Mystery of the Hidden House by Enid Blyton Read Free Book Online

uncle. When he awoke the next morning he began to plan how to get into touch with the others.
    But Mr. Goon had other plans. “You can take down all those files in those shelves,” he said. “And clean up the shelves and dust the files, and put them back in proper order.”
    That took Ern all the morning. Mr. Goon went out and Ern hoped one of the Find-Outers would come, but they didn’t. In the afternoon Mr. Goon settled himself down to go to sleep as usual. He saw Ern looking very down in the dumps and was pleased. “He won’t go snooping again!” he thought. “He knows what he’ll get if he does!”
    And Mr. Goon went peacefully off to sleep. He was awakened by a thunderous knocking at the door. He almost leaped out of his chair, and Ern looked alarmed.
    “Shall I go, Uncle?” he said.
    Mr. Goon did not answer. He went to the door himself, buttoning up his uniform. That knocking sounded official. It might be the Inspector himself. People didn’t usually hammer on the door of a police officer like that. They’d be afraid to!
    Outside stood a fat old woman in a red shawl. “I’ve come to complain,” she began, in a high, quavering voice. “The things I’ve put up with from that woman! She’s my next-door neighbour, sir, and she’s the meanest woman you ever saw. She throws her rubbish into my garden, sir, and she always lights her bonfire when the wind’s blowing my way, and…”
    “Wait, wait,” said Mr. Goon, annoyed. “What’s your name and where do…”
    “And only yesterday she called me a monster, sir, that was the very word she used, oh, a wicked woman she is and it’s myself won’t stand it any longer. Why, last week her dustbin…”
    Mr. Goon saw that this would go on for ever. “You can put in a written complaint,” he said. “I’m busy this afternoon,” and he shut the door firmly.
    He settled himself down in his chair again, but before two minutes had gone, there came such a knock at the door that it was a wonder it wasn’t broken down. Mr. Goon, in a fury, leapt up again and almost ran to the door. The woman was there again, her arms folded akimbo over her chest.
    “I forgot to tell you, sir,” she began, “when I put my washing out last week this woman threw a pail of dirty water over it, and I had to wash it all again, and…”
    “Didn’t I tell you to put in a written report?” roared Mr. Goon. “Do as you’re told, woman!” And again he shut the door, and stamped into the kitchen, fuming.
    No sooner had he sat down than the knocker sounded again. Mr. Goon looked at Ern. “You go,” he said. “It’s that woman again. Tell her what you like.”
    Ern went, rather scared. He opened the door and a flood of words poured over him. “Ooh, it’s you this time, it it? Well, you tell your uncle, what’s the good of me putting in a written report, when I can’t read nor write? You ask him that. You go in and ask him that!”
    And then, to Ern’s enormous astonishment, the red-shawled woman dug him in the chest, and said in a whisper, “Ern! Take this! Now, tell me to go away, quick!”
    Ern gaped. That was Fatty’s voice, surely. Coo, was this Fatty in one of his disguises? Wonderful! Fatty winked hugely, and Ern found his voice.
    “You clear-orf!” he cried. “Bothering my uncle like this! I won’t have it! Clear-orf, I say!”
    He slammed the door. Mr. Goon, in the kitchen, listened in astonishment. Why, Ern had been able to get rid of the woman far more quickly than he had. There must be something in the boy after all.
    Ern was quickly reading the note Fatty had pushed into his hand:
    “Tonight. Watch for lights on Christmas Hill. Hide in ditch by mill. Midnight. Report tomorrow.”
    Ern stuffed the note into his pocket, too thrilled for words. It was beginning! He was plunging into a Mystery! And he wouldn’t tell his uncle a single word. That Fatty! Fancy having the cheek to dress up like that and come thundering on his uncle’s front door. Ern went into the kitchen, quite bemused.
    “So you got rid of that woman?” said