Wings Over Witchend, page 18
"Count me in," Tom said quickly. "We'll follow their footsteps in the snow from the camp. Don't worry. We'll soon find them."
"I'll come too," Peter pleaded and then, in a moment's silence, they heard a horrid sort of thump against the door and a faint, whimpering cry. She had the door open before anyone could move or speak and her cry of horror echoed through the room.
"It's Mackie! Oh! The poor darling. Look at him." She lifted his battered little body in her arms and he tried to raise his head to lick her face. Mrs. Morton went very white and sat down suddenly as the others crowded round Peter.
"Let's look at him under the light," Mr. Morton said sensibly. "Hot water and disinfectant, Agnes. Spread some paper on the rug, David."
Two spots of red were burning in Peter's cheeks as she pushed through them towards the fire. She was so angry that her voice shook as she sat in Agnes' chair and held the little dog to her.
"This wasn't an accident. He's been deliberately struck with something heavy. Look, Mr. Morton! It's his poor, darling head. It's cut and swollen."
She moved her fingers tenderly over his shaggy black coat, now all matted with blood and mud, and he whined pathetically and then tried to wag his tail. Mr. Morton moved over to his wife's chair and put his arm round her shoulders.
"Nobody would hurt our two, my dear. Don't worry. Mackie has got himself into trouble and found his way home to us."
"He'd never leave them unless he was forced," Mrs. Morton whispered with her hand over her eyes. "If he could only speak to us... What shall we do?"
Mr. Morton beckoned to Tom.
"Run down to your uncle, Tom. Tell him about the twins and Mackie and ask him to bring you back in the Land Rover. We want him in on this. And get him to telephone the police and ask them to get in touch with Hamish. He's to be told that the twins haven't turned up yet but that some of us are going out to look for them. And they're to be told about the dog, too... Come back as soon as you can."
Tom was struggling into his boots before Mr. Morton finished speaking. "Stay with Peter," he said to Jenny and ran out into the snow. Then Agnes came back with a bowl of hot water and cotton wool and a bottle of disinfectant. Peter refused to put Mackie down so they covered her lap with old towels, and after they had cleaned his wounds Mr. Morton gave him some brandy in milk and he wagged his tail again. He was breathing badly and Peter feared that his ribs were broken, but he was undoubtedly stronger and she believed that he would live. A few minutes later they heard the Land Rover and Mr. Ingles' step outside, and Mackie actually growled. Peter looked up with tears in her eyes and saw that Jenny was not even trying to check hers. "He's so brave," she whispered.
There wasn't much that Mr. Ingles didn't know about animals. He nodded to the others and said, "Got through to the police. Don't you worry, Mrs. Morton. They'll soon be found. Now let's look at the dog. Nice work, Peter."
He whistled as he looked at the cuts and bruises and then very gently felt his body.
"This isn't a fall. He's been kicked, or hit with a stone. He'll be all right, I reckon. They're tough little chaps... Good boy, Mackie. Where are those two rascals, eh?"
Then, to their amazement, Mackie raised his head, wagged his tail and looked at the floor.
"Put him down, Peter. He must sleep warm and quiet. Got an old basket, Agnes?"
Peter lifted him down. He stood for a moment very unsteadily and then looked round at them all. Then he took a step towards Mrs. Morton who went down on her knees to him. Then he changed direction and took three steps towards the door and collapsed.
"He's trying to tell us where they are," she cried, and burst into tears.
Peter took the dog in her arms again and put him in the lid of an old cardboard box which Agnes had found. They fed him again with brandy and milk and tucked him up in an old blanket, and while Mr. Morton was telling them their plans he sighed and slept.
"Ingles and I are going off in the Land Rover to look for them. Tom and David can do as they suggested and see if they can follow the twins by their footsteps. You girls stay here, please, just in case they come back while we're away. We've got to go up to the forest soon, but we'll come back here first... Got a good torch, David?"
David nodded and went over to his mother.
"We'll find them, darling," he whispered and then, without a word to the girls, he beckoned to Tom and the boys went out together. The moon was not yet up and it was dark by the side of the larch wood as they climbed up towards the camp.
"They must have gone through the wood towards the farm," Tom reasoned. "We should have seen them while we were packing up if they'd come down this way."
They turned into the wood and found two clear prints in the snow under a tree.
"They waited here," David guessed. "I bet they were having a council of war."
The next prints were on the slope leading down to Ingles. "We know they didn't go into the farm," Tom said. "Aunt Betty was in all the afternoon."
"They couldn't go anywhere except along the lane, then," David reasoned. "They wouldn't have gone through the wood if they'd wanted to go straight back to Witchend or up to the forest. They didn't go into the farm, so they must have gone on to the main road where Peter and I were last night."
When they reached the main road they tried to imagine what the twins would have done.
"I know you reckon I'm hard on them sometimes, David," Tom said as he jammed his hands in his pockets and stared down the hill towards Onnybrook. "I s'pose I am really but I don't mean it. They're saucy - that's their trouble - and they make me mad."
"I know, Tom. Nobody knows better than I do how maddening they can be, but more than half of it is an act. They pretend to be babyish just because that act was successful years ago. Now that they go to different schools they're worse than ever in the holidays. They really do hate being parted, Tom, and I s'pose you know they think the world of you."
"Wouldn't blame them if they thought I was mud," Tom muttered. "I'm not going back to Witchend until I've got some news for your mother. Now what would they do if they came here?"
"They'd try and find something we've missed," David said. "They'll follow anything up and bluff their way out of most troubles... I don't think they'd go down to Onnybrook, Tom. They'd remember that Peter told Martin last night about the old Bishop's Castle railway and the White Horse. Let's go down that way. I've got a hunch about it."
They trotted most of the way and when they reached the inn they found a police car in the road and another in the yard. A constable flashed his torch on them, but when David asked for Mr. Hamish the man told him that he was in the house. The boys ran down and met the detective just coming out.
"Good," Hamish said when he recognized them. "We've news of your twins. We've put the man Hodges here through it again and he's admitted that about ten men have been staying here. He swears he doesn't know where they've gone and that they owe him for food and for a broken window in an upstairs room. Says he believes they had two kids with them when they went. Anyway, we've searched the place and there's nobody hiding there now... I'll send you back in a car. Tell your parents that I think your twins discovered something about the gang and that they've had to take them with them... Tell them not to worry, David. These men are thieves. They don't want to hurt children."
A quarter of an hour later the boys were at Witchend again. Macbeth was sleeping and when they told Mrs. Morton about the police at the White Horse she said, "Of course that's what has happened. I was always sure that the twins had either been captured by the thieves or had an accident. Why didn't you all listen to me and keep out of this business?"
"It would have caught up with us, darling," Peter said. "It would really. Nobody will ever really hurt your twins and I'm sure they'll be found soon. Anyway I've got an idea. Mr. Morton and Mr. Ingles and the others have promised to guard the forest and we've promised to go up the fire tower. We can't all hunt in different places for the twins because we're fairly sure now that they're with the thieves. I suggest that Tom and Jenny ask Mr. Burton if they can do the watch on the fire tower, and if we get a chance David and I will go up on the mountain. I believe we might get a clue about the twins up there."
Then Mr. Morton and Mr. Ingles came back and had to be told the story again, and both agreed that the police would find the twins more easily than anyone else. Mr. Morton hated the idea of leaving his wife and Agnes alone and warned them to lock the door and not to open it to any strangers.
"I'd send Betty up here," Mr. Ingles shouted as they all packed into the Land Rover. "She'd be right glad to come, but I don't want the farm left either. We'll get this business settled to-night, and the best place for you kids will be up that tower."
They roared down to Onnybrook and picked up four more volunteers and then up Dark Hollow to the Forestry headquarters.
Mr. Hardwick told them that he was going to stay there for the present and that he wanted Mr. Morton with him as a reserve in case he was called out. Burton was put in charge of the volunteers and it was left to him to tell them where they would be most use. Then he turned to the four youngest members of the party.
"It's no picnic at night in the fire tower," he said. "Mr. Burton will show you again how to plot any incident you see. We've got rugs, and food ready for the sentries up there so off you go... Good luck to you all. To-night will see the last of this nonsense."
The moon was coming up as they went out into the night. Michael Burton, who seemed to be very tense and nervous, was friendly enough as he led them through the trees.
"The fire tower will be the last job to-night," he said. "It's the furthest away, but I'll take you kids up. I didn't know we'd got to expect four, though. It will be a job to squeeze you in, but you'll keep each other company."
David explained about the twins and what the police thought had happened and Burton was very shocked.
"We're all mad about this," David went on. "We know that Tom and Jenny will manage the tower because Peter and I want to go on the mountain and have a look round."
"That's a crazy idea," Burton said angrily. "Much too dangerous, and I can't allow it. You might run straight into the gang. The four of you must go up the tower."
But David was quietly insistent and Peter backed him up. "We shan't run into trouble, Mr. Burton. I know the Mynd and we'll act as spies for you, too. Nobody will catch us, and Mr. Morton knows we're going and he'll tell Mr. Hardwick. If you think about it you'll realize how we feel about the twins. We want to do our share of rescuing them."
Tom and Jenny backed them up but Burton was very upset about their suggestion, and each time that he returned after posting sentries at strategic points about the rides near the nurseries, he tried again to persuade David and Peter to change their minds. He was not successful and the latter said "Good-bye" at the entrance to the track which led to the watch tower.
The last pair of guards were left in this ride, Burton led Jenny and Tom along the track under the trees through the darkness. The north-western corner of the forest where the tower had been built was not only the highest, but the oldest section of the forest containing the most mature trees. As Burton unlocked the gate in the wire fence the wind was roaring through the tree tops and singing a menacing and mournful song through the steel-latticed framework of the tower. Tom's heart thumped uncomfortably and he felt the sweat on the palms of his hands as he looked up.
"I couldn't do this if you weren't here, Tom," Jenny whispered. "I shan't mind if you're behind me. You're so brave."
Tom knew only too well that this wasn't true, but she gave him confidence and David, before he had gone off with Peter, had whispered to him not to worry.
Burton was now in a great hurry and very nervy and excited.
"I s'pose you've never done this before, have you, girl?" he said to Jenny. "If those other two had come it would all have been much easier. Anyway, you've got to go through with it now, and I hope you're not going to make a fuss. Don't talk. Save your breath. Don't look down. Hold tight to each rung because it's windy, and don't use the hand-rail going up. Rest on each platform."
"Don't you worry about Jenny," Tom said stoutly. "She's not scared."
And the odd thing was that she might have been walking upstairs at home! Tom was often finding qualities in Jenny that surprised him. He was now so surprised by the way she skipped up the ladder after Burton that he forgot his own fears.
"Isn't that fun, Tom? It looks as if it's wobbling about in the wind. Does it, Mr. Burton?"
"It moves a bit, but you needn't notice it," Burton said shortly as Tom tried to repress a shudder. "Ready for the last lap?"
Tom was the last in the cabin and he hoped that Jenny couldn't see how pale he was. In the fitful moonlight he noticed that although she was breathless, she was flushed, excited and bright-eyed.
"Like being in an aeroplane, Tom. This is terrific. Look how far we can see."
Burton lifted the binoculars from their hook and passed them to Tom.
"The white strips are the snow-covered rides. When I go back you may see me cross them to check up on the sentries, but you've got to look out for a gang of men pulling trolleys - or anything else suspicious. I showed you how to work the map with the pointers. Just show Jenny so that I can be sure you know what to do, and then try the telephone."
Tom moved the wooden pointer over the map and showed Jenny how it worked and then lifted the telephone receiver. A man's voice answered at once:
"Forestry Commission, Long Mynd Headquarters."
"Fire tower testing the line, sir," Tom answered. "Two of us are up here now and Mr. Burton is just going."
"Let me speak to him, please," Mr. Hardwick said, and Tom passed over the receiver. Burton said "Yes" several times and then looked at his watch before ringing off.
"Keep yourselves warm and don't both sleep at the same time," he said. "Ring headquarters every hour and let them know you're still here. We'll relieve you as soon as we can... Good night. Don't miss anything and don't on any account try to come down by yourselves."
As soon as Tom had bolted the door behind him he sat on the box beside Jenny.
"This is a rum go, Jen. Bet you never thought yesterday that this was where you'd spend the night? Lucky your Ma doesn't realize where you are."
"Yes, it is," she agreed. "But oh, Tom. Don't you think it's romantic being up here above the world alone and together?"
He was just opening one of the flasks of hot soup and looked at her in disgust.
"Don't be soppy, Jen. There's nothing romantic about this. It's cold and it's getting darker so that we can't see much outside and whatever Burton says I'm sure that this place wobbles in the wind. I'm still wondering why we're up here because there isn't much to see, is there?"
Jenny had to agree but it was certainly exciting. Although the moon was up the rushing clouds were low and heavy and the forest lay dark and restless below them.
They sipped their soup and took it in turns to look through the glasses, but did not even see Burton going the round of his guards for it was now too dark to see the rides properly.
"There's no need to look behind us to the west," Tom explained. "There are no rides there and no nurseries of young trees to steal, and even if the gang are in there we should never see them with a searchlight. We've been here twenty minutes, Jenny, and it seems like an hour."
It may have been because Tom told her that nothing could be seen to the west that Jenny turned to look behind her where the trees rose up the hill in stiff ranks.
Then she screamed, grabbed Tom and swung him round, and they both stared as if they could not believe their eyes.
The forest was on fire.
About two hundred yards away they saw the glow of flames in the undergrowth. A sudden gust sent up a trail of sparks and then, like a beautiful scarlet flower opening, the fire spread and the trees themselves began to burn. With a gasp of fear Tom turned to the map and swung the pointer towards the flames. Then he lifted the receiver and Hardwick answered immediately.
Tom hardly recognized his own voice.
"Fire tower, sir. Tom Ingles here. There's a fire..." and he gave the bearing.
"Fire, boy? Are you sure?"
"Yes, sir. The trees are well alight and the wind is terrific. You must believe us, sir."
"Very well. Good boy. I'm going to sound the fire alarm and you'd better climb down and help fight the flames. Those trees must be saved. Tell Burton if you can find him. The old trees come first. The fire must be put out."
Tom put the receiver back and wiped his face. His knees felt weak and now they had got to climb down without Burton's help he dared not show Jenny how scared he was. He wondered what was making a curious rushing and whistling noise, and then Jenny screamed again, clutched him, buried her face in his coat and then looked up and pointed. Tom felt his scalp tingle.
Away to the south-east, only just clearing the tree tops and rushing at them through the night sky like an enormous evil bird, was a glider with dark wings. In a split second in the moonlight he saw the pilot, who looked like a woman, struggling with the hood over the cockpit. The glider was out of control and rushing straight at them. He grabbed Jenny and flung her on the floor as a monstrous shadow darkened the cabin and with a horrible grinding and ripping noise the glider struck the tower. The floor of the cabin tilted as the whole structure swayed, and then with a sickening crash the wrecked glider fell into the tree tops.
After a long pause Tom found his voice again.
"Get up, Jenny. We're still alive. Soon as I've telephoned we must climb down and help that woman."
He lifted the receiver. There was no reply. He jiggled the receiver rest. He shouted. It was no use. The line was dead and probably cut by the wrecked glider.
"What shall we do, Tom? What shall we do?" Jenny cried. "The fire is worse and the wind is blowing it this way. It might catch the glider."
Tom had already realized what might happen as the wind swept the fire towards them and was struggling with the bolt on the door. He could still see, in his mind's eye - and thought he would never forget the face of the woman pilot fighting to escape as the glider crashed to destruction.
