left, R is for right. Luke starts with L, so that must be it. Well done, my boy!'
Ned snorted aloud and closed his eyes again. However, he soon opened them again when the old lady filled his
bowl with hot cocoa. She poured warm milk for Horatio.
'He's never been fond of cocoa, so I give him warm milk.'
Ned threw out a thought as he slurped cocoa noisily. 'Huh, foolish old feline!'
Mrs. Winn was far too tired to continue clue-solving. Ben took her arm and walked her through to the
downstairs room where she slept. When he returned to the kitchen, Ned was standing alert, watching the door. He
communicated a thought to his master.
'Keep quiet, mate. There's somebody outside!' The patter of receding footsteps sent Ben hurrying to the door.
He opened it in time to see the fat form of Tommo, scurrying through the gateway. A note had been fixed to the door
with a tack. After allowing Ned out to check the garden for other intruders, Ben took the note in and read it. Wilf's
hand was useless for writing, he had dictated it to Regina, but her spelling and grammar were no better than his. Ben
smiled as he perused the untidy pencil scrawl.
I carn't fight you cos my hand is dammiged, but I want to
talk too you. Be outside Evans's shop tomorrow night, ten
minnits before midnight.
W.S., Grange Gang Leader.
P.S. You better be their!
Ned trotted in from the garden, shaking his head. 'No sign of anyone out there, Ben, what's in the note?'
The boy folded the paper and shoved it in his pocket. 'Just another of Wilf's little games, tell you tomorrow.
What say we go to bed now, eh, pal?'
The Labrador wagged his tail lazily. 'Good idea. Oh no, look who's at the window!'
It was Horatio. He had followed the dog outside and Ben, not knowing, shut the door on him. The cat stood
tapping the windowpane and meowing plaintively. Ben let him in by the window, and Horatio cleared the sink in one
smooth leap. Landing lightly on the floor, he glared accusingly at Ned.
Ben chuckled. 'What's he saying?'
Ned translated the cat's thoughts. 'The usual gobbledy-gook: sardines, milk, butterflies, mice, and so on. Says
he likes being out of a night, but prefers to finish his milk inside.' The big dog drained his cocoa bowl.
'Sensible cat. Come on, Ned, bed for us. Good night, Horatio.'
Ned followed his master upstairs, chuntering to himself. 'Sensible cat, my paw! Great, foolish furball, more like
it!'
27.
EARLY-MORNING SHOPPERS WERE drifting into Chapelvale village square, and shopkeepers splashed
pails of water about, cleaning their section of walkway and entrance. A market gardener was delivering fresh
vegetables and flowers to the green-grocers; the gardener's horse clopped its metal-shod hoofs against the
cobblestones, causing sparks to fly.
Feeling slightly crestfallen, Ben arrived at the back of the almshouse only to find Alex and Amy already there
with the old seaman. Furthermore, Amy had already solved the 'Luke to the left' problem. Ben did not show his
disappointment, telling himself that it was better for the villagers to help themselves anyway. He smiled at Amy.
'Clever bit of thinking that, L for Luke and L for left. I lay for ages trying to sort it out in bed last night— my
mind was a blank. Good job you solved it, Amy.'
Jon sat down on the window ledge, stroking his beard. 'Aye, our Amy's a bright girl, but it still don't solve
much. Turn to the left yourself, Ben. What do you see?'
Ben did as Jon bid him, looking off to the left in a straight line. 'Hmm, nothing much, just the usual countryside,
trees, farmland, some fields, and the church on top of the hill.'
Amy stood alongside him. 'We're looking for the house named for the rock, though what that's supposed to be
goodness knows.'
Alex had an idea. 'Maybe there's a house or a cottage out there called Gibraltar; that's a rock. Sometimes people
name their house after a place they've visited. Or a religious person might have named their house after the Rock of
Ages, like in the hymn.'
Ben nodded. 'You could be right. Are there any places out there like that, named after a rock? Who'd know a
thing like that?'
Jon stood up. 'Mr. Braithwaite will know. Let's go and ask him.'
As they were about to pull the heavy door of the almshouse shut behind them, a voice called out. 'Now then,
young 'uns, she's runnin' fine today!'
A cheery, ruddy-faced fellow, clad in dairyman's smock and gaiters, reined up a smartly varnished gig, pulled
by a dun mare. Ben followed Amy and Alex as they ran to greet him.
'Good morning, Will.' Amy patted the mare's flank. 'Is Delia over her colic? She looks well!'
He eyed the mare fondly. 'Ole Delia's bright as a button, thanks to your dad. I don't know what was in that
medicine he gave her, but it certainly got rid of her colic. I've just finished my milk'n'eggs round, why don't you come
up to the farm for a visit? Eileen'd be pleased to see you. Hi, Jon Preston, you ole hermit. Fancy a cup o' decent tea an'
some scones up at my farm'ouse?'
Moments later they were in the gig, all sitting on empty milk churns and egg crates, as Delia jogged spiritedly
up the back lane toward the hill beyond.
Alex looked around. 'Where's Ned?'
Ben shrugged. 'Oh, that fellow, he's probably off exploring somewhere. Don't worry about the old boy, he'll
find us when he wants to. Is it far to the farm?'
Alex gestured up ahead. 'About halfway up the hill, it's called Hillside Farm. Will Drummond is our local dairy
