Five On A Treasure Island - by Enid Blyton

     Five On A Treasure Island

           

            Famous Five 01

            Enid Blyton

            CONTENTS

             1 A great surprise

             2 The strange cousin

             3 A queer story—and a new friend

             4 An exciting afternoon

             5 A visit to the island

             6 What the storm did

             7 Back to Kirrin cottage

             8 Exploring the wreck

             9 The box from the wreck

             10 An astonishing offer

             11 Off to Kirrin island

             12 Exciting discoveries

             13 Down in the dungeons

             14 Prisoners!

             15 Dick to the rescue!

             16 A plan—and a narrow escape

            * 17 The end of the great adventure

           

            The FAMOUS FIVE are

            Julian, Dick, George (Georgina by right),

            Anne, and Timothy the dog.

            This is the story how the ‘Famous Five’

            came into being, and of their very first adventure

            together.

            And what an andventure it was—involving an

            island, a ruined castle, an ancient wreck—and

            a desperate treasure hunt! The children’s pluck

            and recourcefulness saved the family fortunes

            and made possible many more exciting

            expeditions for the Five.

            Book

 Chapter One

 

 A GREAT SURPRISE

 

            Contents/Next

            “Mother, have you heard about our summer holidays yet?” said Julian, at the breakfast-table. “Can we go to Polseath as usual?”

            “I’m afraid not,” said his mother. “They are quite full up this year.”

            The three children at the breakfast-table looked at one another in great disappointment. They did so love the house at Polseath. The beach was so lovely there, too, and the bathing was fine.

            “Cheer up,” said Daddy. “I dare say we’ll find somewhere else just as good for you. And anyway, Mother and I won’t be able to go with you this year. Has Mother told you?”

            “No!” said Anne. “Oh, Mother—is it true? Can’t you really come with us on our holidays? You always do.”

            “Well, this time Daddy wants me to go to Scotland with him,” said Mother. “All by ourselves! And as you are really getting big enough to look after yourselves now, we thought it would be rather fun for you to have a holiday on your own too. But now that you can’t go to Polseath, I don’t really quite know where to send you.”

            “What about Quentin’s?” suddenly said Daddy. Quentin was his brother, the children’s uncle. They had only seen him once, and had been rather frightened of him. He was a very tall, frowning man, a clever scientist who spent all his time studying. He lived by the sea—but that was about all that the children knew of him!

Mystery 15 - The Mystery of Banshee Towers

Enid Blyton: The Mystery of Banshee Towers (Mystery #15)

1 - OFF TO MEET OLD FATTY

"I do wish old Fatty would buck up and come back from wherever he's staying," said Bets. "We've had almost a week of the holidays without him already - such a waste!"
"He's coming back today," said Pip, passing a postcard across the breakfast-table to his young sister. "Here's a card from him. Three cheers!" Bets read the card out loud. "Back tomorrow by bus from Warling. Meet me at bus stop if you can. What about a nice juicy mystery? I feel just about ready for one. Fatty."
"A nice juicy what?" said her mother, puzzled. "Mystery," said Bets, her eyes shining. "You know how something always seems to happen when Fatty's about, Mother - there was the mystery of the Pantomime Cat - and the mystery of the Vanished Prince - and..." Her father groaned. "Look, Bets - I'm tired of all these adventures and strange happenings that seem to pop up whenever your friend Frederick is about. Just try and steer clear of any trouble these holidays. I was hoping that Frederick was staying away for a nice long time."
"I wish you wouldn't call him Frederick, Daddy," said Bets. "It does sound so silly."
"I should have thought that Frederick was a much better name for a boy in his teens, than the absurd name of Fatty," said her father. "I wonder Frederick allows people to call him by that old nickname now."
"But Fatty is fat, and the name suits him," said Pip. "Anyway I don't think my nickname is very suitable for me now that I'm a bit older. Why can't I be called by my proper name of Philip, instead of Pip?"
"Simply because you're a bit of pip-squeak still and probably always will be," said his father, disappearing behind his newspaper. Bets gave a sudden laugh, and then a groan as Pip kicked her under the table. "Pip!" said his mother warningly. Bets changed the subject hurriedly. She didn't want Pip to get into any trouble the very day that Fatty came home. "Mother, where's the bus time-table?" she said. "I'd like to find out what time old Fatty's bus arrives."
"Well, seeing that there are only two in the morning, and the bus from Warling takes two hours to get here, I should think he'll be on the first bus," said Pip, "otherwise he'd be jolly late!"

Mystery 14 – Mystery of the Strange Messages

Mystery of the Strange Messages, By Enid Blyton 

Mr. Goon is Angry.

Mr. Goon, the village policeman, was in a very bad temper. He sat at his desk, and stared at three pieces of paper there, spread out before him. Beside them were three cheap envelopes. On each sheet of paper separate words were pasted in uneven lines. "They're all words cut out of some newspaper," said Mr. Goon. "So's the writer's handwriting wouldn't give him away, I suppose! And what nonsense they make—look at this one now—'TURN HIM OUT OF THE IVIES!' What does that mean, I'd like to know. And this one—'ASK. SMITH WHAT HIS REAL NAME IS.' Who's Smith?" He stared at the last piece of paper. "CALL YOURSELF A POLICEMAN? BETTER GO AND SEE SMITH."
"Gah!" said Mr. Goon. "Better put them all into the waste-paper basket!" He took one of the envelopes and looked at it. It was a very cheap one, square in shape, and on each one was pasted two words only. Mr. goon. Each word was pasted separately, as if cut from a newspaper. Goon's surname had no capital letter, and he nodded his head at that. "Must be a fellow with no education that put my name with a small letter," he said. "What's he mean—all this business about some place called The Ivies, and a fellow called Smith? Must be mad! Rude too—'Call myself a policeman!' I'll tell him a few things when I see him." He gave a sudden shout. "Mrs. Hicks! Come here a minute, will you?" Mrs. Hicks, the woman who came in to clean for Mr. Goon, shouted back, "Let me wipe me hands and I'll be there!" Mr. Goon frowned. Mrs. Hicks treated him as if he were an ordinary man, not a policeman, whose frown ought to send her scuttling, and whose voice ought to bring her in at top speed. After a minute or two she arrived, panting as if she had run for miles. "Just in the middle of washing-up," she began. "And I think I'd better tell you, Mr. Goon, you want a couple of new cups, and a..."
"I've no time to talk about crockery," said Mr. Goon, snappily. "Now see here..."
"And me tea-cloth is just about in rags," went on Mrs. Hicks. "How I'm supposed to wash up with ..."
"MRS. HICKS! I called you in on an official matter," said the policeman, sternly. "All right, all right," said Mrs. Hicks, in a huff. "What's up? If you want my advice on that fellow who goes round stealing the vegetables off our allotments, well, I can give a good guess. I..."
"Be quiet, woman," said Mr. Goon, fiercely, wishing he could clap her into a cell for an hour or two. "I merely want to ask you a few questions."

Mystery 13 - The Mystery of the Missing Man

The Mystery of the Missing Man, by Enid Blyton

Fatty’s News

“I’m going to buy some Easter eggs,” said Pip, at breakfast-time. “Are you coming too, Bets? Then we might go and call on old Fatty.”
“Oh yes - let’s!” said Bets. “I’ve only seen him once since he came back from school, and then he was with Mrs. Trotteville and we couldn’t say much.”
“We’ll call in and tell Larry and Daisy to come too,” said Pip. “We might go and have buns and coffee at the dairy. Mother, do you want anything in the village?”
“No - unless you like to buy yourself an alarm clock,” said Mrs. Hilton, buttering her toast. Pip stared. “What for?” he said. “I’ve got a watch.” Bets giggled. “You mean he might get up in time for breakfast then, Mother!” she said. “Ha! Funny joke,” said Pip. “Anyway, no alarm clock would wake me if I’m really asleep. Besides, Mother - I’ve only just come back from a very, very hard term’s work, and as for the exams last weck, well I bet you wouldn’t get top marks any more than I shall. I’ve not slept well for weeks, worrying about my marks.”
“I suppose that means that you’ll be somewhere near the bottom again,” said Pip’s father, putting down his morning paper for a moment. “Well, we shall know the worst in a few days’ time when your report comes.” Pip changed the subject quickly - a trick at which he was very good. “Dad, what do you want for Easter?” he asked. “I did think of getting you some of that tobacco you like - and Mother, I suppose you wouldn’t like a marzipan egg, would you, I know you like marzipan, and...” The trick worked. Both his parents had to smile. His mother tapped hirn an the hand. “All right, all right, we won’t mention reports till after Easter. And yes, I do like marzipan. Now, do you want to finish the toast - because if so I’ll leave you to it. Bets, remember to make your bed and dust your room before you go out. AND - please don’t forget that dinner is at one o’clock sharp.” The telephone bell shrilled out as Mrs. Hilton left the table. She went into the hall to answer it and called back into the room almost at once. “It’s Fatty - he wants to speak to one of you. You go, Bets, you’ve finished your meal.” Bets flew to the telephone. “Hallo! Hallo, Fatty!”
“Hallo, little Bets!” said a warm, lively voice on the telephone. “What about meeting somewhere this morning? I’ve got a spot of Easter shopping to do.”
“Oh yes, Fatty!” said Bets eagerly. “Pip and I were just thinking the same. Let’s meet at the dairy, shall we - for buns and coffee. Say at quarter to eleven.”
“Right,” said Fatty. “Will you tell Larry and Daisy, or shall I?”
“We will,” said Bets. “Have you got any news, Fatty? Anything exciting happening?” She heard Fatty’s laugh at the other end of the phone. “What do you mean? You surely don’t think I’ve got a mystery up my sleeve already? Not a hope! As a matter of fact, I’m rather fed-up about something. Tell you when I see you. So long!” Bets put down her receiver, and went to tell Pip. He was eating the last piece of toast and was alone in the room. “My word!” said Bets, eyeing the toast, “I never in my life saw so much marmalade spread on a small bit of toast.”

Mystery 12 - The Mystery of Tally-Ho Cottage

Myster of the Tally-Ho Cottage, by Enid Blyton   

AT PETERSWOOD STATION 

One afternoon four children and a dog walked into the little railway station at Peterswood. The dog ran about happily, his tail wagging all the time. ‘Better put Buster on the lead,’ said Pip. ‘We’re early, and two or three trains may come through. Here, Buster - come to heel, old boy!’ The little Scottie trotted up, his tail wagging nineteen to the dozen. He gave a few short barks. ‘Yes, I know you’re longing to see Fatty,’ said Pip, bending over him to clip on his lead. ‘So are we all! Hey, keep still!’
‘Hang on to him - here comes a train!’ said Larry. ‘It’s going right through.’ Buster stood his ground bravely until the train gave a piercing whistle as it tore through the station - then he tried to scuttle under a wooden seat and dragged Pip after him. He sat down with his back to the train and trembled. That awful whistle! ‘It made me jump!’ said Bets. ‘Cheer up, Buster - Fatty will soon be here. We’ve loved having you while Fatty’s been away, and you’ve been Very Very Good!’
‘Even Mother likes you!’ said Pip, patting him. ‘Though she didn’t a bit want us to keep you while Fatty was inSwitzerland !’
‘I can’t think WHY Fatty had to go off toSwitzerland for a whole fortnight, and be away all Christmas time,’ complained Bets. ‘Well, he had to go with his parents,’ said Daisy. ‘I expect he had a jolly good time in all that snow.’
‘Yes. And he wouldn’t mind falling down a bit, he’s so plump!’ said Larry, with a laugh. ‘What’s the time? Gosh, we’re early! What shall we do?’
‘It’s cold on the platform. Let’s go into the waiting-room,’ said Daisy. ‘Come on, Buster.’ Buster sat firm. Pip pulled on the lead. ‘Come on, idiot. We’re only going into the waiting-room. Fatty’s train isn’t due yet.’ Buster refused to move. Fatty was coming on one of the trains that clattered into the station, and would alight on this platform - and therefore Buster wished to wait there and nowhere else. ‘Tie him up to the seat,’ said Larry. ‘He’ll be miserable if we make him go into the waiting-room. Buster, you’re an ass. I wouldn’t sit down on that icy-cold stone platform for anything.’
They tied Buster to the seat and left him there. They went into the waiting-room, which had a very minute fire, but was at least sheltered from the cold wind that blew through the station. ‘There’s one thing,’ said Daisy, sitting down on a hard wooden bench, ‘Fatty won’t be in disguise, so he can’t trick us this time! He’ll be arriving with his father and mother, and will have to be himself.’
‘I’m glad,’ said Bets. ‘I want to see him just as he really is, fat and jolly and grinning all over his face! We haven’t seen him for months! Three months at school - and then he rushes off to Switzerland !’
‘I bet I know what he’ll say as soon as he sees us,’ said Pip, grinning. ‘He’ll say, “Well - got any mystery on hand?” ’
‘And we haven’t,’ said Larry.

Mystery 11 - The Mystery of the Holly Lane

  Mystery of Holly Lane, by Enid Blyton

Off to Meet Fatty. 

"Bets — don't gobble your porridge like that!" said Mrs. Hilton. "There's no hurry, surely!"
"Well, there is, Mother," said Bets. "I've got to go and meet Fatty's train this morning. Have you forgotten that he's coming home today?"
"But he's not arriving till the middle of the morning, is he?" said her mother. "There's plenty of time. Please don't gobble like that."
"I expect Bets wants to go and lay a red carpet down for Fatty, and get a band to play to welcome him," said her brother Pip, with a grin. "That's what you're in a hurry about, aren't you, Bets? Got to go and round up the band and see that all their instruments are polished!"
"Don't be so silly," said Bets, crossly, and tried to kick him under the table. He dodged his legs out of the way and she kicked her father's ankle instead. He put down his paper and glared. "Oh, Dad — I'm sorry!" said Bets. "Please I'm very sorry. I meant to kick Pip. You see..."
"Any more of this kind of behaviour at breakfast-time and you can both go out of the room," said Mr. Hilton, and raised his paper again, leaning it against the big milk-jug. There was a dead silence for a minute or two except for the sound of spoons in the porridge bowls. "Are you both going to meet Fatty?" asked Mrs. Hilton at last. "Yes," said Bets, glad to have the silence broken. "But I want to go round and collect Buster first Fatty asked me to. That's why I'm in a hurry."
"I suppose you're going to give old Buster a bath, and then dry him, and then brush him, and then tie a red ribbon round his neck," said Pip. "Well, well — that will take half the morning, certainly. Are you going to wear your best dress to meet Fatty, Bets?"
"I think you're horrid this morning," said Bets, almost in tears. "I should have thought you'd be pleased to meet Fatty, too. It's maddening that his school should have broken up after Easter, instead of before, like ours did. It means we'll go back before he does." Pip stopped teasing Bets. "Yes, it's a silly idea, some schools breaking up before Easter and some after. I'm coming to meet Fatty too, of course, and I'll go and collect Buster with you. I'll even help you to bath him."
"I wasn't going to bath him," said Bets. "You know I wasn't. Pip — do you suppose Fatty will be in disguise — just to have a joke with us?"
"I hope to goodness you are not going to get mixed up in any nonsense again these holidays," said her father, entering suddenly into the conversation again. "I'm getting tired of having that fat policeman, Mr. Goon, round here complaining of this and that. As soon as that boy Frederick appears on the scene something always seems to happen."
"Well, Fatty can't help it," said Bets loyally. "I mean — mysteries keep on happening, Dad, you can't stop them. The papers are full of them."

Mystery - 10 The Mystery of the Strange Bundle

The Mystery of the Strange Bundle, by Enid Blyton

Bets goes Shopping 

“Of all the miserable holidays these just about beat the lot!” said Pip to Bets. “Why you had to start us off on this awful ‘flu’ I can’t imagine!” Bets looked hurt. “Well, I couldn’t help it,” she said. “Someone gave it to me before I gave it to you others. It was jolly bad luck that it happened at Christmas.” Pip blew his nose violently. He was sitting up in bed, feeling decidedly better but very bad-tempered. “You get it as soon as the Christmas hols begin - and you get it lighter than anyone! Then you give it to Daisy, and she gives it to Larry, and they have it all through Christmas, poor things. And then I get it, and poor old Fatty. What a mess-up of the Christmas hols! Hardly any left of them now!” Pip sounded very cross indeed. Bets got up. “All right. If you’re going to be such a crosspatch I won’t sit with you this morning. I’ll go and see Fatty. I think you’re very unkind, Pip, after all the games I’ve played with you and the books I’ve read you.” She was just stalking out with her head in the air, looking very high and mighty, when Pip called to her. “Hey, Bets - tell Fatty I’m feeling better, and ask him to get on the track of some mystery AT ONCE, because I feel it’s just the kind of tonic I need. And we’ve only got about ten days of the hols left.” Bets grinned round at him. “All right. I’ll tell him. But Fatty can’t just spin a mystery out of thin air, Pip. I think we’ll have to go without one this hols.”
“Fatty can do anything,” said Pip, with the utmost conviction. “I’ve been lying here for days, and most of the time I’ve been remembering all the mysteries we’ve ever solved with old Fatty. I’ve never had time to do so much thinking before. Old Fatty’s a wonder.”
“I knew that without having to do a lot of thinking,” said Bets. “All his disguises - and the way he works out the clues - and the tricks he’s played on Mr. Goon.”
“Oh yes!” said Pip, a broad smile on his pale face. “I say - it makes me feel better even to think of all those fat-headed tricks of Fatty’s. For goodness’ sake tell Fatty to work up some mystery or other for us - it’ll do us all good. Give us some interest in life!”
“I’m going,” said Bets. “I’ll bring a mystery back for you if I can!”
“Bring some peppermints too,” said Pip. “I’ve suddenly got a craving for them. No, bring a bagful of bull’s-eyes, the hottest you can buy. I could do with about fifty, Bets, to go with this detective book Fatty’s lent me.”