Mystery of Tally-Ho Cottage by Enid Blyton Page A

their wings and slept.’
    Ern lay down again, determined that he wouldn’t be disturbed by any more noises. There was no sign of Goon now, or of his companion. The owl had stopped hooting. The swans had stopped splashing. He didn’t mean to let himself be disturbed by ANYTHING else!
    He was soon half-asleep. Small noises came to him on the night-wind, and once he thought he heard voices, but was sure he was dreaming. He imagined he heard a dog barking and half-opened his eyes. Yes, it was. Probably Poppet - it sounded exactly like her high little bark. She’d get slapped for waking the couple up in the middle of the night!
    Ern fell into such a sound sleep that not even the owl awoke him when it came and sat on his very tree, and gave a sudden mournful hoot. Ern slept on. Dawn came slowly, and the sun sent golden fingers into the sky. Soon it would be light.
    Em awoke. He sat up, bewildered, but then remembered everything. He’d better get up and climb down the tree. His aunt would wonder where he was - she must be up and about.
    Ern was just about to climb down the tree when he heard shouting. Loud, angry shouts - and then he heard bangs - bang-bang-bang! BANG, BANG, BANG! Gracious goodness, what was all that? Ern slithered down the tree and went to the hedge and listened. The noise came from somewhere in the grounds of Tally-Ho House. Ern wondered what it was. It couldn’t be Fatty back again, and in trouble, surely!
    He slipped through the hedge and went by the Larkins’ cottage. The door opened and the old man came out, plump in his old overcoat, his scarf and cap on as usual. He limped over to Ern.
    ‘What’s that noise?’ he said, in his hoarse voice. You go and see. My wife’s ill today and I don’t want to leave her.’
    Ern nodded at the dirty old man and went cautiously in the direction of the noise. It grew louder. BANG-BANG! HELP! LET US OUT! BANG-BANG!
    Ern was mystified. Who was locked in and where - and why? It wasn’t Fatty’s voice, thank goodness.
    Ern went in the direction of the noise. It sounded round the further corner of the house, where the boiler-house was. Ern turned the corner and saw the small boiler-house not far off.
    Yes - the noise was coming from there. Ern looked at the little place fearfully. He wasn’t letting anyone out till he knew who they were!
    He went cautiously up to the boiler-house and stood on a box outside to look in at the small window. He was so astounded at what he saw that he fell off the box.
    Inside the boiler-house, furiously angry, were Mr. Goon and the other policeman! Their helmets were hanging on a nail. Ern saw two hot, furious faces upturned to him as he appeared at the window, and heard more loud shouts.
    ‘Open the door! Ern! What you doing here? OPEN THE DOOR AND LET US OUT!’
    Goon had been most astonished to see Ern’s scared face at the tiny little window, but very thankful. Now perhaps they could get out of this stifling boiler-house and get something to eat and drink.
    ‘Why did we ever come in here?’ groaned Goon, as he heard Ern struggling with the large, stiff key in the outer side of the door. ‘It was so cold, and it seemed such a good idea to light up the boiler and shut the door and have a little warm!’
    ‘Must have been the fumes that sent us off to sleep so sudden-like,’ said his companion dolefully. ‘I feel as if my head’s bursting. Drat that boy - why can’t he unlock the door?’
    ‘Buck up, Ern, you dolt!’ roared Mr. Goon. ‘We’re cooking-hot in here.’
    ‘Who locked us in?’ said the other man. ‘That’s what I want to know. It wouldn’t be the Lorenzos, would it now? They couldn’t have come after all, could they?’
    ‘No! I’ve told you - it was that boy Frederick Trotteville - the one we found here last night,’ said Goon crossly. ‘One of his funny tricks - ho, he’ll laugh on the other side of his face this time. l go straight to the Chief about this - dead straight! Locking us into a boiler-house - why we might have been dead with the