“I could do that,” she said.
“You!” said Pip scornfully. “You’d tell her right out all that we had done and found and everything! You can’t even keep the very smallest secret!”
“I don’t tell secrets now,” said Bets. “You know I don’t. I haven’t told a single secret since I was six years old.”
“Shut up, you two,” said Larry. “I think Daisy and Pip might go and see Mrs. Minns. Daisy is good at that
sort of thing, and Pip can keep a look out to see that Clear-Orf or Mr. Hick don’t come along and guess what Daisy is doing.”
“What shall I do, Larry?” asked Fatty, quite humbly, for once in a way.
“You and I could go and talk to the chauffeur,” said Larry. “He might let out something that would be useful to us. He usually washes down the car in the morning.”
“What about me?” said Bets, in dismay. “Aren’t I to do anything? I’m a Find-Outer too.”
“There’s nothing you can do,” said Larry.
Bets looked very miserable. Fatty was sorry for her. “We shan’t want Buster with us,” he said. “Do you think you could take him for a walk over the fields? He just loves a good rabbitty walk.”
“Oh yes, I could do that,” said Bets, brightening up at once. “I should like that. And, you never know, I might find a glue on the way.”
Everyone laughed. Bets simply could not remember the way to pronounce that word. “Yes – you go and find a really important glue,” said Larry. So Bets set off with Buster at her heels. She went down the lane towards the fields, and the others heard her telling Buster that he could look for rabbits and she would look for glues.
“Now then, to work!” said Larry, getting up. “Daisy, you and Pip go down to Mrs. Minns.” “What excuse shall we give for going to see her?” asked Daisy.
“Oh, you must think of something yourself,” said Larry. “Use your brains. That’s what detectives do. Pip will think of something, if you can’t.”
“Better not all go down the lane together,” said Pip. “You and Fatty go first, and see if you can find the chauffeur at work, and Daisy and I will come a bit later.” Larry and Fatty went off. They walked down the lane and came to Mr. Hick’s house, which stood a good way back in its own drive. The garage was at the side of the
house. A loud whistling came from that direction., and the sound of water.
“He’s washing the car,” said Larry, in a low voice. “Come on. We’ll pretend we want to see someone who doesn’t live here, and then ask if he’d like us to help him.”
The boys went down the drive together. They soon came in sight of the garage, and Larry went up to the young man who was hosing the car.
“Morning,” he said. “Does Mrs. Thompson live here?”
“No,” said the young man. “This is Mr. Hick’s house.”
“Oh,” said Larry, in a vexed tone. Then he stared at the car.
“That’s a fine car, isn’t it?” he said.
“Yes, it’s a Rolls Royce,” said the chauffeur. “Fine to drive. She’s very dirty today, though. I’ve got all my work cut out to get her clean before the master wants her this morning!”
“We’ll help you,” said Larry eagerly. “I’ll hose her for you. I often do it for my father.”
In less than a minute the two boys were at work helping the young chauffeur, and the talk turned on to the fire.
“Funny business that fire,” said the chauffeur, rubbing the bonnet of the car with a polishing cloth. “The master was properly upset about losing those valuable papers of his. And now they say it was a put-up job – some one did it on purpose! Well – Peeks did say that it was a wonder no one had given Mr. Hick a slap in the face for the way he treats everybody!”
“Who’s Peeks?” said Larry, pricking up his ears.
“Peeks was his manservant – sort of valet and secretary mixed,” said the chauffeur. “He’s gone now – went off the day of the fire.”
“Why did he go?” asked Fatty innocently.
“Got kicked out!” said the chauffeur. “Mr. Hick gave him his money, and he went! My word, there was a fine old quarrel between them, too!”
“Whatever about?” said Larry.
“Well, it seehis that Mr. Hick found out that Peeks sometimes wore his clothes,” said the chauffeur. “You see, he and the master were much of a size, and Peeks used to fancy hihiself a bit – I’ve seen him prance out in Mr. Hick’s dark blue suit, and his blue tie with the red spots, and his gold-topped stick too!”
“Oh,” said Fatty. “And I suppose when Mr. Hick found that out he was angry and told Peeks to go. Was Peeks very upset?”
“You bet he was!” said the chauffeur. “He came out to me, and the things he said about the master would make anybody’s ears burn. Then off he went about eleven o’clock. His old mother lives in the next village, and I guess she was surprised to see Horace Peeks marching in, baggage and all, at that time of the morning!”
The two boys were each thinking the same thing. “It looks as if Peeks burnt the cottage! We must find Peeks and see what he was doing that evening!”
There came a roar from a window overhead. “Thomas! Is that car done yet? What are you jabbering about down there? Do I pay you for jabbering? No, I do not.”
“That’s the master,” said Thomas, in a low tone. “You’d better clear out. Thanks for your help.”
The boys looked up at the window. Mr. Hick stood there, a cup of tea or cocoa in his hand, looking down furious—
ly.
“Mr. Hick and cup,” said Larry, with a giggle. “Dear old good-tempered Hiccup!”
Fatty exploded into a laugh. “We’ll call him Hiccup,” he said. “I say – we’ve got some news this morning, haven’t we! I bet it was Peeks, Larry. I bet it was!”
“I wonder how Daisy and Pip are getting on,” said Larry, as they went down the drive. “I believe I can hear them chattering away somewhere. I guess they won’t have such exciting news as we have!”
Mrs. Minns does a lot of Talking.
Daisy and Pip were getting on very well indeed. As they had stood outside Mr. Hick’s garden, debating what excuse they could make for going to the kitchen door, they had heard a little mew.
Daisy looked to see where the sound came from. “Did you hear that?” she asked Pip. The mew came again. Both children looked up into a tree, and there, unable to get down or up, was a small black and white kitten.
“It’s got stuck,” said Daisy. “Pip, can you climb up and get it?”
Pip could and did. Soon he was handing down the little creature to Daisy, and she cuddled it against her.
“Where does it belong ? ” she wondered.
“Probably to Mrs. Minns, the cook,” said Pip promptly. “Anyway, it will make a marvellous excuse for going to the kitchen door, and asking!”
“Yes, it will,” said Daisy, pleased. So the two of them set off down the drive, and went to the kitchen entrance, which was on the opposite side of the house to the garage.
A girl of about sixteen was sweeping the yard, and from the kitchen nearby there came a never-ending voice.
“And don’t you leave any bits of paper flying around my yard, either, Lily. Last time you swept that yard you left a broken bottle there, and half a newspaper and goodness knows what else! Why your mother didn’t teach you how to sweep and dust and bake, I don’t know! Women nowadays just leave their daughters to be taught by such as me, that’s got all their work cut out looking after a particular gentleman like Mr. Hick, without having to keep an eye on a lazy girl like you!”
This was all said without a single pause. The girl did not seem to be paying any attention at all, but went on
sweeping slowly round the yard, the dust flying before her.
“Hallo,” said Pip. “Does this kitten belong here?”
“Mrs. Minns!” shouted the girl. “Here’s some children with the kitten.”
Mrs. Minns appeared at the door. She was a round, fat woman, short and panting, with sleeves rolled up above her podgy elbows.
“Is this your kitten?” asked Pip again, and Daisy held it out to show the cook.
“Now where did it get to this time?” said Mrs. Minns, taking it, and squeezing it against her. “Sweetie! Sweetie! Here’s your kitten again! Why don’t you look after it better?”
A large black and white cat strolled out of the kitchen, and looked inquiringly at the kitten. The kitten mewed and tried to jump down.