Five Run Away Together Part 4

That made everyone laugh. "Edgar, the Dog's Dinner!" said Anne. "Any biscuits in that tin on the sideboard, do you think, George?"

George got up to see. Timothy slipped out of doors and went to the dish put down for.him. He sniffed at it. George, coming back from the sideboard, looked out of the window as she pa.s.sed and saw him. At once the thought of poison came back to her mind and she yelled to Timothy, making the others jump out of their skins.

TIM! TIM! Don't touch it!"

Timothy wagged his tail as if to say he didn't mean to touch it, anyway. George rushed out of doors, and picked up the mess of raw meat. She sniffed at it.

"You haven't touched it, have you, Timothy?" she said, anxiously.

d.i.c.k leaned out of the window.

. "No, he didn't eat any. I watched him. He sniffed all round and about it, but he wouldn't touch it. I bet it's been dosed with rat-poison or something."

George was very white. "Oh Timmy!" she said. "You're such a sensible dog. You wouldn't touch poisoned stuff, would you?"

"Woof!" said Timmy, decidedly. Stinker heard the bark and put his nose out of the kitchen door.

George called to him in a loud voice: "Stinker, Stinker, come here! Timmy doesn't want his dinner. You can have it. Come along, Stinker, here it is!"

Edgar came rushing out behind Stinker. "Don't you give that to him," he said.

"Why not?" asked George. "Go on, Edgar-tell me why not."

"He don't eat raw meat," said Edgar, after a pause. "He only eats dog biscuits."

"That's a lie!" said George, flaming up. "I saw him eating meat yesterday. Here, Stinker - you come and eat this."

Edgar s.n.a.t.c.hed the bowl from George, almost snarling at her, and ran indoors at top speed. George was about to go after him, but Julian, who had jumped out of the window when Edgar came up, stopped her.

"No good, old thing!" he said. "You won't get anything out of him. The meat's probably at the back of the kitchen fire by now. From now on, we feed Timothy ourselves with meat bought from the butcher with our own money. Don't be afraid that he'll eat poisoned stuff. He's too wise a dog for that."

"He might, if he was terribly, awfully hungry, Julian," said George, looking rather green now. She felt sick inside. "I wasn't going to let Stinker eat that poisoned stuff, of course, but I guessed that if.it was poisoned, one of the Sticks would come rushing out and stop Stinker eating it. And Edgar did. So it proves it was poisoned, doesn't it?"

"I rather think it does," said Julian. "But don't worry, George. Timmy won't be poisoned."

"But he might, he might," said George, putting her hand on the big dog's head. "Oh, I can't bear the thought of it, Julian. I can't, I really can't."

"Don't think about it then," said Julian, taking her indoors again. "Here, have a biscuit!"

"You don't think the Sticks would poison us, do you?" said Anne, looking suddenly scared and gazing at her biscuit as if it might bite her.

"No, idiot. They only want to get Timmy out of the way because he guards us so well," said Julian. "Don't look so scared. All this will settle down in a day or two, and we'll have a grand time after all. You'll see!"

But Julian only said this to comfort his little sister. Secretly he was very worried. He wished he could take Anne, d.i.c.k and George back to his own home. But he knew George wouldn't come. And how could they leave her to the Sticks? It was quite impossible. Friends must stick together, and somehow they must face things until Aunt f.a.n.n.y and Uncle Quentin came back.

Chapter Seven.

BETTER NEWS.

"Do you think we'd better slip down after the Sticks have gone to bed and get some food out of the larder again?" said d.i.c.k, when no supper appeared that evening.

Julian didn't feel inclined to sneak down and confront Mr. Stick again. Not that he was afraid of him, but the whole thing was so unpleasant. This was their house, the food was theirs-so why should they have to beg for it, or take it on the sly? It was ridiculous.

"Come here, Timothy!" said Julian. The dog left George's side and went to Julian, looking up at the boy inquiringly. "You're going to come with me and persuade dear kind Mrs. Stick to give us the best things out of the larder!" said Julian, with a grin.

The others laughed, cheering up at once.

"Good idea!" said d.i.c.k. "Can we all come and see the fun."

"Better not," said Julian. "I can manage fine by myself."

He went down the pa.s.sage to the kitchen. The radio was going inside, so no one in the kitchen heard Julian till he was actually standing inside the door. Then Edgar looked up and saw Timothy as well as Julian.

Edgar was scared of the big dog, who was now growling fiercely. He went behind the kitchen sofa and stayed there, eyeing Timmy fearfully.

"What do you want?" said Mrs. Stick, turning off the radio.

"Supper," said Julian, pleasantly. "Supper! The best things out of the larder-bought with my uncle's money, cooked on my aunt's stove with gas she pays for-yes, supper! Open the larder door and let's see what there is in there."

"Well, of all the nerve!" began Mr. Stick, in amazement.

"You can have a loaf of bread and some cheese," said Mrs. Stick, "and that's my last word."

"Well, it isn't my last word," said Julian, and he went to the larder door. Timmy, keep to heel! Growl all you like, but don't bite anybody-yet!"

Timmy's growls were really frightful. Even Mr. Stick put himself at the other end of the room. As for Stinker, he was nowhere to be seen. He had gone into the scullery at the very first growl, and was how shivering behind the wringer.

Mrs. Stick's mouth went into a hard straight line. "You take the bread and cheese and clear out," she said.

Julian opened the larder door, whistling softly, which annoyed Mrs. Stick more than anything else. "My word!" said Julian, admiringly. "You do know how to stock a larder, I must say, Mrs. Stick. A roast chicken! I thought I smelt one cooking. I suppose Mr. Stick killed one of our chickens today. I thought I heard a lot of squawking. And what fine tomatoes! Best to be got from the village, I've no doubt. And oh, Mrs. Stick-what a perfectly marvellous treacle tart! I must say you're a good cook, I really must."

Julian picked up the chicken, the dish of tomatoes, and then balanced the plate with the treacle tart on the top.

Mrs. Stick yelled at him. "

"You leave them things alone! That's our supper! You leave them there."

"You've made a little mistake," said Julian, politely. It's our supper! We've had very little to eat today, and we could do with a good supper. Thanks awfully!"

"Now look "ere!" began Mr. Stick, angrily, furious at seeing his lovely supper walking away.

"You surely don't want me to look at you again," said Julian, in a tone of amazement. "What for? Have you shaved yet-or washed? I'm afraid not. So, if you don't mind I think I'd rather not look at you."

Mr. Stick was speechless. He was not ready with his tongue at any time, and a boy like Julian took his breath away, and left him with nothing to say except his favourite "Now, look 'ere!"

"Put them things down," said Mrs. Stick sharply. "What do you think we're going to have for our supper if you walk off with them; you tell me that!"

"Easy!" said Julian. "Let me offer you our supper-bread and cheese, Mrs. Stick, bread and cheese!"

Mrs. Stick made an angry noise, and started to go after Julian with her hand raised. But Timothy immediately leapt at her, and his teeth snapped together with a loud click.

"Oh!" howled Mrs. Stick. "That dog of yours nearly took my hand off! The brute! I'll do for him one day, you see if I don't."

"You had a good try today, didn't you?" said Julian, in a quiet voice, fixing his eyes straight on the woman's face. "That's a matter for the police, isn't it? Be careful, Mrs. Stick. I've a good mind to go to the police tomorrow."

Just as before, the mention of the police seemed to frighten Mrs. Stick. She cast a look at her husband and took a step backward. Julian wondered if the man had done something wrong and was hiding from the police. He never seemed to put a foot out of doors.

The boy went up the pa.s.sage triumphantly. Timmy followed at his heels, disappointed that he hadn't been able to get a nibble at Stinker. Julian marched into the sitting-room, and set the dishes carefully down on the table.

"What ho!" he said. "Look what I've got-the Sticks"

own supper!" Then he told the others all that had happened, and they laughed loudly.

"How do you think of all those things to say?" said Anne, admiringly. "I don't wonder you make them feel wild, Ju. It's a good thing we've got Timmy to back us up."

"Yes, I shouldn't feel nearly so bold without Timmy," said Julian.

It was a very good supper. There were knives and forks in the sideboard, and the children made do with fruit plates from the sideboard too, rather than go and get plates from the kitchen. There was bread over from their tea, so they were able to make a very good meal. They enjoyed it thoroughly.

"Sorry we can't give you the chicken bones, Tim," said George, "but they might split inside you and injure you. You can have all the sc.r.a.ps. See you don't leave any for Stinker!"

Timmy didn't. With two or three great gulps he cleared his plate, and then sat waiting for any sc.r.a.ps of treacle tart that might descend his way.

The children felt cheerful after such a good meal. They had completely eaten the chicken. Nothing was left except a pile of bones. They had eaten all the tomatoes too, finished the bread, and enjoyed every sc.r.a.p of the treacle tart.

It was late, Anne yawned, and then George yawned too. "Let's go to bed," she said. "I don't feel like having a game of cards or anything."

So they went to bed, and as usual Timothy lay heavily on George's feet. He lay there awake for some time, his ears c.o.c.ked to hear noises from below. He heard the Sticks go up to bed. He heard doors closing. He heard a whine from Stinker. Then all was silence. Timmy dropped his head on to his paws and slept-but he kept one ear c.o.c.ked for danger. Timothy didn't trust the Sticks any more than the children did!

The children awoke very early in the morning. Julian awoke first. It was a marvellous day. Julian went to the window and looked out. The sky was a very pale blue, and rosy-pink clouds floated about it. The sea was a clean blue too, smooth and calm. Julian remembered what Anne often said-she said that the world in the early morning always looked as if it had come back fresh from the laundry - so clean and new and fresh!

The children all bathed before breakfast, and this time they were back at half-past eight, afraid that George's father might telephone early again. Julian saw Mrs. Stick on the stairs and called to her.

"Has my uncle telephoned yet?"

"No," said the woman, in a surly tone. She had been hoping that the telephone would ring while the children were out, then, as she had done the day before, she could answer it, and get a few words in first.

"We'll have breakfast now, please," said Julian. "A. good breakfast, Mrs. Stick. My uncle might ask us what we'd had for breakfast, mightn't he? You never know."

Mrs. Stick evidently thought that Julian might tell his uncle if she gave them only bread and b.u.t.ter for breakfast, so very soon the children smelt a delicious smell of bacon frying. Mrs. Stick brought in a dish of it garnished with tomatoes. She banged it down on the table with the plates. Edgar arrived with a pot of tea and a tray of cups and saucers.

"Ah, here is dear Edgar!" said Julian, in a tone of amiable surprise. "Dear old spotty-face!"

"Garn!" said Edgar, and banged down the teapot. Timmy growled, and Edgar fled for his life.

George didn't want any breakfast. Julian put hers back in the warm dish and put a plate over it. He knew that she was waiting for news. If only the telephone would ring-then she would know if her mother was really better or not.

It did ring as they were halfway through the meal. George was there before the bell had stopped pealing. She put the receiver to her ear. "Father! Yes, it's George. How's Mother?"

There was a pause as George listened. All the children stopped eating and listened in silence, waiting for George to speak. They would know by her next words if the news was good or not.

"Oh-oh, I'm so glad!" they heard George say. "Did she have the operation yesterday? Oh, you never told me! But it's all right now, is it? Poor Mother! Give her my love. I do want to see her. Oh Father, can't I come?"

Evidently the answer was no. George listened for a while, then spoke a few more words and said good-bye.

She ran into the sitting-room. "You heard, didn't you?" she said, joyfully. "Mother's better. She'll get all right now, and will be back home soon-in about ten days. Father won't come back till he brings her home. It's good news about Mother-but I'm afraid we can't get rid of the Sticks."

Chapter Eight.

GEORGE'S PLAN.

MRS. STICK had overheard the conversation on the telephone-at least, she had heard George's side of it. She knew that George's mother was better and that her father would not return till her mother could be brought home. That would be in about ten days! The Sticks could have a fine time till then, no doubt about that!

George suddenly found that her appet.i.te had come back. She ate her bacon hungrily, and sc.r.a.ped the dish round with a piece of bread. She had three cups of tea, and then sat back contentedly.

"I feel better," she said. Anne slipped her hand in hers. She was very glad that her aunt was going to be all right. If it wasn't for those awful Sticks they could have a lovely time. Then George said something that made Julian cross.

"Well, now that I know Mother is going to be better, I can stand up to the Sticks all right by myself with Timmy. So I want you three to go back home and finish the hols without me. I shall be all right."

"Shut up, George," said Julian. "We've argued this all out before. I've made up my mind-and I don't change it, any more than you. do, when I've made it up. You make me cross."

"Well," said George, "I told you I'd got a plan-and you don't come into it, I'm afraid-and you'll find you'll have to go back home whether you mean to or not."