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

"Oh, I think that after the kind of treatment the spiteful Mr Engler served out to us he really can't complain of anything _we_ do!" said Fatty, reading some of the letters. "In any case, Ern, I intend to give them to Inspector Jenks. He will be very pleased indeed to have them."

"Coo!" said Ern, astonished. "I wouldn't say that, Fatty. He might lock you up for taking them. Better leave them here."

Fatty took no notice. He was absorbed in one or two of the letters. Ern peeped at the heading on each. "The Hedling Art Gallery, Diddinghame, U.S.A." was one. "Art Shows Company, New York, U.S.A." was another. "Grand Pictures Company, Hinkling, U.S.A." a third. "Gracious!" thought Ern. "What does Fatty think he can find in letters like that!"

He peeped down a sheet that Fatty was absorbed in reading, but couldn't make head or tail if it. "Just a list of pictures, and prices and artists," thought Ern. He spoke aloud.

"Fatty, I reckon we're just wasting time now. Let's go. Those fellows might come back sooner then we expect - and anyway Bets and the others might already be sending help to us, you know. That'd be a waste of time, seeing that we can just walk out and go home when we want to!"

"Right, Ern," said Fatty. "Just let me make a list of the Art Galleries listed here that buy pictures from Engler." He scribbled quickly, and then took a last look round. "We'll just peep in the room next door first. I have a feeling we still haven't seen quite all I expected to see."

They went into the next room, a smaller one. Ern stared in surprise. It was fitted up as a very comfortable bedroom! A large wardrobe stood open, showing many clothes hanging there. Thrown across an unmade bed was a dark painting overall, covered with smudges of oil-paint. A book lay on a table beside the bed.

Fatty picked it up. "At a guess I should say this book was a French one!" he said. He looked down at it and nodded. "Yes - all about famous Continental pictures - especially pictures of the sea!" Fatty turned to the flyleaf at the beginning of the book. "And here the owner has kindly written his name - it belongs to that French artist, of course - and here is his address - Francois Henri Ortalo, 91, Rue Carnot, Paris. Very nice of him to leave it so handy! Interesting to see that Mr Engler has given him such a nice room to live in, too. He must be very useful to him!"

"Oh, do stop messing about with books and letters!" said Ern desparingly. "I want to go! I hate this place. At any moment I expect to hear that awful banshee-wail."

"All right, Ern, we'll go," said Fatty, scribbling quickly again in his notebook. "I think we'd better make ourselves scarce, anyway, in case Mr Engler pops back again through the front door. I don't feel inclined to meet him again today. I don't like his manners!"

"He's a beast," said Ern "My ankles still feel as if I've been running for miles, they ache so, where they were tied."

"Ah well," said Fatty, snapping shut his notebook. "We'll soon forget our wrists and ankles. Actually I'm feeling rather bucked. I think I've now got the whole mystery wrapped up very neatly indeed!"

"You're boasting Fatty!" said Ern, disbelievingly. "What about the little painted boat that disappeared from that picture downstairs? I bet you don't know how _that_ happened?"

"Well, we'll see," said Fatty. "I really think I'm beginning to see daylight! We'll go home now and find the others and tell them what we've found. Let's see - they had to escape down that underground passage in the hill - and find their bikes - and then ride home."

"Well, unless they stopped on the way to have ice-creams or something, they will be home before us," said Ern.

"They'd hardly stop for ice-creams when they knew we were in trouble!" said Fatty.

"No, I forgot that," said Ern. "Come on - let's go downstairs, slip out of the front door with the dogs, and run down the hill to where we left our bikes underneath that bush."

They went down the stairs with the two excited dogs, both wagging their tails madly, though as Ern pointed out, Bingo's tail _waved_ rather than wagged, it was so very very long!

They opened the front door and slipped out, shutting it quietly behind them. They made their way cautiously down the hill, keeping close to the hedges, half-afraid of seeing Mr Engler and his companions somewhere about. The two dogs, sensing that all was not quite right with their masters, pressed close to their heels, and didn't even attempt to go sniffing for rabbits.

At last they came to where they had left their bicycles, hidden in bushes. They looked round for the bicycles belonging to the other four, but they were gone.

"Good - then they got down the banshee passage safely." said Fatty. "They can't really be very much in front of us now - we were pretty quick down that hill!"

They were soon riding fast down the rest of the hill, the dogs bumping in their boxes behind. It was a miracle that they didn't fall out, for the boys went so fast.

"What do we do when we get back?" shouted Ern. "I hope you won't go and report everything to my Uncle Goon. I wouldn't like that. You know I'm in trouble with him!"

"Don't worry, Ern. We hold all the winning cards now," shouted back Fatty, comfortably. "I rather think we ought to go over Goon's head, and get in touch with Chief Inspector Jenks. We know him quite well enough. This is a bit too big a thing for a village policeman to handle."

"Luvaduck!" said Ern. in awe. "But won't the Chief Inspector think it's a bit cheeky of us to telephone him? I mean, he's a Big Noise, he is."