“There might be,” said Jack, airily. “Why have you come here?”
“I’m an ornithologist,” said the man, very earnestly. “You won’t know what that means, of course.”
Jack grinned to himself. Considering that he and Philip thought themselves very fine ornithologists, this amused him. But he wasn’t going to let this man know that.
“Orni — orn — ornibologist?” he said innocently. “What’s that?”
“Well, my lad, it’s a student of bird life,” said the man. “A bird-lover, one who wants to know all he can about birds and their ways.”
“Is that why you’ve come here, then — to study birds?” asked Lucy-Ann, thinking she ought to say something. Her knees had stopped shaking and feeling funny, now that she saw the man was not at all fearsome.
“Yes. I’ve been to this island before, years and years ago, when I was a lad,” said the man. “And I wanted to come again, though I had a job finding it. I was surprised to see your smoke going up. What’s it for? Playing at shipwrecked sailors, or something? I know what children are.”
It was plain that the man knew very little about children, and thought the two to be much younger than they were. “He’ll be reciting ‘Humpty Dumpty’ to us in a moment,” thought Jack, with a private grin.
“Do you know a lot about birds?” said Jack, not answering the man’s question.
“Well, I don’t know a great deal about sea-birds,” said the man. “That’s why I’ve come to these islands again. I know more about ordinary birds.”
“Aha!” thought Jack, “he says that because he is afraid I’ll ask him a few questions about the birds here.”
“We’ve got two tame puffins,” said Lucy-Ann suddenly. “Would you like to see them?”
“Oh very much, my dear, very much,” said the man, beaming at her. “By the way, my name is Tipperlong — Horace Tipperlong.”
“Tripalong?” said Lucy-Ann, with a giggle, thinking it was a very good name for this man, who walked with curious mincing steps. Jack wanted to laugh.
“No, no — Tipperlong,” said Horace, and smiled all over his face at Lucy-Ann. “What is your name?”
“My name’s Lucy-Ann,” she said. “And my brother’s name is Jack. Are you coming to see the puffins? It’s this way.”
“I should also like to meet whoever is in charge of you,” said Mr. Horace Tipperlong. “And — er — where is your boat? Didn’t you come in a boat?”
“It was smashed up in a storm,” said Jack solemnly. Mr. Tipperlong tut-tutted with sympathy.
“How dreadful! Then how were you going to get back home?”
“Look out,” said Jack, just saving Horace as he was about to plunge down a puffin’s burrow. “This place is undermined by the puffins. Mind where you go!”
“My word — what a lot of birds!” said Horace Tipperlong, standing still. He had been so engrossed in polite talk that he did not seem to have noticed the amazing colony of puffins. Another black mark against him! Jack could not believe that a real ornithologist would walk half-way through the puffins without exclaiming at them.
“Extraordinary! Most astonishing! I don’t remember ever seeing so many birds together before,” said Horace. “And all those thousands on the cliffs too. Well, well, well! And do you mean to say you really have got two tame puffins? I can hardly believe it.”
“They’re Philip’s,” said Lucy-Ann, and then could have bitten out her tongue.
“I thought you said your brother’s name was Jack,” said Horace enquiringly.
“She must have made a mistake,” said Jack, saying the first thing he could think of. They were getting very near the entrance of the underground hole now. Look out, Mr. Horace Tipperlong!
Lucy-Ann began to feel nervous. Suppose this man Tripalong, or whatever his name was, didn’t fall into the hole when Jack tripped him — suppose instead he went for Jack? Suppose — well, suppose he had a revolver? He didn’t look a desperate sort of man, but you never knew. Lucy-Ann looked at the pockets of his shorts to see if she could spy anything like a lump in the shape of a revolver there.
But his pockets were so bulged out with dozens of things that it was impossible to tell. Jack nudged her. “Keep out of the way now,” he said in a very low voice. Lucy-Ann obediently slipped behind, her heart beating fast.
Jack came to the entrance of the hole. A stick marked it as usual, for it really was almost impossible to find without some sort of signpost. Horace tripped along, looking short-sightedly through his dark glasses — and then, to his enormous astonishment, Jack put out a leg, rushed him, and tripped him right over. He fell at the side of the hole — but before he could get up, Jack had given him a shove — and right into the hole he went, crash!
Jack had a stout stick in his hand, which he had picked from the pile beside the bonfire. He parted the heather and looked into the hole. In the dim light he could see Horace Tipperlong sitting up, and he heard him groaning.
Tipperlong looked up and saw Jack. “You wicked boy!” he said angrily. “What do you mean by this?”
His glasses had fallen off in his headlong dive. His eyes certainly did not look very fierce. They looked rather weak and watery. He held his head as if he had hurt it.
“Sorry,” said Jack, “but it had to be done. Either you caught us — or we caught you. We needn’t go on pretending any more. We know quite well what gang you belong to.”
“What are you talking about?” cried the man, and he stood up. His head popped out of the hole. Jack raised his stick at once.
“Get back!” he said fiercely. “You’re our prisoner. You took Bill, didn’t you? — well, now we’ve taken you. If you attempt to clamber out, I shall hit you on the head with this. You just try it.”
Horace hastily retreated. Lucy-Ann looked white and scared. “Oh Jack — is he hurt? Jack, you won’t really hit him, will you?”
“I jolly well will,” said Jack. “Think of Bill, Lucy-Ann — and our poor Lucky Star — and us stranded here because of this fellow and his precious friends. Don’t you realise that if he gets out and back to his boat, they’ll send heaps more, and won’t rest till they’ve got us? Don’t be feeble!”
“Well — I don’t want to see you hit him,” said Lucy-Ann. “Dinah wouldn’t mind a bit, but I’m not strong-minded like Dinah.”
“Look here — will you kindly tell me what all this nonsense is about?” shouted Horace. “I never heard of such a thing! Here I come to a bird-island, which, as far as I know, certainly isn’t a crime — and you two kids lead me here, trip me up, and shove me down this hole. I’ve hurt my head badly. And now you say if I try to get out, you’ll brain me. You nasty little creatures!”
“I’m really very sorry about it,” said Jack again, “but there wasn’t anything else to be done. You will realise that with our boat gone — and Bill disappeared — we had to get a boat somehow. We can’t stay here for the rest of our lives.”
Horace was so amazed and upset at this speech that he stood up again. He sat down hurriedly when he saw Jack’s stick. “But look here — do you really mean to say you’re now going to take my boat? I never heard such brazen cheek. You wait till I get hold of the people in charge of you, my boy — you’ll get the worst hiding you’ve ever had in your life.”
Chapter 21
HORACE DOES NOT LIKE PUFFIN ISLAND
“LUCY-ANN — see if you can spot either Philip or Dinah,” ordered Jack. “Philip will probably be in the boat, ready to start her up, if need be — but Dinah will possibly be looking out to see if there is any sign from us.”
Lucy-Ann stood up. She saw Dinah standing way off, waiting anxiously at the top of the cleft in the cliff. Philip was not to be seen. Presumably he was down in the boat.
Lucy-Ann waved violently. “It’s all right. We’ve got him in the hole!” she yelled.
Dinah waved back, then disappeared. She had gone to tell Philip. Soon the two appeared again, and came through the puffin colony at top speed to hear what had happened.
“We got him,” said Jack proudly. “Easy as pie. Down he went, plonk!”
“Who’s there?” enquired Horace plaintively. “Is that somebody else? Look here — you’ve just got to tell me what’s going on here. I’m all at sea.”
“That’s where we’ll be soon, I hope,” grinned Jack. “And in your boat! Philip, meet Mr. Horace Tripalong.”