'Now listen, Ma - don't take on so,' said the other man patiently. 'We want to talk to Mr Gringle and Mr Brent - are they here?'

'Who? Who did you say? Oh, them! They're out with their nets,' mumbled the old woman. 'I'm all alone her, and I'm scairt of strangers. You go away.'

'Listen,' said one policeman. 'Were Mr Gringle and Mr Brent out on the hills last night?'

'I'm in my bed at nights,' she answered. 'How would I know? You go away and leave me in peace.'

The policemen looked at one another, and shook their heads. It was clearly quite useless to find out anything from this frightened old woman.

'Well, we'll go, Ma,' said one, patting her shoulder gently. 'Sorry we've scared you - there's nothing to be afraid of.'

They turned away and came back up the slope of the hill, seeing the children standing silently there: 'We heard old Mrs Janes screaming,' said Julian. 'So we came to see what was happening.'

'The b.u.t.terfly Men, as you call them, are out with their nets,' said one policeman.

'A funny life, I must say - catching insects and looking after their eggs and caterpillars. Well - I don't suppose they know anything about last night's job. Not that there's anything to know! Two pilots flew off with the planes, we know who they were - and that's that!'

'Well, one was NOT my Cousin Jeff,' said Toby, fiercely. The men shrugged their shoulders and went off together.

The five children went off up the hill again, very silent. 'I think we'd better have something to eat,' said Julian at last. 'We've had no lunch - and it's long past our usual time. Toby, stay and have some with us.'

'I couldn't eat a thing,' said Toby. 'Not a thing!' 'Get out what we've got, Anne and George,' said Julian, and the girls and Timmy went to the little 'larder'. n.o.body really felt like eating - but when the food was there, in front of them, they found that they were quite hungry - except poor Toby, who sat forlorn and pale-faced, trying to chew through a sandwich made for him by Anne, but not making a very good job of it!

Timmy began to bark in the middle of the meal, and everyone looked to see who was coming now. Julian thought he saw a movement some way down the hill, and took his field-gla.s.ses and put them to his eyes.

'I think it's Mr Gringle,' he said. 'I can see his net, too. He's out b.u.t.terflying, I suppose.'

'Let's shout to him,' said d.i.c.k. 'We can tell him why the police went to call at his cottage this morning, when he wasn't there. He'll never get any sense out of old Mrs Janes.'

Julian cooeed, and there came an answering call. 'He's coming up,' said d.i.c.k.

Timmy ran to meet him, and soon the man was just below them, panting as he made his way up the steep slope.

'I hoped I'd see you,' he said. 'I want you to look out for some special moths for me - another day-flying one like the Six-Spot Burnet you saw the other day. It's the Cinnabar Moth - it's got rich crimson underwings, and-'

'Yes - I know that one,' said Julian. 'We'll look out for it. We just wanted to tell you that two military policemen went to your cottage a little while ago to ask you some questions about last night - and as we're sure old Mrs Janes won't be able to explain anything to you, we thought we'd better tell you ourselves.'

Mr Gringle looked absolutely blank and bewildered. 'But - but why on earth should military policemen come to our cottage?' he said at last.

'For nothing much,' said Julian. 'Only to ask you if you saw anything suspicious when you were out looking at your moth-traps last night - you see, two aero-planes were - '

Mr Gringle interrupted in a most surprised voice, 'But - but, dear boy, I wasn't out at all last night! It wouldn't have been a bit of good looking for moths anywhere, on our moth-traps or anywhere else on a night like that.'

'Well,' said Julian, also surprised, 'we saw your friend Mr Brent, and he said you were both out looking at your moth-traps.' Mr Gringle stared at Julian as if he were mad, and his mouth fell open in amazement. 'Mr Brent!' he said at last. 'But Peter - that's Mr Brent - was at home with me! We were busy writing up our notes together.'

There was a silence after this surprising statement. Julian frowned. What was all this? Was Mr Gringle trying to hide the fact that he and his friend had been out on the hills the night before?

'Well - I certainly saw Mr Brent,' said Julian at last. 'It was very dark, I admit - but I'm sure I saw his b.u.t.terfly net - and his dark gla.s.ses.'

'He doesn't wear dark gla.s.ses,' said Mr Gringle, still more astonished. 'What is this tale? Is it a joke of some sort. If you can't talk better sense than this, I'm going.'

'Wait!' said d.i.c.k, something else occurring to him. 'You say that Mr Brent doesn't wear dark gla.s.ses - then who was the man that took the moth from us yesterday evening about six o'clock and gave us five s.h.i.+llings? He said he was Mr Brent, your friend!'

'This is all nonsense!' said Mr Gringle, getting up angrily. 'Wasting my time on a poor joke of this kind! Brent doesn't wear dark gla.s.ses, I tell you - and he wasn't at home at six o'clock yesterday - we'd been to buy some tackle in the next town. He was with me, not at the cottage. You couldn't possibly have seen him! What do you mean by all this nonsense - dark gla.s.ses, five s.h.i.+llings for a moth - and seeing Brent on the hillside last night when he didn't stir out of the house!'

He was now standing up, looking very fierce, his brilliant eyes flas.h.i.+ng behind his thick gla.s.ses. 'Well,' said Julian, 'All this is extremely puzzling, and ...'

'Puzzling! You're nothing but a pack of nitwitted, ill-mannered children!'

suddenly roared Mr Gringle, quite losing his temper. Tirnmy gave a warning growl, and stood up - he didn't allow anyone to rave at his friends!

Mr Gringle went off angrily, trampling down the heather as if he were trampling down the children. They heard him muttering to himself as he went off. They looked at one another in really great surprise.

'Well - I simply don't know what to make of all this!' said Julian helplessly. 'Was I dreaming last night? No - I did see that fellow - half-see him, anyway - and he did say he was Mr Brent, and that Gringle was somewhere near. But - if he wasn't Brent, who was he? And what was he doing on a stormy night, hunting moths!'

n.o.body could make even a guess. Toby spoke first. 'Perhaps the man you saw was mixed up in the stealing of those aeroplanes - you never know!'

'Impossible, Toby!' said Julian. 'That's too farfetched. I can't say that I understand it at all - but honestly, he didn't seem like a man who could steal an aeroplane!'

'Who was the man that gave us the five s.h.i.+llings then, if it wasn't Brent?' said d.i.c.k, puzzled.

'Could it have been Mrs Janes' son, pretending he was Brent - just for a silly joke?' said George.

'What was he like?' asked Toby at once. 'I know Will Janes - I told you he's often been to our farm. We don't have him now because he drinks so much and he isn't reliable any more. What was this man Brent like - I'd soon know if he was Will Janes pretending to be someone else!'

'He was small and thin, with dark gla.s.ses,' began d.i.c.k - and Toby interrupted him at once.

'Then it wasn't Will Janes! He's tall and burly - with a thick neck and, anyway, he doesn't wear dark gla.s.ses - or any gla.s.ses at all!'

'Then who in the world was it? And WHY did he pretend to be Brent, Gringle's friend?' wondered d.i.c.k. Everyone frowned and puzzled over the whole thing - but n.o.body could think of a sensible reason for anyone wanting to pretend to be Mr Brent!

'Well - for goodness' sake, let's get on with our meal,' said George at last. 'We stopped in the middle of it - and the rest is still waiting for us. Have another ham sandwich, Julian?'

They all munched in silence, thinking hard. Toby sighed. 'I don't really feel that this mix-up with the b.u.t.terfly Men and somebody else, whoever he is, has anything to do with the stealing of the aeroplanes. I wish it had!'

'All the same - it wants looking into,' said d.i.c.k seriously. 'And what's more - I vote we keep our eyes and ears open. Something's going on at b.u.t.terfly Farm!'

Chapter Fifteen

MORE NEWS - AND A NIGHT TRIP

The Five spent most of the afternoon talking about the mystery of the man who had pretended to be Mr Brent. It really was difficult to understand why anyone should do such a foolish thing, especially as it could be so easily found out.

'I can only think there's a madman about who has got it into his head that he is Mr Brent!' said d.i.c.k at last. 'No wonder he didn't seem to recognize that b.u.t.terfly we took him!'

'Do you know what I think would be a good idea?' suddenly said George. 'Why don't we slip down to b.u.t.terfly Farm tonight, when it's getting dark, and see if the false Mr Brent is there, and the real one - whom we've never seen, by the way, and Mr Gringle?'

'Hm - yes - quite an idea,' said Julian, seriously. 'But only d.i.c.k and I will go - not you or Anne.'

'I'll come, too,' said Toby.

'Right,' said Julian. 'But we'll have to be jolly careful - because if there is something funny going on down there, we don't want to be caught. It wouldn't be at all pleasant, I fear!'

'Take Timmy with you,' said George at once.

'No. He might bark or something,' said d.i.c.k. 'We'll be all right, George. Gracious - we've had enough adventures by now to teach us how to go about things like this! Ha - I shall look forward to tonight!'

Everyone suddenly felt much more cheerful, even Toby. He managed a very small smile, and stood up to brush the crumbs off his jersey.

'I'm going now,' he said. 'I've a lot of farm jobs to do this afternoon - I'll meet you at the big oak-tree behind the b.u.t.terfly Farm - did you notice it?'

'Yes - an enormous one,' said Julian. 'Right. Be there at - say - ten o'clock. No, eleven - it will be dark by then, or almost.'

'So long!' said Toby and plunged down the hill, accompanied for a little way by Timmy. 'Well - I feel much better now we've made a definite plan,' said d.i.c.k. 'My goodness, it's half past five already! Don't suggest tea, George - we had our lunch so late!'

'I wasn't going to,' said George. 'We'll miss it out and have a really good supper later on. And don't let's forget to listen to the news at six o'clock - there might be some about Jeff and his friend Ray - and the aeroplanes.'

So, just before six o'clock, they switched on the little radio set, and listened intently for the news. It came at last - and almost the first piece was about the stolen aeroplanes. The children listened, holding their breath, bending close to the set.

'The two aeroplanes stolen from Billyc.o.c.k Airfield last night, flown away by Flight-Lieutenant Jeffrey Thomas and Flight-Lieutenant Ray Wells, have been found. Both planes apparently crashed into the sea, but were seen, and there is a chance of their being salvaged. The pilots were not found, and are presumed to have been drowned. At Edinburgh this afternoon there was a grand rally of...'

Julian switched off the news and looked at the others soberly. 'Well - that's that!

Crashed, both of them! That was because of the storm, I suppose. Well, at least no enemy will be able to get hold of the new devices that were incorporated in the planes.'

'But - that means Toby's cousin is drowned - or killed,' said Anne, her face very white.

'Yes. But remember, if he flew away in that plane, he was a traitor to his country,'

said d.i.c.k gravely. 'And traitors deserve to die.'

'But Toby's cousin didn't seem like a traitor,' said George. 'He seemed so - well, so very British, and I can't say anything finer than that. I feel as if I shall never trust my judgment of anyone again. I liked him so very much.'

'So did I,' said d.i.c.k, frowning. 'Well, these things happen - but I just wish it hadn't been Toby's cousin. He was such a hero to him. I don't feel as if Toby will ever be quite the same after this - it's something so absolutely beastly!'

n.o.body said anything for a little while. They were all profoundly shocked - not only by the idea of Cousin Jeff being a traitor, but also by the news that he had been drowned. It seemed such a horrible end to come to that bright-eyed, smiling your airman they had joked with only the other day - and yet it was an end that a traitor deserved - and that the other man deserved, too. 'Do you think we ought to pack up and go home?' said Anne. 'I mean - won't it be awkward for the Thomas's to have us hanging round when they must feel shocked and unhappy?'

'No, we don't need to bother them much at the farm,' said Julian. 'And I don't think we can desert old Toby at the moment. It will help him to have friends around, you know.'

'Yes. You're right,' said d.i.c.k. 'This is the sort of time to have good friends - poor old Toby. He'll be knocked out by this last piece of news.'

'Will he be waiting for you at the old oak-tree tonight, do you think?' asked George.

'Don't know,' said Julian. 'It doesn't rnatter if he's not there, anyway - d.i.c.k and I can do all the snooping round that is necessary. And it will take our minds off this shock a bit - to try and solve the mystery down at b.u.t.terfly Farm!'

They went for a walk round the hill, with Timmy leaping over the heather in delight, He couldn't understand the lack of laughter and the unusual solemnity shown by his four friends, and he was pleased to be able to forget any troubles and sniff for rabbits.

They had their suppers at eight o'clock and then turned on the radio to listen to a programme. 'We'll hear the news at nine,' said d.i.c.k. 'Just in case there might be any more.'

But the nine o'clock news only repeated what had been said about the two planes in the six o'clock broadcast, and not a word more. d.i.c.k switched off and gazed down at the airfield below.

There were still quite a lot of planes there, though some of them had taken off and flown away during the day. Julian trained his field-gla.s.ses on the field.

'Not so many men scurrying about now.' he said. 'Things are quietening down.

My word - what a shock it must have been for everyone there last night, to hear the planes revved up, and then flown away! They must have been amazed!'

'Maybe they didn't hear them go, in the storm,' said George.

'They must have,' said d.i.c.k. 'We heard them up here. Well, what about you girls turning-in? d.i.c.k and I don't want to, in case we fall off to sleep - we've got to slip away about half past ten or we shan't be down at the oak-tree at eleven.' 'I wish you'd take Timmy with you,' said George uneasily. 'I don't like b.u.t.terfly Farm - or the witch-like old woman there - or the man you met with dark gla.s.ses who wasn't Mr Brent, or the son you haven't seen.'

'Don't be an a.s.s, George,' said Julian. 'We shall be back by twelve, I expect - and Timmy is sure to bark in welcome, so you'll know we're safe.'

The girls wouldn't go to their tent to sleep, so they all sat and talked, and watched the sun slip behind the clear horizon. The weather was now perfect again, and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. It was difficult to imagine the sweeping rain and howling wind of last night's storm.

'Well,' said Julian at last, looking at his watch. 'Time we went. Timmy, look after the girls as usual.'

'Woof,' said Timmy, understanding perfectly.

'And you look after yourselves,' said Anne. 'We'll come down a little way with you - it's such a lovely evening.'

They all set off together, and the girls went halfway to the b.u.t.terfly Farm and then turned back with Timmy. 'Well, Tim - mind you bark at twelve, when they come back,' said Anne. 'Though somehow I think that both George and I will still be awake!'

The two boys went on down the hill and round to the right across towards b.u.t.terfly Farm. It was almost dark now, though the June night was very clear and bright.

'Better be careful we're not seen,' muttered Julian. 'It's such a clear night.'

They made their way to the big old oak-tree that stood at the back of the b.u.t.terfly Farm. Toby was not there - but in about two minutes they heard a slight rustling noise, and saw Toby, panting a little, as if he had been hurrying. Then he was close beside them.

'Sorry I'm a bit late,' he whispered. 'I say - did you hear the six o'clock news?'

'Yes - we were awfully sorry about it,' said Julian.

'Well - as I still don't believe that Cousin Jeff stole the aeroplanes with Ray Wells, but that somebody else did, I wasn't any more upset than before,' said Toby. 'If Jeff didn't steal the plane, he wasn't in it when it crashed, so he's not drowned.

See?'