“I want to report something important to somebody in authority,” said Philip. “Who’s the head man here?”
“I’m the constable here,” said the policeman. “Who are you, and what do you want? You can report to me.”
“I want to use the telephone,” said Philip, thinking it would be a good thing to get into touch with Bill at once. “Will you get a number for me, please?”
“Here, here — you can’t go using our police phones without good cause,” said the policeman, beginning to feel that this straw-strewn boy was mad. “What’s your name, and where do you live?”
“My name is Philip Mannering,” said Philip impatiently. “Don’t hold me up, please. I’ve very important things to report to somebody.”
The name caught the policeman’s attention at once. “Philip Mannering?” he said. “Here — are you one of the missing children? There’s four been missing for days. You one of them?”
He drew a leaflet from a drawer and looked at it. He passed it across to Philip. To the boy’s surprise he saw a photograph of himself, Lucy-Ann, Jack and Dinah — and Kiki too, of course — at the head of the paper, and their names and descriptions underneath.
“Yes — I’m that boy,” he said, pointing to his photograph. “Philip Mannering. And I want to get into touch with Bill Smugs — no, his real name’s Cunningham, of course — at once. It’s MOST IMPORTANT.”
The policeman suddenly got very busy. He took up the receiver of the phone. He barked a number into it, which he got at once. He evidently got on to somebody in high authority immediately.
“Sir, one of the missing children has just turned up here — Philip Mannering — wants to report something to Detective Inspector Cunningham. Yes, sir. I will, sir.” He turned to Philip.
“Are the other children with you?”
“No — but they’re all right — so far,” said Philip. “I’ve escaped and I want help to rescue them. Can I get on to Bill Cunningham, please?”
The policeman spoke into the telephone. “The other children are all right, but not with him. Please notify Mrs. Mannering. More news to follow. When will the Inspector be here?”
The policeman put the receiver down and gazed in a very pleased manner at Philip. To think that this exciting case of Missing Children should be reported to his little station!
“Where am I?” asked Philip suddenly. “What is this place called?”
“Don’t you know?” said the policeman, surprised. “It’s Gairdon, on the north-east coast of Scotland.”
“I guessed that’s about where I’d be,” said Philip. “Sorry I can’t tell you anything, constable — but I think I’d better wait for Bill.”
Bill came — in his aeroplane! He landed at the nearest aerodrome, took a fast police car, and arrived at Gairdon in two hours’ time. Very good going. Philip heard the car roaring up and ran to meet it.
“Bill! I knew you’d come! Oh, Bill — I’ve got the most exciting news for you! I don’t know where to begin.”
Chapter 30
BILL GETS BUSY
BILL swung out of the car, took hold of Philip by the arm and had a good look at him. “You’re all right?” he demanded. “All of you? Your mother’s been nearly off her head with worry.”
“I’m all right, Bill, so’s everybody. But we’ve fallen right into the middle of a most extraordinary adventure,” said Philip. “I must tell you quickly. We’ve got to get busy. You see . . .”
“Come into the police station,” said Bill. Philip followed the burly figure, full of relief to hear his determined voice, and to see his strong, clever face.
Soon the whole story was being poured out. Bill listened in amazement, occasionally rapping out a sharp question. When he heard how Philip had taken the statue out of the crate and put himself in its place, and was taken to the railway station, he burst out laughing.
“I never in my life knew children like you! Whatever will you do next? I can’t cope with you. But, joking apart, this is a most extraordinary thing, Philip, most amazing. The men you got caught up with are the very men I’d been after for some time. We couldn’t find out what they were up to — though we knew jolly well they were up to no good.”
“Really?” said Philip, astonished. “By the way, Bill — that night we were to go with you in your plane — and got into the wrong one — we heard shots. Was that anything to do with you?”
“It was,” said Bill grimly. “It so happened that two of the men were spotted there, and detained. They shot their way out — and that was what you heard. I nearly got a bullet in my leg. I can tell you, we shall be very glad to get our hands on them and have something to charge them with. Clever rogues! They are South Americans, in touch with the old Nazis, who have told them the whereabouts of many of the lost or hidden treasures in Europe. Many of them have never been found, you know.”
“Gosh — you wait till you see our treasure caves!” said Philip. “Oh — by the way, here’s a notebook I pinched from one of the men’s coats.”
He handed it over. Bill squinted at it, and his eyes nearly fell out of his head.
“I say — my word! — look here — this is a code — the code the rascals use — and a list of all the people concerned in this racket — with their addresses in code! Philip, you deserve a medal. This is a first-class find. We can round up the whole gang.”
Philip was delighted at Bill’s pleasure. Bill got up and went to the telephone. He made many calls, short, sharp and to the point. Philip listened but could not make much of them. He hoped Bill would soon set off to rescue the others. They would be waiting most anxiously.
Bill put down the telephone receiver at last. “We’re taking my aeroplane and another, and twelve men counting myself,” he said. “Starting at twelve.”
“I’m going too, aren’t I?” said Philip anxiously.
“I think you’d better stay and see your mother,” said Bill. “And also — there may be a bit of a dust-up, you know, when we get there.”
Philip stared at him in the greatest indignation. “Bill! The others will be there — Jack and the rest — and you’d keep me out of it? Didn’t I come here, didn’t I . . .”
“All right, all right, old son,” said Bill. “You shall come. Goodness knows what further adventure you’d get into if I left you behind.”
Philip cheered up at once. He took Lizzie out of his pocket and introduced her to Bill. “Meet busy dizzy Lizzie,” he said, and Lizzie ran on to Bill’s knee.
“Sounds like Kiki’s make-up,” said Bill. “Busy dizzy Lizzie! What a name for a lizard!”
“I suppose we can’t get anything to eat here, can we?” asked Philip, wondering if there were ever any eatables at a police station. “I’ve had chocolate to nibble at times, but that’s all.”
“I was going to suggest that we should ask the good constable here to provide us with a really slap-up meal,” said Bill. “We could go to the hotel, but you don’t look very presentable at the moment — you seem to exude bits of straw from top to toe. We’ll have a good meal and then give you a wash and brush-up.”
The wind got up as they ate their meal. Bill stared out of the window. “Hope this wind dies down,” he said. “Looks a bit stormy to me.”
Bill was right. Just before it was time for them to set off in the car to the aerodrome, the telephone rang. Bill answered it. He listened gravely and turned to Philip.
“There’s a gale warning out,” he said. “Afraid it’s no good starting off yet, Philip. Very stormy weather where we want to go.”
“Blow!” said Philip, disappointed and anxious. “The others will be so worried, waiting and waiting for us.”
“Yes, they will,” said Bill. “But the aerodrome doesn’t give out warnings like this without reason. They are apparently expecting one of those sudden gale-storms that mean a plane must fly absolutely blind. Not so funny. We’ll have to wait a bit.”
Philip looked upset. It would be too awful if those men got back before they did and perhaps caught the others. And he did so badly want Bill to catch the men red-handed — wanted him to get there before them, and wait for them to come again and take away the treasures.
“By the way, Bill — how do you know where to fly to?” he asked suddenly. “I didn’t know what the valley was — or where — except that it is in Austria.”