Meantime, what had happened to Fatty?
The men had taken the letter from him and had gone out of the room, locking it again. Fatty guessed they were going to wait for one of the Find-Outers to come. He, too, went to the window and watched.
Nobody came that morning, as we know, until just before dinner-time. Then Pip arrived, and Fatty saw him pick up the letter, which had apparently been flung out of one of the lower windows.
Fatty watched Pip, but did not dare to whistle to him. The only hope for Pip would be for him to get away back to the others, and for them to read the secret note - if only, only they guessed there was a secret message for them!
In a little while the two men came back. “Well,” said the thin-lipped man, “I expect we shall soon have your friends down here - and you will be pleased to have company! You can have your dinner in a room not quite so comfortable as this, my boy - and as soon as your friends come, we will throw them all into the room with you!”
Fatty was made to go out of the comfortable secret room, and taken to a room on the floor below. It was quite empty, and very cold.
“Here are some sandwiches for you,” said the red-faced man, and he handed some to Fatty. “And here is a glass of water. We shall lock you in and bring your friends here as soon as we catch them. And here, I am afraid, you will have to stay for a day or two, till our important business is finished. Then maybe we will telephone to the police or your parents and tell them where to find their poor missing children! After this experience maybe you will not interfere in what doesn’t concern you!”
He gave Fatty another box on the ear, and then the two men went out. Fatty heard the key turning in the lock.
“Well,” he thought, “it’s jolly cold and uncomfortable in here - but on the other hand I believe I might be able to get out of this locked room! There’s no carpet on the floor here, and a jolly good space under the door. I’ll wait till everything is quite quiet and then I’ll try my little trick.”
He went to the window. There was certainly no way out there, for it was a sheer drop to the ground. No tree grew conveniently near by!
Fatty squatted down in a dusty corner and ate his sandwiches hungrily. He considered that the men had been very mean to him over food. They had plenty up there in that secret room, but all they had given him that day were two or three measly ham sandwiches! Fatty, who was used to tucking in at least four times a day, felt very annoyed.
He finished his meal, drank the water, and then went to the door. He listened hard. He could hear no sound at all.
He wondered if it would be a good idea to try and escape then and there. Perhaps the men were having a nap upstairs in the secret room. He knew there were three of them, though he had not seen the one called Jarvis, who was probably some kind of servant. Maybe Jarvis had been left to watch for the children.
Just as he was thinking he would push bis newspaper under the door, ready to receive the key when it dropped the other side, he heard footsteps. He drew back, and sat down in a corner of the room. But no one came in. Fatty looked at his watch. The afternoon was getting on now. Perhaps it would be best to wait till it began to get dark. Nobody would spot a newspaper sticking out from under the door in the darkness, but any one passing by now would certainly be suspicious.
So the boy set himself to wait in patience. He felt dirty and cold, hungry and tired. He thought this adventure was not at all pleasant at the moment - but then adventures often had unpleasant moments, and certainly he had brought this unpleasantness on himself!
Just as it began to get dark, Fatty looked out of the window. He felt certain he could see somebody skulking in the hedge. Who was it? He did hope it wasn’t one of the Find-Outers! He couldn’t make out Clear-Orf’s uniform, or he would have recognized the policeman, who had just arrived.
Fatty decided that he had better escape immediately in case the skulking figure he had seen was one of the Find-Outers! Then he could warn whoever it was - Pip or Larry, maybe - and they could escape together and tell Inspector Jenks everything.
He listened at the door. There was nothing to be heard. He unfolded his newspaper and pushed it carefully under the door until only a corner was left inside the room. Then he began to try and push the key out of the lock. It fell quite suddenly, making a little thud on the newspaper.
Fatty’s heart beat fast. Escape was very near now! He began to pull the newspaper sheet back into the room again. This was the anxious part - would the key slip under the door on the paper or not?
It did! Fatty saw it coming and picked it up thankfully. He slipped it into the lock on his side of the door.
He turned the key, and the lock slid back. He opened the door quietly and looked out on to the landing. No one was there. He locked the door again and left the key in the lock. Then, if any of the men came by, they would see the key there and imagine he was still in the locked room.
He wondered how to get out of the house. He was afraid of going out of the front door, because he would not dare to slam it - and if he left it open, some one might notice.
He thought he had better go down into the coal-cellar again and slip out of the hole. It was so dark that no one would see him.
So Fatty cautiously made his way downstairs and crept through the kitchen to the door that led down into the coal-cellar. He felt for the key. He thought it would be a very good idea to lock the door after him once he was in the cellar, then no one could come down after him if he found it impossible to get up through the hole into the garden.
He took out the key. He went through the cellar door and stood on the topmost step. He shut the door behind him, slid the key into the lock, and turned it. Then he took a deep breath. He was safe for the time being!
He stepped down into the cellar, and then he stopped in horror. Some one - some one was coming down the coalhole! He could hear them grunting and groaning. Who was it? Certainly not any of the Find-Outers!
Fatty’s heart began to beat painfully again. He heard the newcomer jump down on the coal. Fatty felt sure it was one of his captors, though why he should enter the house that way Fatty couldn’t imagine.
He made up his mind quickly. As the newcomer was slithering down the coal, Fatty jumped on him, made him overbalance and fall headlong into the farthest corner of the cellar.
Then, before he could pick himself up, Fatty struggled up the coal to the coal-hole. He felt it with his hands, gave himself a terrific heave up, and managed to balance himself in the middle of the opening. Gasping hard, he scrambled out, whilst from down below came the sound of mutterings and groanings.
Fatty had no idea at all that it was Clear-Orf down in the cellar. Once out of the hole, he felt about for the iron lid. Just as he was about to put it over the hole, Mr. Goon staggered to his feet, took his torch from his belt, and switched the light on so that the beam shone at the hole.
To Mr. Goon’s enormous astonishment he saw the face of “that Frenchy fellow” looking down at him! Yes, there was no doubt about it - there was the black curly hair, the pale face, the sticking-out teeth.
“Gr-r-r-r-r-r!” said Mr. Goon, so angry that he couldn’t speak properly. Fatty, blinded by the glare of the torch, blinked and hastily put the heavy lid back on the entrance to the coal-hole.
Then, afraid that his prisoner might do as he had done and climb out, Fatty dragged a barrel over the hole and stood it on top of the lid. It was about a quarter full of icy water, and it was quite certain that whoever was now down in the cellar could not get out either through the door or through the hole.
Fatty breathed more easily. The prisoner in the cellar began to shout and yell. But hardly a sound came up. Fatty did not think any one would hear the captive.
He crept silently round the hedges of the garden, on the look-out for any one else. But he saw nobody.
Then he heard a curious noise. What could it be? It was like a low and distant humming or throbbing.
“Sounds like an aeroplane,” said Fatty, puzzled. He looked up. To his surprise he saw what looked like a beam of light shining from the roof of Milton House.
“There’s a light of some sort being shown up there,” thought Fatty. “Could that be an aeroplane making that noise - and could that be a light to guide it to the fields near by? They are big enough for an aeroplane to land on them, that’s certain.”
The boy waited for a while. The noise came nearer. It seemed to circle round. Then, after a while, it stopped. Fatty felt certain it was an aeroplane that had landed in the fields behind Milton House. The beam on the roof-top of Milton House went out.
Fatty went into the summer-house, cuddled himself in the rugs there, and waited. Presently, in at a gate that led into the back part of the garden, came the sound of footsteps and the light of a lantern. Evidently the aeroplane passengers were to meet some one at Milton House!
Fatty suddenly felt terribly afraid. He didn’t understand at all what was going on. He only knew it was a mystery, and a dangerous mystery, and he had better get out of it as soon as ever he could.
Had the others read his secret message? Had they telephoned to Inspector Jenks? Were they doing something to help him? No one, as far as he knew, had come in search of him since Pip had taken the note. Fatty thought he had better go back to Pip’s or Larry’s and really find out if anything had been done. If something wasn’t done soon, the men would finish up their business, whatever it was, and clear off for good.
They would never come back to Milton House again, that was certain. They had been using it secretly for some time, but now that their meeting-place, or hiding-place, had been discovered, it would be of no use to them.
“So, unless I can get help straightaway, these men may escape for good!” thought Fatty. “Anyway, at any moment they may find I’ve escaped from that room, and be alarmed. They have only got to hop into that aeroplane and be off to another country if they wish!”
He slipped through the hedge into Chestnut Lane. He crept quietly up the lane, still keeping in the darkness of the hedge.
And quite suddenly he bumped hard into some one who was creeping down the lane, also keeping well in the shelter of the hedge! That some one clutched hard at Fatty, and held him tightly in a grip there was no getting away from.
A light was flashed into his eyes and a grim voice said, “And who are you, and what are you doing here?”
It was a voice Fatty knew well. He listened in delighted surprise.
“Inspector Jenks! Golly, I am glad to hear you!”