Pat felt as if he were one great bruise all over! Blood was streaming from a cut on his chin, where it had come into violent contact with the burglar’s boot. But his first thought was for baby and the doctor. Picking up his scooter, he did not wait for a word from the policeman, but dashed on down the hill.
Half an hour later Dr. Byrne was up at the cottage in his car, with Pat and his scooter on the seat beside him. Of course the cut on the chin had to be explained. And, when baby was fixed up, it was stitched and bandaged. The next day Dr. Byrne drove his small patient to the Police Court.
“Crash! The scooter and its small rider had hurled themselves against the burglar’s legs”
Ten pounds reward! Why, the very excitement of the adventure would have been enough reward in itself! But, all the same, it’s rather jolly to have £10 of your very own, earned by your own pluck and the help of your scooter!
The Secret Room
I
A FAMILY SECRET
Eric Stone lived in Westminster with his aunt, for he had no mother or father. He belonged to a Westminster Pack, but he spent all his holidays at his grandfather’s house—a lovely old castle in Wales. Its weather-beaten walls reached out very near to the craggy cliffs, where the sea dashed up, white and foamy. Of course Eric longed for his holidays, and one day it struck him how jolly it would be to take three of the other Cubs with him. So he got leave from his grandfather, Sir David Stone, and then he invited the boys. He did not choose the ones he liked best, but the three chaps who would be likely to have the dullest holiday, and no fun at Christmas. That is how Donald Ford, number six of the Whites, came to have the strange adventure this story is about.
. . . . . . . .
It was Christmas Eve. The four Cubs had decorated the castle with holly and mistletoe. Now they were curled up on the great bearskin rug in the hall, before a blazing log fire. The dark winter afternoon had closed in, but the lamps were not yet lighted. Everything looked very mysterious; the fire-light danced in the dark corners, gleaming on the shining suits of armour and oak-panelled walls.