvel! What is the pudding?’

Soon they were all sitting down enjoying themselves, and talking over their adventure. Just as they were finishing, the telephone bell rang. Julian went to answer it. He came back looking thrilled.

‘That was the Inspector. They’ve got all three men! When they got to the pit, one of the men called up for help – said some idiot of a boy or some hoaxer must have taken their rope away. So the police – all in plain-clothes, so that of course the three men suspected nothing – the police let down a rope, and up came the men one by one…’

‘And were arrested as soon as they popped out of the hole, I suppose!’ said George, delighted. ‘Oh, I wish I’d been there! What a joke!’

‘The Inspector’s awfully pleased with us,’ said Julian. ‘And so is Sir James Lawton-Harrison too, apparently. We’re to get a reward – very hush-hush, though. We mustn’t say anything about it. There’s to be something for each of us.’

‘And for Timmy too?’ said George at once.

Julian looked round at Timmy. ‘Well, I can see what old Timmy ought to ask for,’ he said. ‘A new cardboard collar. He’s scratching his ear to bits!’

George screamed and rushed to bend over Timmy. She lifted a woebegone face. ‘Yes! He’s scratched so hard he’s made his ear bad again. Oh Timmy! You really are a fatheaded dog! Mother! Mother! Timmy’s messed up his ear again!’

Her mother looked into the room. ‘Oh George, what a pity! I told you not to take off that collar till his ear was absolutely healed!’

‘It’s maddening!’ said George. ‘Now everyone will laugh at him again.’

‘Oh no they won’t,’ said Julian, and he smiled at George’s scowling face. ‘Cheer up – it’s a very peculiar thing, George – this adventure began with Timmy and a cardboard collar – and bless me if it hasn’t ended with Timmy and a cardboard collar. Three cheers for old Timmy!’

Yes – three cheers for old Timmy! Get your ear well before the next adventure, Tim – you really can’t wear a cardboard collar again!