Mystery of Holly Lane by Enid Blyton

under my nose.”
    The tyre-marks were big and wide — too wide for an ordinary car, Fatty decided. Much more like those of a small removal van. He got out his notebook and sketched the pattern left in the mud by the tyres. Then he measured them across and entered the figure down in his notebook. The tyre patterns were so plain that Fatty thought the tyres must be quite new. That might be a help.
    Near by was a lamppost, and a mark on it caught Fatty’s eye. It was a straight brown mark, almost a cut in the white lamppost. Fatty looked at it.
    “That van might quite well have run too close to it,” he thought “Anyway, it’s worth noting down. ‘Van may be painted a chocolate-brown, and may have a scratch on wing about two feet from ground.’ Well, we’re getting on — I hope!”
    He shut his book, put it into his pocket and rode off with Buster in the front basket. He wanted to call a meeting of the Five Find-Outers that afternoon. This was a mystery, after all. And it needed getting down to, because there were quite a lot of suspects.
    “What a bit of luck that I went to look for Larry’s window-leather last night!” he said to himself, as he cycled home. “If I hadn’t gone and heard all that noise last night and hadn’t gone again to explore this morning, old Goon would have had the field to himself. He wouldn’t have told us a thing. Now, as it happens. I know more than he does!”
    “Wuff,” said Buster, agreeing thoroughly. “Wuff-wuff-wuff!”
     
    Fatty Tells Quite a Story.
     
    At three o’clock that afternoon Larry, Daisy, Pip and Bets came along to Fatty’s shed. He was already there, and on the bench at one side were two or three sheets of neatly written notes. Fatty was just reading them over.
    “Come in!” he called, and the four trooped in. They looked excited. Fatty had already telephoned to them to say that there really was a mystery now, and they wanted to know all about it.
    “All sorts of rumours are flying round, Fatty,” said Larry. “Is it true that somebody took away all the furniture in the middle of the night from Hollies Cottage — and the old man was found lying on the floor because the thieves even took his bed?”
    Fatty laughed. “How do people get hold of these things? It’s true that the furniture went — but the old man slept peacefully all through the robbery, on his own bed. They didn’t touch that. They did the job so quietly that he never heard a thing — snored all through it”
    “How do you know that,” said Pip, a little scornfully. “You weren’t there!”
    “Well, it so happens that I was,” said Fatty, surprising the others very much. They stared at him.
    “You were there — last night — when the furniture was all taken away?” said Larry at last. “Well, why didn’t you stop them, then?”
    “Because I had no idea what was being taken,” said Fatty. “It was pitch dark, and they did the whole thing so quietly. But look — let me tell you everything in its right order — quite a lot has happened actually — and we’ve got to get right down to this, and really find out what’s going on.”
    “Yes — but just let me interrupt for a minute,” said Larry. “Did you find my window-leather? Mother was on and on about it this morning.”
    “No, I didn’t,” said Fatty. “I’m sorry about that, but honestly it wasn’t anywhere to be found. All I hope is that Goon didn’t find it.”
    “Well, he’d think it belonged to the woman who cleans out Hollies Cottage,” said Daisy. “We’ll just have to buy Mother another one, Larry.”
    “Blow!” said Larry. “That really was a silly idea of yours, Fatty — making me go and clean those windows.”
    “Yes, but remember that it was all because of that that we’re in on this mystery,” said Fatty. “It really began with seeing that old man crawling about jabbing at all his furniture — and then us going to collect your leather and hearing him yelling for the police.”
    “That’s