"Blyton, Enid - The Five Find-Outers 15 - The Mystery of Banshee Towers 1.1" - читать интересную книгу автора (Blyton Enid)

"Yes," said Flint, sulkily, and went to tear down the cords that pulled the great curtains open or shut. He had soon tied the boys by their wrists and ankles very tightly indeed.

"You know these cords are too tight," said Fatty, between his teeth. "No need to be so brutal."

"Ha - you're not so funny now, are you!" said Flint. "Cheeking me out there, you was. Don't feel like cheeking me now, do you? "

Fatty heard another voice - the French artist's. He was in the great hall, with Engler. He was speaking in French, which Fatty understood perfectly. He strained his ears to listen. He was extremely surprised to hear noises as of a ladder being dragged along the hall, and set up somewhere. He listened hard. _That_ sounded like a knife being used to cut something. What on earth were they doing? Not damaging the pictures, surely!

Then he thought he heard the sound of a brush being slapped over some surface. A brush? A _paint_-brush probably. Was the Frenchman painting a picture out there, his easel set up as usual? No, it couldn't be that - he wouldn't _slap_ the paint on!

Flint, the turnstile man, finished tying Ern's wrists, stood back and grinned at the two angry boys. "Well - happy dreams!" he said. "And may the rats and mice run all over you tonight! This place is full of them."

"You wait till we see you again," said Fatty. "We'll be handing you over to the police, I hope! What are you all up to? Beats me!"

"You won't see me again - I'm off to the States!" said Flint. "America's the place for me now. We'll soon be off - and the old banshee can wail her head off for us, we shan't hear her!"

He went out. banged the door, and the boys heard the key being turned in the lock. Ern groaned as he lay trussed up on the floor beside Fatty.

"This is a nice how-do-you-do," he said. "Good thing the men don't guess we..."

"Shut up, Ern," hissed Fatty. "They may be listening, hoping we'll give something away. Can you stand up?"

"No," said Ern, trying. "Hallo, Bingo - pity you can't untie me. Is Buster clever enough to untie _you_, Fatty? Have you taught him things like that yet?"

Buster and Bingo were puzzled and distressed to see Fatty and Ern rolling on the floor, groaning as their cords seemed to get tighter and tighter. They licked the boys' faces, and whined pitifully. Fatty rolled to a settee and by means of using his tied hands, managed to get himself into a sitting position. He then stood up on his tied feet and began to hop to a window that overlooked the yard outside.

He was interested to see a small van there - a plain dark blue one. Flint, the turnstile man, must have just finished loading it. for he was at that moment slamming the door at the back. Then he went to the front, hopped into the driver's seat, and started up the engine. At the same time a car drove up behind it, and the two drove off together. Fatty quickly memorized the numbers of the van and of the car.

"JBL 333 - and POR 202," he muttered. "Gosh, I wish I could write those numbers down - I'll never remember them. Ern, can you remember JBL 333 and POR 202?"

"I don't think so," said poor Ern. "I can't think of anything but my wrists and ankles. Fatty, what are we going to do? We'll never be able to get these cords off."

"Of course we shall!" said Fatty. "I didn't want to get them off before those fellows went - I was afraid they might come back at any moment."

"But HOW can we get our hands free?" said Ern. "The cord's much too strong!"

Fatty hopped across to the wall, where a curious foreign knife hung. He raised his wrists behind his back and placed them so that the cords were against the edge of the knife. Very gently he began to rub the cords up and down the knife, careful not to press too hard and cut himself.

Ern watched him in admiration. Trust old Fatty to think of something smart! Fatty worked away and finally felt one cord give - then another. He pulled hard, and very thankfully felt the cords loosening and slipping off his hands.

"My word, my hands are all numb and stiff," he said, trying to bend them this way and that. "I'll undo yours, Ern, when I can feel some life in my fingers."

Buster ran to him and licked Fatty's hands, whining. He knew Fatty was in some kind of trouble and his doggy mind was upset and worried. There didn't seem to be anything at all that he could do for Fatty.

It was some time before Fatty could use his hands, and even then they were shockingly painful. He spent ages trying to undo Ern's cords. He dared not use the knife on them, for his hands were now too numb to use a knife safely.

But at last Ern's cords were undone too. His hands were worse than Fatty's, for Flint had tied them very viciously. Soon their ankles were untied as well, and life began to seem a little brighter.

"Are we going to escape down the underground passage?" asked Ern. "I don't think I can walk, though. My legs are all pins and needles and I can't feel my feet."