Part 4 (2/2)

”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 fres.h.!.+

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.”

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