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

"That's quite right, sir," said Fatty, at once. "And I'm sure you won't blame me, sir. Goon went for poor old Ern, and he..."

"I'm afraid Ern will have to go _back_ to Goon," said the Chief. "It's his mother's wish - and parents do have _some_ rights, you know."

"All right, sir. I'll see to it," said Fatty, feeling very, very sorry for Ern.

"The second complaint, Frederick," said the clear voice down the telephone, "the second complaint is much more serious. It's been put in by a Mr Engler, the owner of Banshee Towers. He accuses you of breaking into the Towers, with another boy, whose name he doesn't know - and there are also two dogs complained of. Apparently dogs are not allowed inside, and you were told this - and yet you were found there with a _couple_! Whose is the second dog?"

"Ern's," said Fatty, in a small voice. His heart was sinking down and down and down.

"ERN'S! I didn't even know he _had_ a dog!" said the Chief.

"Yes, sir, he has. Called Bingo," said Fatty.

"What on _earth_ were you and Ern and two dogs doing wandering about Banshee Towers?" demanded the Chief. "Apparently it was closed for the day, and the doors were locked. Frederick, surely you _didn't_ break in anywhere?"

"Well, not exactly _break_ in, if you mean smash locks or windows or anything like that," said poor Fatty. "We certainly did _get_ in - we..."

The Chief gave a deep groan. "You are a very, very foolish boy, Frederick. You have played right into this fellow Engler's hands. He is a smart, spiteful, clever crook. We've been trying to pin something on him - and now you've messed things up by putting yourself in _his_ hands, Frederick. I simply do not know how I'm going to get you out of this fix."

"I know he's a crook, sir." said Fatty, in a small voice. "We were trying to catch him out sir - that phoney banshee wailing, for instance, and..."

"_You_ knew he was a crook!" said the Chief, very surprised. "How on earth... look here, Frederick, I'd better come round and see you. I simply never know what you are up to. The sooner you grow up and join the police force so that I can _really_ keep my eye on you, the better. Stay at home till I come. That's an order, see?"

He slammed down the telephone, and Fatty put back his own receiver, most surprised to find his hand shaking. Gosh - this wasn't funny at all. What in the world would his father say?

"I suppose I must be getting a bit too big for my boots," said Fatty to himself. "My word, I've never heard the Chief go off the handle like that before! Did I feel a worm? Yes, I certainly did. I only wish I had a nice, deep hole to go to!"

He called to his mother. "Mother! The Inspector will be along in a little while. Will you tell him we're down in my shed, please?"

Then away he went, hoping that his mother wouldn't call him back and ask him awkward questions. He opened the door of his shed, and went in.

"You look gloomy, Fatty. What's up?" said Bets, at once. Fatty sank down dramatically into a chair, sighed and passed his hand over his forehead.

"Well, I rather think I may have to go to prison - or to Borstal or somewhere," he said. "Old man Engler has put in a complaint about me - charged me with Breaking and Entering Banshee Towers. And Mr Goon has _also_ put in a complaint - that when Ern ran away, I 'harboured' him."

"You never harboured me!" said Ern, who hadn't the faintest idea of what "harbouring" really meant. "I'm not a ship! You just gave me board and lodging, Fatty - let me stay here in your shed."

"Well - that's another way of saying that I 'harboured' you - gave you shelter," said Fatty.

Ern jumped up at once. "I'll go back to my uncle's then," he said. "I won't let you get punished because you've been kind to _me_, Fatty! That's not fair!"

"Sit down, Ern," said Fatty. "We can't do anything for the moment. Chief Inspector Jenks is coming along here soon. I'll have to wait for him. I'd like you all to stay, though."

"Is my uncle coming too?" said Ern, fearfully.

"I don't think so." said Fatty. "Gosh - wouldn't _I_ like to put in a complaint about your _uncle_, Ern. In fact I can think of several complaints I could put in."

"Nothing to what _I_ could think of," said Ern, gloomily. "Shouting at me and almost deafening me. Clipping me on the ear. Pushing me around. Taking my..."