Mystery of Holly Lane by Enid Blyton Read Free Book Online

Buster disappeared! Fatty had gone out on his bicycle with the others to the cinema, and had left Buster safely in the kitchen with the Cook, who was very fond of him. When he came back, he sat down and finished a book he was reading, and it wasn’t until he had finished it that he realised that Buster had not come scampering to be with him as usual.
    He went to the door and shouted. “Buster! Where are you?”
    It was half-past ten. Cook and Jane had gone to bed. His mother and father were out playing bridge and the house was very quiet
    “BUSTER! Where are you?” yelled Fatty again.
    A voice came from upstairs. “Oh, Master Frederick, is that you shouting? You did give me a start! Isn’t Buster with you? He wanted to go out at half-past nine, and we thought he heard you coming in to put your bicycle away, so we let him out. Didn’t you see him?”
    “No, Jane! I haven’t seen him since I’ve been in,” said Fatty. “Where on earth can he be? I’ll open the front door and yell.”
    He stood at the front door and shouted. “Buster! BUSTER!”
    But no Buster came. Fatty was puzzled. Where could he have gone? Well, perhaps he would come in when his mother and father came back.
    But Buster didn’t. It was a very worried Fatty who greeted his parents when they came in at twelve o’clock.
    “Frederick! Why aren’t you in bed?” began his mother. “It’s midnight!”
    “Have you seen Buster?” said Fatty…. “You haven’t? Gosh, then, where can he be?”
    “He’s probably gone to visit one of his friends and forgotten the tune, like you do sometimes!” said his father. “Get to bed now. Buster will be back in the morning, barking outside at six o’clock and waking us all.”
    There was nothing for it but to go to bed. Fatty undressed and got between the sheets. But he couldn’t help remembering the whispered conversation he had heard in Goon’s little hall — and Bert’s mean little face. Had Bert somehow got hold of Buster?
    Buster didn’t come barking at the front door in the morning. He hadn’t even appeared by breakfast-time! Fatty was by now quite certain that somehow or other the skinny little boy had managed to get hold of the little Scottie. He went out into the garden to investigate. Perhaps he could find something to explain Buster’s disappearance.
    He did find something. He found a small bit of liver attached to a short piece of string. Fatty pounced on it, frowning fiercely.
    “That’s it! That little beast Bert must have come along with some liver, tied it on a bit of string and drawn it along for Buster to follow him. And old Buster leapt at it and got the liver and chewed the string in half. Then he must have followed Bert — and probably more liver — till Bert managed to slip a lead on him and take him off.”
    He threw the bit of liver away and went indoors angrily. The telephone bell rang as he walked into the hall. His father was there and took up the receiver.
    “Hallo! Yes, this is Mr. Trotteville speaking. Who’s that? Mr. Goon? What’s that? Do speak up, please, I can only hear a mumble.”
    There was a short silence. Fatty stood nearby, listening. Mr. Goon! Now what was this?
    “I can’t believe it!” said Mr. Trotteville into the telephone. “Buster has never chased a thing in his life — except your ankles. All right — come and see me. I don’t believe it!”
    He put the receiver down and faced Fatty. “That fellow Goon says your dog Buster was caught red-handed last night, chasing sheep.”
    “It couldn’t have been Buster,” said Fatty. “It must be some other dog.”
    “He says he’s got Buster in his shed now,” said Mr. Trotteville. “He’ll be shot, you know, if this is true. Where was he last night?”
    “Someone came and enticed him away,” said Fatty. “Someone who’s told a lie about Buster! Who says they saw him chasing sheep?”
    “A boy called Bert Mickle,” said his father. “Goon says this boy was out walking in the fields