"Blyton, Enid - Barney Junior Mystery 02 - The Rilloby Fair Mystery" - читать интересную книгу автора (Blyton Enid)

"Go on then — out with it. What have you been doing? Using his hair-lotion for Loony or something?" asked Roger.

"Don't try and be funny," said Snubby. "It doesn't suit you. Listen — I came in the train with him, and I got off at the North Station and he went on to South, where you met him. We had quite a lot of — er — conversation."

The other two looked at him in surprise. "You did?" said Diana. "Well — why ever didn't you say so then? Why keep it such a deep, dark secret?"

"Well, you see — it's like this — he told me a silly story about running away from somewhere he'd been staying, because thieves had got through locked doors and stolen papers and things," said Snubby. "Lord Somebody's letters and Lady Somebody's recipes — a lot of awful nonsense. And — well — I told him a story too. I thought to myself, well, two can play at this game, and I sort of let myself go."

"Do you mean you went and stuffed him up with some frightful fairy tale?" said Roger. "Whatever did you tell him?"

Snubby related the story he had told to Great-uncle Robert, ending with his running away from a gang called Green Hands, who always wore green gloves. Diana and Roger listened in astonishment that ended in giggles.

"Gosh, Snubby — you really are the biggest fathead that ever lived!" said Roger at last. "What in the world did you go and stuff Great-uncle up with that for?"

"Well, how was I to know he was your Great-uncle?" demanded Snubby. "I didn't know you'd even got one. And I certainly didn't know he was coming to stay with you. I got a shock, I can tell you, when I saw him in the guest-room. I nearly passed out."

"You'll get another when he tells Dad the rigmarole you told him," said Roger. "Dad doesn't like fairy tales of that sort. He doesn't understand that Mad of joke."

"I know," said Snubby dismally. "I've warned Great-uncle not to say a word. He really believes it all, you see. I expect he's terrified of the Green Hands Gang now — just as terrified as he is of the thieves that walked through the locked doors at the house where he was staying."

"Well, he must be a mutt if he believes a word you say," said Diana. "Oh dear, Snubby — you always bring trouble with you. Now don't you go frightening the old man with sinister notes, or drawings of green hands or anything."

"Oooh — that's an idea," said Snubby, sitting up. "Oooh, I say — wouldn't he have a fit!"

"Yes, he would — and the first thing he'd do would be to tell Dad, and you'd get a whacking," said Roger.

"That's no go then," said Snubby, who had quite clear memories of one of Uncle Richard's whackings. "I don't want to go too far with Uncle Richard."

"You'd better not," said Roger. "He's not in a very good mood so far these hols — because Great-uncle has come to stay, I think — and what with that, and us, and you and Loony, life seems pretty grim to him at the moment."

"Poor Dad," said Diana. "We'd better keep out of his way."

"It's an idea," said Snubby, making up his mind not to obtrude himself on his Uncle Richard any more than could be helped. "I say — I wonder if Great-uncle will tell his thief-story to Uncle and Aunt."

He did, that very night. They were all sitting in the lounge together, the children playing a game, Mrs. Lynton sewing, her husband reading, and Loony having one of his lengthy rolls all over the floor.

Great-uncle filled his pipe and then spoke to Mrs. Lynton. "It's really very kind of you, Susan, to have me here at such short notice," he said. "But to tell you the truth I was at my wits' end. I simply had to leave the Manor House."

"Did you, Uncle Robert? Why? Weren't you comfortable?" asked Mrs. Lynton.

"Oh yes, quite. Very warm, comfortable house, the Manor House at Chelie," said Uncle Robert. "But there were such extraordinary goings-on, you know."

Mrs. Lynton looked rather startled. The children nudged one another and laid down their cards. "Now it's coming," whispered Snubby.

Mr. Lynton put down the evening paper. "What extraordinary goings-on?" he asked. "Surely not much can happen in a house like that, that's more a museum than anything else."

"It's a place of great treasures," said Great-uncle reprovingly. "It belongs to Sir John Huberry, as you know, a man who collects rarities of many kinds — in particular old papers, letters and documents."

"Er — hasn't he got some of Lord Macaulay's letters?" said Snubby innocently, remembering what Great-uncle had mentioned in the train.