Wings Over Witchend, page 15
Mary shivered. "Which way shall we go, twin? Down to Onnybrook or down to Plowden?" and before he could answer they heard something heavy grinding up the hill. They called Mackie and stood at the entrance to the lane. It was a lorry packed with milk churns and the driver waved cheerfully as he passed on his way, down to Onnybrook.
"No clue there," Dickie said. "We've seen him before. We like him. Nobody could be hidden in those milk cans... Mary. What do you think was hidden in that furniture van we rode in the night we arrived? The driver didn't want us to see inside, did he? And do you remember all the questions he asked about Witchend?"
"Of course. And he asked the way to the White Horse down by Plowden. That man was sinister, Dickie. Let's explore that way."
So they set off down the hill and quite forgot that they had really promised not to go far from Witchend without asking permission.
A few cars and lorries passed them in each direction but none were what Dickie called a clue, although he admitted that the drivers and passengers in them might all be disguised members of the gang. They passed the road leading to Craven Arms and on their right now the steep slopes of the Long Mynd loomed above them. On the other side the thick woods came close up to the road.
About half a mile further on was the White Horse, a sinister-looking and shabby building with some ramshackle outhouses all below the level of the road. Now that they had arrived the twins looked at it without enthusiasm. They had passed the place before without really noticing it, and now it looked horrid with shut windows like blind eyes, and a grubby sign swinging and squeaking in the cold wind above the closed door. The only sign of life was a wisp of smoke from a chimney.
Even from the higher level of the road it was not possible to see behind the house, which was surprisingly large for such a remote situation. On its left was a large, rough space, obviously used as a parking place for lorries, and it looked as if there might be still more room behind the inn.
"If we ever walked right along the Mynd to the very end - this end I mean - and walked right over the top and walked straight on, we should come right down here, wouldn't we, Dickie?" Mary said. "I think this is a horrid place."
"All the same," her twin agreed, "I bet it's full of clues," and at that moment Mackie, sitting at their feet, growled a warning. Mary put her hand on his collar and then suddenly, from nearby, came the whine of a self-starter and the roar of an engine.
"There's a car coming from somewhere down there," Dickie said. "Let's spy on it."
They ran across to where a steep slope led down to the level of the inn, and were just in time to see an old car towing a long, box-like trailer on two wheels appear from behind the house.
"What a peculiar place to stay when you're towing a glider," Dickie said. "It will be jolly hard for him to turn it into the road. Keep a good look-out for cars and I'll policeman him out."
He stood in the middle of the road and signalled the driver forward. The slope was steep and the glider in the trailer must have been heavy, because even in lowest gear the car roared as it strained up the gradient.
"All clear. I can see both ways," Mary called, as Dickie waved the car ahead. The front wheels were on the road when they both recognized the driver. Dickie flashed a look of triumph at his sister and then shouted, "Hullo, Primrose! Do you remember us?"
Although she may not have heard Dickie above the noise of the engine, they both agreed later that she looked furious when she recognized them.
"Hullo," he shouted again. "How have you been getting on all this time? Why don't you come and see us at Witchend?"
Primrose Wentworth did not even lower the window to answer. As the end of the trailer swung into the road she raised a hand from the wheel and gestured fiercely to him to stand away. He was so surprised that he obeyed as she increased speed and drove away towards the Craven Arms turning.
"What did I tell you?" Dickie said quickly as Mary came up. "Didn't I say we'd find something? Why doesn't she want to speak to us? She looked livid, Mary. I was friendly, wasn't I? We helped her out and then she drove off like that in a temper."
Mary was looking very unhappy and worried.
"We've found out something again, Dickie. I remember now that she told Peter that first night that she wanted the White Horse... Dickie, listen. While you were trying to speak to her I was looking at the trailer. It's got doors at the back and they were locked with a sort of bar. But on the ledge at the bottom of the doors there was a lot of dry mud and a few bits of green... "
"Bits of green? What do you mean?"
"Bits of green leaf stuck in the mud. Bits of trees------ Dickie, I don't believe there was a glider in that trailer. I believe it's full of stolen Christmas trees. What shall we do?"
Dickie's heart banged with excitement.
"I'd like to explore this place. Could we just look in the yard behind the house before we go back and tell the others?"
Mary looked across at the dead face of the house and half stifled a scream.
"Come away, Dickie. There's a face watching us from a top window. I hate it. Don't look up."
He saw the sense of this and as they strolled off together. "What sort of face?" he whispered.
"I don't know. A horrible, quiet face just spying on us. Let's go back."
But Dickie, who hadn't seen anything, was bolder.
"While we're here, Mary, let's try and find out something more. If we hide in the woods the other side of the road we might see somebody come out. If we go back now and they say, all sort of stuck up, 'Who lives in that White Horse then?' I don't want to say we saw a face and ran away. Let's spy on them, Mary."
They were fifty yards back along the road now and opposite a cart track leading into the woods. Mackie liked the look of this and ran down it excitedly.
"Come on, Mary," Dickie pleaded. "It won't take long and we might find out something terrific... And look! Cars or lorries have been down here. See the ruts and tracks in the snow?"
Mary was usually the leader but to-day, for some reason she couldn't explain, she was frightened of the White Horse and of what they had discovered about Primrose. Perhaps because she had more perception than her twin she sensed something evil about the old inn.
"Let's see where this leads before we do any spying," Dickie suggested. "Somebody has been using it a lot."
The track twisted to the right and as soon as they were round the corner they stopped in surprise when they saw a half-ruined brick-built cottage about twenty yards ahead. It was not an ordinary cottage but Dickie realized what it was.
"This is the old railway Peter told us about. The line from Craven Arms to Bishop's Castle. That place is an old station. You can see the platform, Mary, and where the line used to run. It's like a sort of flat road now------
And look. Lorries and cars have been turning here. Why, Mary? Let's go and look at the old station."
His voice sounded loud in the silence of the wood and Mary still felt nervous of something she didn't really understand. A fear of the unknown.
When they were nearer they saw that where the rails had once been laid in a single track was now a grassy lane, and here again the snow had been churned into mud by the wheels of cars. The windows of the tiny waiting room and booking office had been without glass for years, and as they stepped across the threshold they realized that they had fitted together another part of the puzzle. The old booking office was packed from floor to ceiling with Christmas trees.
"You were right, Dickie. We've done it again. We've found out things the others can't. First Primrose and now this... We must tell the others as quickly as we can."
Before she had finished speaking Macbeth barked and dashed down the platform. The twins turned to see two men watching them from a few yards away. The larger was smart and well-dressed and wearing a leather coat with a fleece-lined collar. He was smoking a pipe and without taking it from his mouth he said to the man at his side, "Take the boy."
The second man was very nasty. Small and wiry, with unshaven chin, and wearing a grubby high-necked sweater and shabby corduroy trousers. He stepped forward with Mackie snapping at his heels, grabbed Dickie by the collar and swung him off his feet.
"Well, well," the big man said without raising his voice. "Little babes in the wood, eh? I think we'd better tuck you up somewhere nice and warm for a few hours."
Dickie was too surprised and scared to shout, but Mary and Mackie rushed to the rescue. They had no chance against two determined men who each tucked a twin under an arm and in spite of their struggles strode through the wood, along the road and down the slope into the yard of the White Horse. And here Dickie, who was sobbing with rage, fear and pain, made a final despairing effort to escape. For the last twenty yards he had been still, trying to gain strength, and then suddenly he kicked out and luckily found his captor's knee-cap. With a grunt of pain the man loosened his hold and Dickie scrambled free. The big man with Mary under his arm turned and as Dickie flew at him he lifted him from the ground by his collar. He was very strong and very angry, and Dickie found himself being shaken so hard that his teeth chattered and he fought for breath. But the smaller man was even angrier. For a moment he forgot Dickie and concentrated on the little black fury who, with incredible courage, had been attacking him for ten minutes. As Mackie ran in again he lashed out with his boot, and this time the vicious kick caught the little dog's head and bowled him over. For a few seconds he lay still with blood trickling down his nose and then the man stepped forward and kicked him again in the ribs and on the head. Even then, Mackie got up, shook his head and limped a few steps towards the bully.
"Leave the dog alone," the big man roared. "Open the door and get these brats out of the way," and dragging the still struggling twins across the yard he pushed them into a dark, stone-flagged hall. The door slammed behind them.
And in the dusk in front of the inn a brave little dog stood alone. He lifted his poor, battered head and barked defiance as a drop of his blood fell and stained the snow. He barked again and the bark turned into rather a pathetic howl of misery.
Then the door of the inn opened and a man with a gun stepped out. Mackie barked again. The man raised his gun and the sound of the shot echoed back from the snow-covered slopes of the mountain.
11. The Twins Defiant
It took both their captors to force the fighting twins up a flight of uncarpeted stairs in the White Horse and into a shabby sitting-room. Then they were pushed on to a black, shiny sofa while the two men muttered together before the smaller went out. Then the man with the pipe locked the door, put the key in his pocket and stood in front of the fireplace. He looked hot and dishevelled.
The twins sat side by side, close together. Dickie's coat was torn and his lip swollen and bleeding. Mary felt bruised all over and her face was scratched. Without realizing it they were sobbing. They looked very small and defenceless.
Then they heard Macbeth bark - a bark which changed into a howl. Mary jumped up and ran to the window.
"Sit down if you don't want that dog hurt," the man snapped.
Mary obeyed and said to her twin:
"We're at the back of the house. He's not there. You saw what that man did to him, Dickie? He kicked him and kicked him again when he was on the ground."
Dickie gulped and nodded. Then Mackie barked again and the silence that followed was broken by the sound of a gun-shot. They looked at each other in horror and then Mary covered her face in her hands and did not even try to check her tears.
The man took his pipe out of his mouth and said quietly, "Nice little dog that, but too noisy."
Dickie jumped up and rushed at him, and when he was pushed back on the sofa he stood up again, and with one hand on his sister's bowed head he said in a choky sort of whisper, "You let that other man kick our dog and now if you've killed him we'll kill you. A little wounded dog, and never, never, never will there be another like him, and you've done the most awful thing that could ever happen in our lives. Just because you're bigger than us you needn't think we're afraid. We're not, and you'd just better let us out quickly before our father and our friends come and find us. You'll be sorry then. You're the biggest bully we've ever seen and we know who you are. We saw that Primrose driving off with Christmas trees in a glider trailer. We know all about you.
"Now we'd like you to go away," Dickie went on. "You make us feel sick. It would be a good idea if you went a long way away jolly quickly. I wouldn't like to be you when our father finds you. You won't like it either. He'll be here soon - with the police. We told him where we were going. Down to the White Horse we said, didn't we, Mary?"
She was a little better now that her twin was so brave, but she still felt sick with horror at the thought of their darling Mackie.
"And you needn't think we're scared," she went on gallantly. "We just loathe you so utterly that you make us sick like Dickie said."
"P'raps you haven't noticed it," Dickie said quite brightly, "but this room smells. P'raps it's your pipe?" And then they both sat down on the sofa together and sniffed.
The man looked at them in grudging admiration. He didn't want to hurt them and would much prefer to let them go, but they had found the hiding place of the stolen trees. They also knew that Primrose was associated with them and had made a very shrewd guess as to what was really inside the glider trailer. He dare not let them go now for they knew too much.
"Now listen to me," he said with what he hoped was a winning smile. "I'm not going to do anything to you for being so saucy. I'm not going to hurt you------"
"You like hurting little helpless dogs best, o' course," Mary put in. "You can't hurt us anymore. Only by staying here. We told you. You make us feel ill."
The man gulped and his face went very red. "You're just going to stay here for a little while. That's all. Keep quiet and you'll be no trouble and in the morning you can go home."
"Ha! Ha!" Dickie shouted. "We'll be back before then. Don't you worry. You'll be jolly sensible if you let us go now, but we don't s'pose you will."
"Stop showing off," the man said quietly. "Nobody knows you're here except Harry. Your parents wouldn't have allowed you to come here on your own and you can't fool me. Now listen carefully and answer carefully. How many will be sleeping at Witchend tonight and how many in the farm down the lane?"
This was easy to the twins, and although they were shaken by his shrewd guess about nobody knowing where they were, they knew they could soon fool him if he proposed to question them. And they didn't even have to look at each other to know what they intended to do.
Mary fluttered her eyelids and then looked down at her hands folded in her lap.
"Well acksherley of course there's quite a lot. There's Dickie an' me and our father and mother and Agnes. And David - he's our brother and very strong. Then there's our three big, strong uncles------"
"Four, Mary. You've forgotten Uncle Percy."
"No I haven't, twin. It's Uncle Wilfred I forgot. That makes six uncles, so you can see that we do get a bit crowded. Did you want to come and stay with us? I don't think we should like that."
"You little liar," the man said.
"You've forgotten Grandpa," Dickie suggested. "Oh, but I forgot. He's staying at Ingles with his two grown-up sons who are policemen. P'raps you'd like to stay there?"
"Yes, Dickie, but I don't think this gentleman is very interested in policemen. Uncle Alf - that's Mr. Ingles - told me this morning that he likes to have a few policemen about at this time of year. He said they reminded him of Christmas, but I can't think why, can you?"
For a few wonderful moments both of them had forgotten Mackie. The man was beginning to lose his temper and this meant he might give something away. But he was too clever for that. He went very red again and then felt in his pocket for his wallet.
"Stop being funny," he said quietly. "You're wasting your time and I'm busy. I don't want to hurt you and I won't do so if you keep quiet and do as I tell you. You won't be kept here very long if you behave yourselves. And if you do behave yourselves I'm going to give you both a nice little present," and with this he produced two ten-shilling notes.
"Keep it," Dickie said rudely.
And, "Please go away," Mary added and, as she did so, there came a sharp knock on the door and an urgent whisper of, "Chief! Got some news, Chief."
The Chief glared at the twins and shouted, "Stay there. I'll come out," and locked the door behind him.
In a flash the children ran over and pressed their ears to the door. The two men were only on the landing and they could hear every word spoken.
"Charles and George have got another of 'em, Chief. No trouble at all, Charles says, and they've put him in the next room to the other. Wanted you to know right away."
"Good enough," came the Chief's quieter voice. "What have you done with the dog?"
The twins held their breath. Mary clutched her twin so fiercely that her nails scratched his wrist.
"Missed him," came the muttered answer. "Scared him proper, though. He went off up the road like a scalded cat."
"He's escaped!" Mary yelled with the tears streaming down her face. "He's safe, Dickie! They tried to kill him and he's escaped!"
Dickie beat a triumphant tattoo on the door with his fists.
"Bullies! Bullies!" he shouted. "Let us out before we smash the house down. LET US OUT!"
The Chief unlocked the door, took them each by the collar of their coats and flung them back on to the sofa.
"Stop that row," he snapped. "Shut up, unless you want to get hurt."
They stood up again and faced him. Their faces were stained with blood and dirt and tears. Without even speaking to each other they knew that now Mackie was safe there wasn't much else their captors could do to hurt them. Everything was different now.
