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.”