When Jennings and Darbishire came out onto the roof they saw not one, but more than twenty chimneys.
'Do you know which is Mr Wilkins' one?' asked Jennings.
'No, I don't,' answered Darbishire. 'But I think Mr Wilkins has already lit his fire. So his chimney must be one of those with smoke.'
'Don't be silly, Darbi. If he has lit the fire, the smoke won't come out. It will go into his room. Let's listen at the chimneys without smoke and see if we can hear any coughing.'
They listened at every chimney without smoke but could not hear any coughing. At last Jennings chose a chimney and dropped the hook down.
'It's either this one or the next,' he said, 'because Mr Wilkins' window looks... Oh, Darbi! There is something on the hook.'
'Can you take it up?'
'I don't know. I think I can.' Jennings pulled the string. 'I've got it,' he cried. 'I've got it!'
Darbishire began to dance. But he stopped when he saw that it was not the parcel, but a bird's nest.
'Wrong chimney,' said Jennings and went to another chimney.
He dropped the hook again and began to swing it.
'Wrong chimney again,' said Jennings. 'It's empty: I can swing the hook from side to side. Look, Darbi.'
'How can I see what is going on down the chimney' asked Darbishire.
Of course, Darbishire could not see it, but Mr Wilkins could. It was at that moment that Mr Wilkins saw the hook.
Jennings pulled the hook out. 'I'll look down every chimney now,' he thought. 'If there is nothing in the chimney I'll see the light from the fireplace.' He put his face to the chimney and looked down.
'What are you doing?' asked Darbishire.
'I'm looking down the chimney. I want to see the light,' , answered Jennings. But Darbishire did not hear the answer because it went straight down the chimney. It was Matron's room. She was making tea when she heard a voice in the chimney. She started and the cup of tea danced in her hands.
'I can't see anything,' Jennings said.
'I can,' said Darbishire. 'I can see Mr Wilkins. He is coming from the attic-window.'
Chapter Ten
All's well that ends well, but...
'I... I... What the...' Mr Wilkins could not say a word. He was very angry. 'What are you two silly boys doing up here on the roof? You know very well that you are not to come here.'
'Yes, sir.'
The boys stood unhappily before him.
'I'm sorry, sir,' Jennings said at last, 'but we were not sure which was your chimney, sir.'
'But you - you silly little boy, why do you want to put things down any chimney? You're not Father Christmas, are you?'
'No, sir, I am not Father Christmas, sir. We wanted to see of your chimney was blocked or not. Because if you decide to light your fire...'
'But why did you think that my chimney was blocked?'
'They sometimes are blocked, sir. And we were quite right, because we found this thing in your chimney, sir.' Jennings pointed to the bird's nest.
Mr Wilkins looked at the bird's nest. Of course, it was an unpleasant thing to have in the chimney.
'Hm... hm...' said Mr Wilkins. Maybe the little boys wanted to do something good. But school rules are school rules, and the boys mustn't break them even if they want to do something good.
'You must leave the roof at once,' said Mr Wilkins. 'And when you've washed your face, Jennings, I'll give you and your friend some work so that you'll have no time to put things down anybody's chimneys.'
The boys went back through the attic-window and hurried to the wash-room where Jennings washed his face.
'I still can't understand it, Darbi,' he said. 'If that hook went down Old Wilkie's chimney, why didn't it hit the parcel?'
'It's one of those things that nobody can explain,' said Darbishire, 'like flying saucers, for example.'
When the boys left the wash-room they met Venables who was going there to wash his hands before tea.
'Where have you been?' asked Venables. 'I couldn't find you anywhere, I've done you a great favour.'
'Thank you very much; that was very nice of you,' said Darbishire. 'What was it?'
'Well, Matron didn't let me play football this afternoon because she thought I was ill. So I decided to get that parcel of fish out of Old Wilkie's chimney.'
'What!' exclaimed Jennings. 'You mean that it was you who took it?'
'Of course it was! Didn't I tell you that it was an easy thing to do? I wanted to tell you about your parcel before, but I couldn't find you. Where have you been?'
'We've been up in the roof,' said Darbishire.
'We tried to get the parcel through the chimney from above. We didn't know it had gone. And Old Wilkie caught us up there.'
'I'm very sorry,' said Venables. 'I only wanted to help you.'
'Never mind!' said Darbishire. 'My father says all's well that ends well.'
The tuck-box room was of course for pupils to keep their tuck-boxes in. It was not very easy to use the tuck- box room for an editorial office. But Jennings and Darbishire put tuck-boxed one on top another and the desk was ready.
On Friday some envelopes arrived, but the big cakes didn't. The two friends sat down at the desk made of tuck-boxes.
'We'll have to give the prizes tomorrow before tea,' said Darbishire.
'Yes,' said Jennings. 'I can't think that is the matter with Aunt Angela. I wrote her a letter a week ago.'
'You said she was absent-minded.'
'She is. But I think this time she must remember because it is so important.'
'I think absent-minded people must do something about it.'
There was still half an hour before bedtime. So Jennings took the envelopes from his jacket pocket and passed them to his friend.
'See which are the poems and which are for the handwriting competition,' said Jennings. 'And we'll disqualify anybody who hasn't written 'Competition' in the top left-hand corner.'
'Competition, competition, competition' read Darbishire. 'Yes, they've all got it on... Oh, wait a minute; here's one that hasn't.'
'Put it in the waste-paper basket,' said Jennings. 'We can't have boys who forget simple things, or they'll grow up absent-minded like Aunt Angela.'
'But this letter is to your Aunt Angela. And what's more, it's in your handwriting.'
'What?'
'Look. Miss Angela Birkinshaw.'
Jennings opened the envelope and looked at the letter. He couldn't believe his eyes. It was his handwriting: '... please send two big cakes...'
'Oh, you silly! You forgot to post it.'
'Don't be funny. How could you post it, if it's here!'
'No, I mean I can remember I meant to post it. Well, what are we going to do now?'
'I don't think the village shop has big cakes, but if we get permission to go to town, we can get them there,'
