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.”

Mystery 9 - The Mystery of the Vanished Prince

 What a Waste of Holidays! 

“I haven’t liked these holidays one bit,” said Bets, dolefully, to Pip. “No Larry, no Daisy, no Fatty - a real waste of summer holidays!”
“Well, you’ve had me,” said Pip. “Haven’t I taken you for bike-rides and picnics and things?”
“Yes - but only because Mother said you were to,” said Bets, still gloomy. “I mean - you had to do it because Mother kept saying I’d be lonely. It was nice of you - but I did know you were doing it because it was your duty, or something like that.”
“I think you’re very ungrateful,” said Pip, in a huff. Bets sighed. “There you are - in a huff again already, Pip! I do, do wish the others were here. It’s the first hols that every one but us have been away.”
“Well, the other three will be back in a few days’ time,” said Pip. “We shall still have two or three weeks left of these hols.”
“But will there be enough time for a mystery?” asked Bets, rolling over to find a shadier place on the gras. “We nearly always have a mystery to solve in the hols. I haven’t always liked our mysteries - but somehow I miss it when we don’t have one.”
“Well, find one then,” said Pip. “What I miss most is old Buster.”
“Oh yes,” said Bets, thinking of Fatty’s joyful, mad little Scottie dog. “I miss him, too. The only person I keep seeing that I don’t want to see is Mr. Goon.” Mr. Goon was the village policeman, a pompous and ponderous fellow, always at war with the five children. Bets seemed to meet him three or four times a day, cycling heavily here and there, ringing his bell violently round every corner. “Look - there’s the postman,” said Pip. “Go and see if he’s got anything for us, Bets. There might be a card from old Fatty.” Bets got up. It was very hot and although she wore only a sun-suit of frilly cotton, she still felt as if she was going to melt. She went to meet the postman, who was cycling up the drive. “Hallo, postman!” she called. “I’ll take the letters.”
“Right, Missy. Two cards - one for you and one for your brother,” said the postman. “That’s all.” Bets took them. “Oh, good!” she said. “One’s from Fatty - and it’s for me!” She ran back to Pip. “A card for you from Larry and Daisy,” she said, “and one for me from Fatty. Let’s see what they say...” Pip read his card out loud at once. “ ‘Coming back the day after to-morrow, thank goodness. Any mystery turned up? We shan’t have much time for one these hols unless we can dig one up quickly! We’re as brown as gipsies. You won’t know us! Good disguise, of course! See you soon. Love to Bets. - Larry and Daisy.’ ”

Mystery - 8 The Mystery of the Invisable Thief

  One Hot Summer’s Day 

“Do you know,” said Pip, “this is the fourth week of the summer holidays - the fourth week, mind - and we haven’t even heard of a mystery!”
“Haven’t even smelt one,” agreed Fatty. “Gosh, this sun is hot. Buster, don’t pant so violently - you’re making me feel even hotter!” Buster crawled into a patch of shade, and lay down with a thump. His tongue hung out as he panted. Bets patted him. “Poor old Buster! It must be frightful to have to wear a fur coat in this weather - one you can’t even unbutton and have hanging open!”
“Don’t suggest such a thing to Buster,” said Fatty. “He’d look awful.”
“Oh dear - it’s too hot even to laugh,” said Daisy, picturing Buster trying to undo his coat to leave it open. “Here we are - all the Five Find-Outers - and Dog,” said Larry, “with nothing to find out, nothing to solve, and eight weeks to do it in! Fatty, it’s a waste of the hols. Though even if we had a mystery I think I’d be too hot to think about Clues and Suspects and what-nots.” The five children lay on their backs on the grass. The sun poured down on them. They all wore as little as possible, but even so they were hot. Nobody could bear poor Buster near them for more than two seconds, because he absolutely radiated heat. “Whose turn is it to fetch the iced lemonade?” said Larry. “You know jolly well it’s yours,” said Daisy. “You always ask that question when it’s your turn, hoping somebody will get it out of turn. Go and get it, you lazy thing.” Larry didn’t move. Fatty pushed him with his foot. “Go on,” he said. “You’ve made us all feel thirsty now. Go and get it.” A voice came up the garden. “Bets! Have you got your sun-hat on? And what about Pip?” Bets answered hastily. “Yes, Mother - it’s quite all right. I’ve got mine on.” Pip was frowning at her to warn her to say nothing about him. He had, as usual, forgotten his hat. But his mother was not to be put off. “What about Pip? Pip, come and get your sunhat. Do you want sunstroke again?” Page 1 “Blow!” said Pip, and got up. Larry immediately said what everybody knew he would say. “Well, you might as well bring back the iced lemonade with you, old chap.”
“You’re jolly good at getting out of your turn,” grumbled Pip, going off. “If I’d been quick enough I’d have told you to get my hat when you got the lemonade. All right, Mother. I’m COMING!” The iced lemonade revived everyone at once. For one thing they all had to sit up, which made them feel much more lively. And for another thing Pip brought them back a bit of news. “I say - do you know what Mother just told me?” he said. “Inspector Jenks is coming to Peterswood this afternoon!”
“Is he?” said everyone, intensely interested. Inspector Jenks was a great friend of theirs. He admired the Five Find-Outers very much, because of the many curious mysteries they had solved. “What’s he coming for?” asked Fatty. “I say - there’s not a mystery on, is there?”
“No, I’m afraid not,” said Pip. “Apparently his little god-daughter is riding in that gymkhana in Petter’s Field this afternoon, and he’s promised to come and see her.”
“Oh - what a disappointment,” said Daisy. “I thought he might be on the track of some exciting case or other.”

Mystery 07 – Mystery of the Pantomime Cat

At the Railway Station. 

Larry and Daisy were waiting for Fatty to come and call for them with Buster the Scottie. They swung on the gate and kept looking down the road. "Nice to he home for the hols, again." said Daisy. "I wish Fatty would buck up. We shan't be in time to meet Pip and Bets' train if he doesn't buck up. I'm longing to see them again. It seems ages since the Christmas hols."
"There he is!" said Larry, and jumped off the gate. "And there's Buster. Hallo, Fatty! We'll have to hurry or we won't be in time to meet Bets and Pip."
"Plenty of time," said Fatty, who never seemed in a hurry. "I say, it'll be fun to be all together again, won't it—the Five Find-Outers, ready to tackle the next super-colossal mystery!"
"Woof," said Buster, feeling a bit left out. Fatty corrected himself. "The Five Find-Outers and Dog. Sorry, Buster."
"Come on," said Daisy. "The train will be in. Fancy, we've had almost a week's holiday and haven't seen Bets and Pip. I bet they didn't like staying with their Aunt Sophie—she's frightfully strict and proper. They'll be full of pleases and thank-yous and good manners for a few days!"
"It'll wear off," said Fatty. "Any one seen old Clear-Orf these hols.?" Clear-Orf was the name the children gave to Mr. Goon, the village policeman. He couldn't bear the five children, and he hated Buster, who loved to dance round the fat policeman's ankles in a most aggravating way. The children had solved a good many mysteries which Mr. Goon had tried to puzzle out himself, and he was very jealous of them. "He'll say 'Clear-orf!' as soon as ever he spots one of us anywhere," said Larry, with a grin. "It's sort of automatic with him. I say—I wonder if there'll be any more mysteries these hols. I feel I could just use my brains nicely on a good juicy mystery!" The others laughed. "Don't let Daddy hear you say that," said Daisy. "You had such a bad report that he'll wonder why you don't use your brains for Latin and Maths., instead of Mysteries!"
"I suppose he had 'Could use his brains better,' or 'Does not make the best use of his brains,' on his report," said Fatty. "I know the sort of thing."
"You couldn't ever have had those remarks put on your report, Fatty," said Daisy, who had a great admiration for Fatty's brains. "Well," said Fatty, modestly, "I usually have 'A brilliant term's work,' or 'Far surpasses the average for his form' or . . ." Larry gave him a punch. "Still the same modest but conceited old Fatty! It's marvellous how you manage to boast in such a modest tone of voice, Fatty. I..."

Mystery 6 - The Mystery of the Hidden house

  The Fat Boy at the Station 

   

“It’s today that Fatty’s coming back,” said Bets to Pip. “I’m so glad.” 

“That’s the sixth time you’ve said that in the last hour,” said Pip. “Can’t you think of something else to say?” 

“No, I can’t,” said Bets. “I keep on feeling so glad that we shall soon see Fatty.” She went to the window and looked out. “Oh Pip - here come Larry and Daisy up the drive. I expect they will come to the station to meet Fatty too.” 

“Of course they will,” said Pip. “And I bet old Buster will turn up as well! Fancy Fatty going away without Buster-dog!” Larry and Daisy walked into Pip’s play-room. “Hallo, hallo!” said Larry, flinging bis cap on a chair. “Won’t it be nice when Fatty’s back? Nothing ever seems to happen unless he’s around.” 

“We aren’t even the Five Find-Outers without him,” said Bets. “Only four - and nothing to find out!” Larry, Daisy, Fatty, Pip and Bets called themselves the Five Find-Outers (and Dog, because of Buster). They had been very good indeed at solving all kinds of peculiar mysteries in the various holidays when they came back from boarding-school. Mr. Goon the village policeman, had done his best to solve them too, but somehow the Five Find-Outers always got a little ahead of him, and he found this very annoying indeed. “Perhaps some mystery will turn up when Fatty comes,” said Pip. “He’s the kind of person that things always happen to. He just can’t help it.” 

“Fancy him being away over Christmas!” said Daisy. “It was queer not having Fatty. I’ve kept him his presents.” "So have I,” said Bets. “I made him a note-book with his full name on the cover in beautiful lettering. Look, here it is - Frederick Algernon Trotteville. Won’t he be pleased?” 

“I shouldn’t think he will,” said Pip. “You’ve got it all dirty and messy, carrying it about.” 

“I bought him this,” said Daisy, and she fished a box out of her pocket. She opened it and brought out a neat little black beard. “It’s to help him in his disguise.” 

“It’s a lovely one,” said Pip, fingering it, and then putting it on his chin. “How do I look?” 

“Rather silly,” said Bets, at once. “You look like a boy with a beard - but if Fatty wore it he would look like an elderly man at once. He knows how to screw up his face and bend his shoulders and all that.” 

“Yes - he’s really most frightfully clever at disguises,” said Daisy. “Do you remember how he dressed up as Napoleon Bonaparte in the waxwork show last hols?” They all laughed as they remembered Fatty standing solemnly among the waxworks, as still as they were, looking exactly like one. “That was a super mystery we solved last hols,” said Pip. “I hope one turns up these hols too. Any one seen Mr. Goon lately?” 

“Yes, I saw him riding his bicycle yesterday,” said Bets. “I was just crossing the road when he came round the corner. He almost knocked me down.” 

Mystery 05 - Mystery of the Missing Necklace

Oh, for a Mystery! 

Pip and Bets sat in their garden, in the very coolest place they could find, They had on sun-suits and nothing else, for the August sun was blazing hot. "A whole month of the summer hols gone already!" said Pip. "And except that we've been away to the seaside for two weeks, absolutely nothing else has happened. Most boring."
"The boringest hols we've ever had," said Bets. "Not even the smell of a mystery to solve I And not even Larry, Daisy, Fatty, or Buster to play with—they've been away at the sea for ages!" Larry and Daisy were friends of Pip and Bets, and so was Frederick—or Fatty as everyone called him. Buster was his Scottie dog, loved by all the children. The five children called themselves the Five Find-Outers and Dog, because for the last four holidays they had tackled curious mysteries and solved them all—much to the annoyance of the village policeman, Mr. Goon. "But now it seems as if you and I, Pip, are the only Find-Outers left," said Bets. "I don't feel as if the others will ever come back! Soon the hols will be over, you'll all be back at boarding-school again, except me, and we shan't solve any mystery at all these hols."
"There are still four weeks left, so cheer up, baby!" said Pip. "And the others come back this week—and I bet old Fatty will have heaps of new disguises to try out on us! We'll be on the look-out for him this time, though—and we jolly well won't be taken in!" Bets laughed. She remembered how Fatty had disguised himself as a French boy, and deceived them all beautifully. And in the last holidays he had produced all kinds of disguises, which he wore with a red wig and eyebrows. There was no knowing what old Fatty would be up to next! "But this time he won't deceive us," said Pip again. "I shall be very suspicious of any peculiar-looking stranger who tries to talk to me, or comes to call on us. I shall say to myself, 'It's you all right, Fatty,' and I shan't listen to a word!"
"Do you think there will be a mystery for us to solve these hols?" asked Bets. "I do so like looking for clues, and making out lists of Suspects, and crossing people off the list when we've made enquiries—and finding the real Suspect at the end!"
"We've been jolly lucky so far," said Pip, sitting up and looking round for the bottle of lemonade he had brought out. "We've been able to solve every single mystery. We can't always be successful, though. I don't expect even real detectives are always successful. Bets, you pig, you've finished the lemonade. Go and ask Gladys for some iced water." Bets was too lazy to move. She rolled over out of Pip's reach, and yawned loudly. "I'm bored! I want the others to come back so that we can have games with them. I want a mystery—a really good one. And I want to solve it before Old Clear-Orf does!" Old Clear-Orf was Mr. Goon the policeman. He told children and dogs to "clear-orf" whenever he saw them. He disliked all the Find-Outers intensely, and never had a good word to say for them. Pip and Bets hadn't seen much of him in the summer holidays, and were very glad, for he had often been to their parents to complain of the behaviour of the Five Find-Outers. Bets was afraid of him, because when he lost his temper he shouted, and was very unpleasant indeed. "Bets, didn't you hear me tell you to go in and fetch some iced water?" said Pip crossly. "Go on!"

Mystery 4 - Mystery of the Spiteful Letters

 CHAPTER I THE EXTRAORDINARY TELEGRAM 

Bets and Pip were waiting impatiently for Larry, Daisy and Fatty to come. Bets was on the window-seat of the play-room looking anxiously out of the window. ‘I wish they’d buck up,’ she said. ‘After all, they came home from boarding-school yesterday, and they’ve had plenty of time to come along. I do want to know if Fatty’s got any more disguises and things.’ 

‘I suppose you think there’ll be another first-class mystery for us to solve these hols,’ said Pip. ‘Golly, that was a wizard one we had in the Christmas hols, wasn’t it?’ 

‘Yes,’ said Bets. ‘A bit too wizard. I wouldn’t really mind not having a mystery these hols.’ 

‘Bets! And I thought you were such a keen detective!’ said Pip. ‘Don’t you want to be a Find-Outer any more?’ 

‘Of course I do. Don’t be silly!’ said Bets. ‘I know you don’t think I’m much use, because I’m the youngest and only nine, and you’re all in your teens now - but I did help an awful lot last time, when we solved the mystery of the secret room.’ Pip was just about to say something squashing to his little sister when she gave a yell. ‘Here they are! At least - here are Larry and Daisy. Let’s go down and meet them.’ They tore downstairs and out into the drive. Bets flung herself on the boy and girl in delight, and Pip stood by and grinned. ‘Hallo, Larry! Hallo, Daisy! Seen Fatty at all?’ 

‘No,’ said Larry. ‘Isn’t he here? Blow! Let’s go to the gate and watch for him. Won’t it be fun to see old Buster again too, wagging his tail and trotting along on his short Scottie legs!’ The four children went to the front gate and looked out. There was no sign of Fatty and Buster. The baker’s cart drove by. Then came a woman on a bicycle. Then up the lane plodded a most familiar figure. It was Mr. Goon the policeman, or old Clear-Orf as the children called him. He was going round on his beat, and was not at all pleased to see the four children at Pip’s gate, watching him. Mr. Goon did not like the children, and they certainly did not like him. There had been three mysteries to solve in their village of Peterswood in the last year, and each time the children had solved them before Mr. Goon. ‘Good morning,’ said Larry politely, as Mr. Goon came by, panting a little for he was plump. His frog-eyes glared at them. ‘So you’re back again, like bad pennies,’ he said. ‘Ho! Poking your noses into things again, I suppose!’ 

‘I expect so,’ said Pip cheerfully. Mr. Goon was just about to make another crushing remark when there came a wild ringing of bicycle bells and a boy came round the corner at top speed on a bicycle. ‘Telegraph-boy,’ said Pip. ‘Look out, Mr. Goon, look out!’ The telegraph-boy had swerved right over to the policeman, and it looked as if he was going straight into him. Mr. Goon gave a yelp and skipped like a lamb out of the way. ‘Now then, what you riding like that for? A public danger, that’s what you boys are!’

Mystery 3 - The Mystery of the Secret Room

Home from School

Pip set out his painting things, poked the playroom fire, and sat down to finish his Christmas cards.
“You do them nicely, Pip,” said Bets, looking over his shoulder. “I wish I could keep inside the lines like you do.”
“You’re only little yet,” said Pip, beginning to paint red berries on his card.
“Well, I’ve had another birthday, and I’m nine now,” said Bets. “I’m getting bigger. You’re still twelve, Pip, so I’m only three years behind you now.”
“When are the others coming?” asked Pip, looking at the clock. “I told them to come early. It’s fun to do our Christmas presents together.”
Bets went to the window of their big playroom. “Here come Larry and Daisy,” she said. “Oh, Pip, isn’t it fun to be altogether again?”
Bets didn’t go to boarding-school as the others did, and she often felt lonely in term-time, when her brother Pip was away, and their three friends, Larry and Daisy Daykin, and Fatty Trotteville. But now it was Christmas holidays and they were all home. Bets felt very happy. She had her brother again, and Christmas was coming - and darling
Buster, Fatty’s dog, would come to see her every single day. Larry and Daisy came up the stairs to the playroom. “Hallo!” said Larry. “Finished your cards yet? I’ve still got three to do, and Daisy’s got a
present to finish. We brought them along.”
“Good,” said Pip, putting his paintbrush into his mouth to give it a nice point. “There’s plenty of room at the table. Fatty’s not here yet.”
A loud barking outside sent Bets to the window again. “It’s Buster - and Fatty,” she said. “Oh, good! Fatty looks plumper than ever!”
In half a minute Fatty and Buster were in the playroom, Fatty looking very sleek and pleased with himself, and Buster bursting with excitement. He flew at everyone and licked them thoroughly.
“Hallo, Buster dear!” said Bets. “Oh, Fatty, Buster’s got thin and you’ve got
fat.”
“Well, Fatty won’t be any thinner after Christmas,” said Larry, settling down at the table. “Brought some cards to finish, Fatty? I’ve just about worked down my list.”

Mystery 02 — Mystery of the Disappearing Cat

The Big Boy Next Door.

Bets was feeling very excited. Her big brother Pip was coming home from school that day for the long summer holidays. She had been without him for three months, and had felt very lonely. Now she would have him again.

"And Larry and Daisy will be home tomorrow!" she said to her mother. "Oh, Mummy! it will be fun to have so many children to play with again."

Larry and Daisy were Pip's friends. They were older than Bets, but they let her play with them. In the Easter holidays the four of them, with another boy and his dog, had had a great adventure finding out who had burnt down a cottage.

"We were the Five Find-Outers," said Bets, remembering everything. "We found out the whole mystery, Mummy, didn't we? Oh, I do wish we could solve another mystery these holidays too!"

Her mother laughed. "Oh, it was just a bit of luck that you solved the mystery of the burnt cottage," she said. "There won't be any more mysteries, so don't expect any, Bets. Now hurry up and get ready. It's time to meet Pip."

Pip was most excited to be home again. When he got back with Bets he tore round the garden, looking at everything. It seemed to him as if he had been away for years. His little sister tore round with him, chattering at the top of her voice all the time. She adored Pip, but he didn't take very much notice of her. To him she was only just a little girl, still a baby, who liked her dolls, and cried when she fell down.

Mystery 01- Mystery of the Burnt Cottage - Blyton, Enid.

The Burning Cottage.

It was at half-past nine on a dark April night that all the excitement began. The village of Peterswood was perfectly quiet and peaceful, except for a dog barking somewhere. Then suddenly, to the west of the village, a great light flared up. Larry Daykin was just getting into bed when he saw it. He had pulled back his curtains so that the daylight would wake him, and he suddenly saw the flare to the west. "Golly! What's that!" he said. He called to his sister. "Daisy! I say, come here and look. There's a funny flare-up down in the village somewhere." His sister came into the bedroom in her nightdress. She looked out of the window. "It's a fire!" she said. "It looks pretty big, doesn't it? I wonder what it is. Do you think it's some one's house on fire?" "We'd better go and see," said Larry, excited. "Let's get dressed again. Mummy and Daddy are out, so they won't know anything about the fire. Come on, hurry." Larry and Daisy dressed quickly, and then ran down the stairs and out into the dark garden. As they went down the lane they passed another house, and heard the sound of hurrying footsteps coming down the drive there. "It's Pip, I bet," said Larry, and shone his torch up the drive. The light picked out a boy about his own age, and with him a small girl of about eight. "Hello, Bets! You coming too?" called Daisy, surprised. "I should have thought you'd have been asleep." "Larry!" called Pip. "It's a fire, isn't it? Whose house is burning, do you think? Will they send for the fire-engine?" "The house will be burnt down before the firemen come all the way from the next village!" said Larry. "Come on - it looks as if it's down Haycock Lane." They all ran on together. Some of the villagers had seen" the glare too, and were running down the lane as well. It was exciting. "It's Mr. Hick's house," said a man. "Sure as anything it's his house." They all poured down to the end of the lane. The glare became higher and brighter. "It's not the house!" cried Larry. "It's the cottage he works in, in the garden - his workroom. Golly, there won't be much left of it!" There certainly wouldn't. The place was old, half-timbered and thatched, and the dry straw of the roof was blazing strongly. Mr. Goon, the village policeman, was there, directing men to throw water on the flames. He saw the children and shouted at them. "Clear orf, you! Clear orf!" "That's what he always says to children," said Bets. "I've never heard him say anything else." It was not the least use throwing pails of water on the flames. The policeman yelled for the chauffeur. "Where's Mr. Thomas? Tell him to get out the hosepipe he uses to clean the car." "Mr. Thomas has gone to fetch the master," shouted a woman's voice. "He's gone to the station to meet the London train!" It was Mrs. Minns, the cook, speaking. She was a fat, comfortable-looking person, who was in a very scared state now. She filled pails of water from a tap, her hands trembling. "It's no use," said one of the villagers. "Can't stop this fire now. It's got too big a hold." "Some one's phoned for the fire-engine," said another man. "But by the time it gets here the whole place will be gone." "Well, there's no fear of the house catching." said the policeman. "Wind's in the opposite direction luckily. My word., what a shock for Mr. Hick when he comes home." The four children watched everything witii excitement. "It's a shame too see such a nice little cottage go up in flames," said Larry. "I wish they'd let us do something -throw water, for instance." A boy about the same size as Larry ran up with a pail of water and threw it towards the flames, but his aim was bad, and some of it went over Larry. He shouted at the boy. "Hey, you I Some of that went over me! Look what you're doing, for goodness' sake!" "Sorry, old boy," said the boy, in a funny drawling sort of voice. The flames shot up and lighted the whole garden well. Larry saw that the boy was plump, well-dressed and rather pleased with himself. "He's the boy who has come to live with his father and mother in the inn opposite," said Pip in a low voice to Larry. "He's awful. Thinks he knows everything, and has so much pocket-money he doesn't know what to do with it!" The policeman saw the boy carrying the pail. "Here you!" he yelled. "Clear orf! We don't want children getting in the way." "I am not a child," said the boy indignantly. "Can't you see I'm helping?" "You clear orf!" said Mr. Goon. A dog suddenly appeared and barked round the policeman's ankles in a most annoying way. Mr, Goon was angry. He kicked out at the dog. "This your dog?" he called to the boy. "Call him orf!" The boy took no notice but went to get another pail of water. The dog had a wonderful time round Mr. Goon's trousered ankles.