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

"Woof," said Buster, and went straight over to Bingo. He stood nose to nose with him, each sniffing at the other. Then Buster danced round Bingo, and Bingo gave a joyful bark, and away they went together, tearing down the road like mad things!

"Buster approves," said Larry. "_I_ rather approve of him too. A comical dog, but a real little sport. Well, if we're going to have tea at the bun-shop, what about it? And please don't eat more than six buns, Fatty - you want to be able to squeeze out of the door again!"

In they all went, made for their favourite table, and sat down. Fatty, as usual, had plenty of money, and that meant a good tuck-in for everyone. In the middle of the meal, the door was pushed open with a heave, and in trotted the two dogs, panting, their mouths open as if they were both laughing!

"Buster - go and shut the door after you," said Fatty sternly. "Have you forgotten your manners? Bingo, please notice that doors must be pushed shut, not left open, when you come in and out of rooms."

"Wuff," said Bingo, head on one side, listening carefully. He trotted over to the door and helped Buster to shut it, using both paws and nose.

"He's 'One of Us' already!" said Larry. "I'm beginning to like you, Bingo, old thing. Now sit! Buster, teach him how to sit. Gosh, look at that, Fatty - both sitting down side by side, as good as gold! We're going to have some fun with old Bingo!"



4 - MR GOON LOSES HIS TEMPER


Ern had been very busy indeed while the others had gone to the village. Mr Goon was in one of his worst tempers. He always was when he had met Fatty, whom he disliked very much.

"That fat boy!" he said to Ern. "I don't trust him an inch. Never did. It's a pity he's not as stupid as he looks. Too clever by half, he is!"

"He _doesn't_ look stupid, Uncle," said Ern, emptying some potatoes into a bowl of water to peel. "How could he when he's got such marvellous brains! You should hear him talk - luvaduck, he knows pretty well everything!"

"I'll luvaduck _you_ if you don't get on with those potatoes, Ern," said Mr Goon. "That fat boy's a menace - yes, that's the word for him - a menace!"

"What's a menace, Uncle?" asked Ern. "Anything to do with manners? Sounds a bit the same."

"I don't know if you're being rude, or just plain stupid, Ern," said Mr Goon majestically. "But this I do know - you'll get a clip on the ear soon."

"And one of these days my dog will bite you if you clip me!" cried Ern, almost at the end of his tether. "Now Uncle - don't you come any nearer. I'll throw this bowl of potatoes over you, if you do!"

Ern looked so fierce that Goon retreated hurriedly. "Now, now," he said, "don't take things so seriously, Ern. Can't you see a joke?"

"Depends who makes it," said Ern, feeling suddenly victorious, then his spirits fell again as he remembered his dog. Where _was_ old Bingo? Had he run away for ever? He sniffed a little as he went on peeling the potatoes, and when he remembered how Bingo ran to meet him and licked him lovingly each time he came home from school, a tear fell plop into the potato bowl.

"I'm a fathead - that's what Fatty would call me," thought Ern. "But I dunno - there's something about a dog that gets you - specially if it's your own."

Mr Goon went off to the police station, his boots well polished by Ern, and his helmet and uniform well brushed. Ern was glad to see him go. As soon as his uncle was out of sight he thought he would whistle for Bingo - just to see if by _any_ chance he would come.

So he whistled. Ern had a most piercing whistle, shrill, long and alarming. It made everyone within hearing jump in surprise and annoyance. Ern stood at the front gate and whistled for at least five minutes. No Bingo arrived - but a good many windows and doors were opened, and people began looking out to see if anything was the matter. They thought that it must be Goon blowing his police-whistle for help!

A small boy arrived, panting, at the front gate, "Any help wanted?" he asked. "We heard the police-whistle being blown."

"That was only me whistling for my dog," said Ern, astonished. Then, seeing people looking out of windows and doors, he shot inside Goon's house in a hurry. "They'll tell Uncle I was using his police-whistle," he thought desperately. "Luvaduck, what a day! Wish I was at home, measles and all!"

About half-past five Mr Goon returned home to see if Ern had put on the kettle and had made him some toast, as he had commanded. Fortunately for Ern, he had everything ready. Ern was right down in the dumps: no Fatty had come back, no Buster, no Bets - and certainly no Bingo. Ern didn't want any tea at all, a most unusual thing.

"This toast is burnt," said Mr Goon grumpily.