Enid Blyton - Five on a Secret Trail

Mother! Mother, where are you? shouted George, rushing into the house. Mother, quick!

There was no answer. Georges mother was out in the garden at the back of Kirrin Cottage, picking flowers. George yelled again, this time at the top of her very strong voice.

MOTHER! MOTHER! Where are you? ITS URGENT!

A door was flung open nearby and Georges father stood there, glaring at her.

George! Whats this row about? Here am I in the middle of some very difficult

Oh Father! Timmys hurt! said George. He went

Her father looked down at Timmy, standing meekly behind George. He gave a little snort.

Hurt! He seems all right to me. I suppose hes got a thorn in his paw againand you think its the end of the world or something, and come yelling in here and

Timmy is hurt! said George, with tears in her voice. Look!

But her father had gone back into his study again, and the door slammed. George glared at it, looking exactly like her hot-tempered father.

Youre unkind! she shouted, and oh theres Mother. Mother!

Dear me, George, whatever is the matter? said her mother, putting down the flowers. I heard your father shouting, and then you.

MotherTimmys hurt! said George. Look!

She knelt down by the dog, and gently pulled forward one ear. Behind it was a big cut. Timmy whined. Tears came into Georges eyes, and she looked up at her mother.

Now dont be silly, George, said Mrs Kirrin. Its only a cut. How did he do it?

He tried to jump over a ditch, and he didnt see some old barbed wire there, said George. And a rusty piece caught his ear, and ripped that awful cut. I cant stop it bleeding.

Her mother looked at it. It certainly was quite deep. Take him to the vet, George, she said. Perhaps it ought to be stitched. It does look rather deep. Poor old Timmy-boywell, its a good thing it wasnt his eye, George.

Ill take him to the vet at once, said George, getting up. Will he be in, Mother?

Oh yesits his surgery hour, said her mother. Take him along now.

So Timmy was hurried along the country lanes to the pretty little house where the vet lived. George, very anxious indeed, was most relieved to see that the vet seemed quite unconcerned.

A couple of stitches and that cut will heal well, he said. Hold him, will you, while I do the job? Hell hardly feel it. There, old boystand stillthats right.

In five minutes time George was thanking the vet wholeheartedly. Thank you! I was worried! Will he be all right now?

Good gracious, yesbut you mustnt let him scratch that wound, said the vet, washing his hands. If he does, it may go wrong.

Oh. But how can I stop him? asked George anxiously. Lookhes trying to scratch it now.

Well, you must make him a big cardboard collar, said the vet. One that sticks out right round his neck, so that his paw cant get near that cut, however much he tries to reach it.

Butbut Timmy wont like that a bit, said George. Dogs look silly wearing cardboard collars like great ruffs round their neck. Ive seen them. Hell hate one.

Well, its the only way of stopping him from scratching that wound, said the vet. Get along now, GeorgeIve more patients waiting.

George went home with Timmy. He padded along quietly, pleased at the fuss that George was making of him. When he was nearly home, he suddenly sat down and put up his hind leg to scratch his bad ear.

No, Timmy! NO! cried George, in alarm. You must NOT scratch. Youll get the plaster off in no time, and break the stitches. NO, Timmy!

Timmy looked up in surprise. Very well. If scratching was suddenly upsetting George, he would wait till he was alone.

But George could read Timmys thoughts as easily as he could read hers! She frowned.

Blow! Ill have to make him that cardboard collar. Perhaps Mother will help me.

Her mother was quite willing to help. George was not good at things of that sort, and she watched her mother cutting out a big cardboard collar, fitting it round the surprised Timmys head, and then lacing the edges together with thread so that he could not get it off. Timmy was most surprised, but he stood very patiently.

As soon as the collar was finished, and safely round his neck, he walked away. Then he raised his hind leg to scratch at his smarting earbut, of course, he couldnt get it over the collar, and merely scratched the cardboard.

Never mind, Timmy, said George. It will only be for a few days.

The study door nearby opened and her father came out. He saw Timmy in his collar and stopped in surprise. Then he roared with laughter.

Hey, Timmyyou look like Queen Elizabeth the First in a fine big ruff! he said.

Dont laugh at him, Father, said George. You know that dogs cant bear being laughed at.

Timmy certainly looked offended. He turned his back on Georges father and stalked off to the kitchen. A little squeal of laughter came from there and then a loud guffaw from someone at the kitchen doorthe milkman.

Oh Timmywhatever have you got that collar on for? said the cooks voice. You do look peculiar!

George was angry. She remained angry all that day and made everyone most uncomfortable. How mean of people to jeer at poor Timmy! Didnt they realize how terribly uncomfortable a collar like that wasand Timmy had to wear it night and day! He couldnt even lie down comfortably. George mooned about looking so angry and miserable that her mother felt worried.

George deardont be silly about this. You will make your father cross. Timmy will have to wear that collar for at least a week, you knowand he does look a bit comical when you first see him. Hes getting used to it, he soon wont notice it.

Everybody laughs at him, said George, in an angry voice. He went into the garden and a lot of kids hung over the wall and laughed like anything. And the postman told me it was cruel. And Father thinks its funny. And

Oh dear, George, dont get into one of your moods, said her mother. Remember, Anne is coming soon. She wont enjoy things much if you behave like this.

George bore it for one day more. Then, after two upsets with her father over Timmy, another with a couple of boys who laughed at him, and one with the paper-boy, she decided she wouldnt stay at Kirrin Cottage for one day longer!

Well take my little tent, and go off by ourselves somewhere, she told Timmy. Some place where nobody can see you till your ear is better and that hateful collar is off. Dont you think thats a good idea, Timmy?

Woof, said Timmy. He thought that any of Georges ideas were good, though the collar puzzled him very much.

You know the dogs laugh at you too, Timmy, said George, earnestly. Did you see how that silly little poodle belonging to Mrs Janes up the lane stood and stared at you? He looked exactly as if he was laughing. I wont have you laughed at. I know you hate it.

Timmy certainly didnt like it, but he really was not as upset about the collar as George seemed to be. He followed her as she went up to her bedroom and watched her as she began to put a few things into a small bag.

Well go to that lonely little spot on the common, she said to him. Well pitch our tent near a little stream, and well jolly well stay there till your ears better. Well go tonight. Ill take my bike, and strap everything on to the back.

So, in the middle of the night, when Kirrin Cottage was dark and quiet, George stole downstairs with Timmy. She left a note on the dining-room table, and then went to get her bicycle. She strapped her little tent on it, and the bag containing food and other odds and ends.