five go to phantom creek by trevor j bolton

7/28/2019 Five Go to Phantom Creek by Trevor J Bolton

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Five Go to Phantom CreekBy Trevor J Bolton

CHAPTER 1: AN EXCITING SUGGESTION

"Whatever can have kept them, Timmy?" asked George, an impatient freckle-faced girl with very short,

curly hair and bright blue eyes. She stood in the middle of the lane outside Kirrin Cottage, gazing

towards the village, expecting to see her three cousins on their bicycles. "They should have been here

twenty minutes ago."

George's real name was Georgina but, because she always wanted to be a boy, dressed like one andtried to act like one, she would only answer to the name George. Even the teachers and pupils at her

school referred to her as George.

Timmy, the brown mongrel dog she had had ever since finding him as a puppy lost on the moors,

wagged his rather long tail and actually seemed to grin as he gazed up at his beloved mistress. Then,

spotting somebody riding a bicycle from Kirrin village, he gave a couple of short barks.

"No, that's not them, silly. It's the postman," said George, uttering a sigh of exasperation. "Come on,

let's return to the garden."

With Timmy at her side, she strolled back to the old white-stoned cottage with its walls attractively

covered in ivy and sweet smelling climbing roses but, just as she was entering the garden, there was aloud ringing of bicycle bells and three very excited children rode up the short drive shouting at the tops

of their voices.

"Well, why are you so late?" demanded George, frowning at them. "Timmy and I have been waiting ages

for you."

"Hello, George. We've been on the phone, that's why," replied Julian, getting off his bike. The oldest of

the four children, he was a tall boy with determined eyes and a strong chin, and very much respected by

the rather stubborn George.

"And we've got some smashing news," added his younger brother Dick, about the same age as George

and who had a great sense of humour.

"Guess what! We've all been invited to stay in a large, old house that once belonged to real smugglers!"

cried Anne, the youngest.

Forgetting her annoyance, George immediately became intrigued and started asking questions which all

three cousins tried to answer at the same time, their voices rising. Sensing the air of excitement, Timmy

joined in by barking loudly and charging madly around.


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Suddenly, a nearby window was flung open and a man's scowling face appeared.

"What is the meaning of this dreadful din?" he asked in a deep, authoritative voice. "How dare you ring

bells and yell at the tops of your voices outside my study while I'm doing important work? And George, if

you don't stop that dog of yours barking, he will have to live in his kennel."

"Sorry, Uncle Quentin," apologised Dick, while George tried to quieten Timmy down. "We've got somesmashing news to tell George and we're terribly excited."

"Well be terribly excited somewhere else, such as down on the beach or, better still, on Kirrin Island!"

snapped Uncle Quentin. "I was in the middle of solving an important equation and, because you've

disturbed me, I've got to start all over again!"

"That's not really our fault, Father," protested George, scowling just like her father. "Be fair. It's yours.

You disturbed yourself by getting up, opening the window and yelling at us. If you'd simply ignored..."

"That's quite enough, George," declared Uncle Quentin fiercely. He glanced sideways as he became

aware of somebody approaching from the garden and clicked his tongue. "More disturbance. Oh, it's

you, Fanny. Do take these rowdy children away from here. I'm conducting an important experiment and

they keep on disturbing me. I simply cannot concentrate with all their noise, not to mention that dog

barking."

"They don't keep on disturbing you, dear, so don't exaggerate," replied his wife gently but firmly. "After

all, Julian, Dick and Anne have only just arrived. Come into the cottage, children, and you return to your

work, Quentin."

Muttering about noisy children and barking dogs, Uncle Quentin slammed the window shut so violently

it was a wonder it didn't break. Quentin Kirrin was a brilliant and highly respected scientist who

intensely disliked school holidays as he needed peace and quiet for his important work. Knowing how

impatient he could be when disturbed, the children normally kept out of his way. It was just unfortunatethat, on this occasion, they met outside the study window.

"Now wait till we're inside the cottage before you tell George whatever it is that's so important," said

Aunt Fanny, sensing the children were about to discuss things again. "I could hear you from way down

the garden so no wonder your uncle was disturbed. It must be very exciting."

"It is, Aunt Fanny," nodded Anne as they entered the large kitchen of Kirrin Cottage where Joanna, the

cheerful cook, was making sandwiches. "Very!"

"Just you keep your hands off those buns I've made," said Joanna, a twinkle in her eye. "Especially you,

Master Dick. I know what you're like."

"They really smell fabulous," declared Dick eyeing the buns longingly. "Can't we try one each to make

certain they're all right? Please, Joanna! Just one."

"Oh, go on then," replied Joanna smiling. "But just one each, mind."

"Come into the sitting room and you, Julian, tell George and me what all the excitement's about," said

Aunt Fanny leading the way. "You all look hot and bothered. I expect you've been pedalling furiously all


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the way here, so I'll pour you some ginger beer to go with the buns. And don't raise your voices as your

uncle's study is just down the hall as you know only too well."

"It's like this," began Julian as soon as his aunt brought in the glasses of ginger beer on a tray. "Buster

Bristow, one of the boys in Dick's year at school, has invited us to stay with him at Rawlins Haven

that's the name of the old house his family own at Phantom Creek as his parents have to go away for a

few days. Is Phantom Creek far, Aunt Fanny?"

"Some distance," replied Aunt Fanny, thinking. "Beyond Lobster Cove where you sometimes go

swimming. In fact, it's way beyond Port Limmersley and is, I believe, quite difficult to reach by road

because of the estuary. That's why we haven't been there for ages."

"The exciting thing is that the house used to belong to smugglers in fact the whole area is associated

with smugglers," continued Julian. "There used to be secret tunnels in the cliff and there's supposed to

be one actually leading to Rawlins Haven itself, although Buster has never found it."

"Buster has a boat which he has promised to take us around the creek in," said Dick, his eyes ablaze. "Do

say George can come with us, Aunt Fanny. She'd like old Buster. He's full of fun. He's forever playing

tricks at school."

"What with you, that Sooty Lenoir, Toby Something-or-other, and now this boy Buster all playing tricks, I

wonder you get any work done at school, Dick," said Aunt Fanny, shaking her head. "Tell me. Is this

simply an invitation from Buster, or from his parents? It seems rather strange for the boy to invite four

children, two of whom he and his family have never met, while his parents are away."

"Yes, put like that it does sound surprising," agreed Julian. "Anyway, on the phone Buster said that, if it

seems our parents and you and Uncle Quentin, of course have no objection, his mother would phone

and explain everything. Mother had no immediate objection as she's met the Bristows at school, and we

felt sure you wouldn't mind Mrs Bristow phoning you."

"It sounds great. I'd love to join you, but what about Timmy?" asked George anxiously. "If he can't go, I

shan't, of course."

"I knew you'd say that so I mentioned Timmy," said Dick, with a broad grin on his face. "Buster said he'd

be delighted to have a dog around although he'll have to ask his parents, of course."

"What do you say, Aunt Fanny?" asked Anne. "Mother says that she's happy for us to be away for a few

days during the long holiday but naturally needs more information from Mrs Bristow."

"It certainly depends on what Mrs Bristow has to say," said Aunt Fanny, still looking dubious. "I'll go

along with any decision your mother makes. When will Mrs Bristow phone?"

"This very afternoon," replied Julian. "She wanted to make certain we would like to stay at Rawlins

Haven before phoning."

"I'll say no more about your plans and make no promises until Mrs Bristow phones," decided Aunt

Fanny. "Now, hadn't you planned to have a picnic on the moor? As you've seen, Joanna is busy

preparing a picnic lunch so you can stay out for the day. That will keep you out of Uncle Quentin's way,

especially while you're so excited."


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Soon the Five, for Timmy always counted as one of them, set off towards the village, then down Carters

Lane which led to Kirrin Common. There, they cycled slowly along the bumpy track, Timmy trotting

beside them hoping to spot a rabbit or two to chase. Needless to say, the conversation was mainly

about Rawlins Haven and Phantom Creek.

"Buster makes it sound so exciting," said Dick. "I do hope we will be able to join him. He's such good fun

and he often talks about the creek. I hope Mrs Bristow phones."

"To be honest, I'm still intrigued about it all, like Aunt Fanny is," admitted Julian. "Why suddenly invite

four children and a dog when you're going away for a few days?"

"We'll hopefully find out when we return home," said George. "Now, see that hill ahead? I vote we have

our picnic on the very top so we'll be able to see for miles around."

It was hard going cycling along a track that twisted and turned all the time as it went up the hill but,

eventually, they reached the top and what a view they had!

"Look down there," cried Anne, suddenly. "There's that old ruined cottage where we sheltered from a

storm and ended up having one of our adventures."

"When we met a boy who seemed to have a split personality," reminded Julian, thinking back.

"Sometimes he was cheerful, other times he was downright rude."

"That's because we hadn't realised we were dealing with two boys," added Dick with a laugh. "Identical

twins! Harry and what was the other one called?"

"Guy," replied George. "He had a funny little dog called Jet and was interested in archaeology. I can just

make out the old Roman camp on the common way down there where he was digging."

"Isn't that Kirrin Farm where we had another adventure?" asked Anne, pointing in the other direction

towards a small farm on a hill.

"That's right," said George nodding. "Those sheep on the hillside belong to Mr and Mrs Sanders. I say,

didn't we have fun going down the Secret Way behind the wardrobe's false back?"

"We certainly did," agreed Dick. "Now, may I make a suggestion? Let's start our picnic. My tummy's

telling me it's time to eat."

"Your tummy's always telling you it's time to eat," giggled Anne. "But I must admit. I'm feeling quite

peckish myself."

In no time the four children were tucking into Joanna's delicious ham sandwiches, pork pies, hard boiled

eggs and firm tomatoes, with juicy plums as dessert. Timmy had his biscuits but kept sniffing around to

see if anyone had dropped anything while they chatted non-stop.

"You naughty dog, you've just eaten a piece of my pie!" scolded Dick, shooing Timmy away. "Now I'll

have to have another one."

"You've had two already!" said Julian. "Dick, you really are a pig at times."


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The children thoroughly enjoyed their picnic on the hill with its panoramic views. In the distance they

could make out the sea, sparkling in the August sunshine, although Kirrin Island was hidden from view

by another hill.

After the meal, they relaxed before returning along a track which took them to the ruined cottage

almost hidden by rambling roses clinging to the walls. They also had a look at the old Roman camp, half

expecting to see Guy or Harry suddenly appear. But they didn't, of course.

Eventually it was time to return to Kirrin Cottage. One thing, and one thing only, was uppermost in their

minds as they pedalled along. Had Mrs Bristow phoned? And had it been arranged that they would

spend a few days with Buster at Phantom Creek?

CHAPTER 2: ROLL ON, TOMORROW!

"For goodness' sake, don't make a noise cycling up the drive!" warned Julian as Kirrin Cottage came intoview. "It would be most unwise to upset your father again, George."

Thus four remarkably quiet children pedalled up the drive accompanied by one tired dog, his tongue

hanging loosely out of his mouth. Aunt Fanny, working in the garden, was surprised to find them

suddenly close by.

"Oh, goodness me, how you startled me!" she exclaimed, standing up. "I've never known you to be so

quiet. Is everything all right?"

"Yes, of course it is, Mother," said George getting off her bike. "We didn't want to disturb Father. Now

don't keep us in suspense. Has Mrs Bristow phoned?"

"Yes, and we had a very pleasant and interesting chat," replied Aunt Fanny, removing her gardening

gloves and sitting on a bench, while the impatient children stood their bikes against the side of the shed.

"It seems that Mr Bristow has been called away at short notice to an important meeting about some

buildings he is designing he's an architect, apparently and Mrs Bristow would like to go with him as

her sister hasn't been well recently and lives near to where the meeting is taking place."

"But what about us going to Rawlins Haven with Buster?" interrupted Dick, beginning to look

disappointed. "Did she mention anything about it? Buster didn't make it up, did he?"

"I was coming to that," said Aunt Fanny with a laugh. "Knowing how bored their son would be with Mrs

Bristow's sister she has no children the Bristows suggested to Buster that he might like a couple of

school friends to stay with him. They were pleased he chose you two, Julian and Dick, as they have metyou and your parents. However, Mrs Bristow was quite unaware about Anne and George going as well,

let alone Timothy. Buster somehow forgot to mention them."

"Does that mean we're not invited?" asked George, anxiously. "And what about Timmy? If he can't go, I

shan't!"

"Do calm down, George, as you're all invited," replied Aunt Fanny. "Mrs Bristow seems to be a very

jovial lady and had a good laugh over you and Anne going along as well. Indeed, she actually seemed


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relieved to know that there'd be a big dog with you at night. But she did stress that she wants you to

promise to help Mrs Pickle who'll be keeping an eye on you during the day."

"Mrs Pickle, what a delightful name!" exclaimed Julian, grinning broadly. "Yes, of course we'll help dear

old Mrs Pickle in any way we can. Buster never mentioned her."

"She lives in Phantom Creek and helps out as housekeeper whenever she's needed," explained AuntFanny. "Quite often there are meetings in some of the larger houses. She'll see to the cooking and

downstairs cleaning, but you must be responsible for your bedrooms."

Then, before she could say anymore, who should appear in the doorway but Uncle Quentin, a very

different Uncle Quentin from the angry man they had seen that morning. He came out into the garden

and sat next to his wife looking remarkably relaxed and very pleased with himself.

"Thank goodness, I've sorted out that complicated equation," he said, heaving a sigh of relief. "It really

was most baffling. Most baffling, indeed. Tell me, is it long till lunch, Fanny? I'm feeling quite hungry."

"Oh Quentin, I took your lunch into the study hours ago!" said an exasperated Aunt Fanny, much to the

children's amusement. They had experienced this scene so many times. "You muttered something about

putting it on the table and you would eat it in a few moments. You're unbelievably absent minded when

you're working worse than any child!"

"We had a lovely picnic up on the moor, Uncle Quentin," said Anne, pleased to see her uncle smiling

again. "And listen. Has Aunt Fanny told you that George and I have been invited to stay with a school

friend of my brothers?"

"Really? No. What's his name?" asked Uncle Quentin looking surprised.

"Buster," replied George.

"Buster!" exclaimed Uncle Quentin. "I meant the boy's name, not his dog's. And what's he like the boy,that is?"

"That is the boy's name, Uncle," said Dick. "He's in my year at school and tremendous fun to be with. Let

me tell you some of the tricks he played last term."

"I think I'd rather not hear about them," said Uncle Quentin firmly. "Buster. That's a strange name.

Where does he live?"

"At Phantom Creek," answered Julian. "Do you know Phantom Creek, Uncle Quentin?"

"Not very well but I have been there," replied his uncle. "It's awkward to reach by road from here as the

village is on the far side of the creek, a large inlet on the River Luddle. You have to go a long way inland

to reach it as there's only the one bridge across the river. Then you have to drive around the creek itself.

Dr Raynor lives there, Fanny."

"Whoever's Dr Raynor, dear?" asked Aunt Fanny. "He's not our doctor."

"Dr Raynor is not a medical practitioner," said Uncle Quentin, impatiently clicking his tongue. Fancy his

wife not knowing Dr Raynor! "She, not he, is an eminent physicist with a doctorate in scientific studies.

We often have a chat at meetings although I haven't seen her for some time. I believe she's chairing a


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conference of physicists this very week. You know, it would be rather agreeable to have another talk

with her so I suppose I could come with you to Phantom Creek."

The children looked at each other in horror. Much as they liked and respected George's father, he was

not the ideal person to have around when four no, it would be five children and a dog were enjoying

themselves.

"Quentin, this break is strictly for the children," said Aunt Fanny firmly, and explained what was planned

to her husband. He listened intently and, at first, was concerned that a daily housekeeper would be the

only grown-up looking after the children, especially if the other boy liked playing tricks. Uncle Quentin

had little time for boys who indulged in playing tricks.

"I hope she's a firm and responsible lady who can keep the children under control," he said. "Yes,

George may go as I know I can rely on you, Julian, to be in charge when Mrs... what's her name?"

"Pickle!" yelled all four children rather loudly, causing Timmy to bark.

"No need to bellow!" said Uncle Quentin, pulling a face. "As I was saying, I know I can rely on you, Julian,

to be in charge when this Mrs Pickle is that really her name? is not with you."

"I will, Uncle," promised Julian, pleased his uncle had such faith in him.

"And no more of your ghastly adventures this time," added Uncle Quentin. "Let this be a straightforward

holiday."

"How can you possibly say that, Father?" asked George, scornfully. "We always have an adventure

wherever we go. We're bound to have one at Phantom Creek."

"I can't imagine anything exciting happening at Phantom Creek," said Aunt Fanny with a smile. "Now,

I've arranged with Jim that, after lunch tomorrow, a car will come for you, George, first of all, then

Julian, Dick and Anne will be collected. Luckily you won't need to pack much for just a few days."

"Does Mummy know about these arrangements?" asked Anne.

"Of course she does!" replied Aunt Fanny. "Mrs Bristow naturally spoke to your mother first as she

knows her. Now, your mother said you can stay to tea this afternoon as Joanna has it prepared but must

return home soon afterwards."

"Tea? Don't you mean lunch, dear?" asked Uncle Quentin, looking at his wife in surprise.

"No, Quentin. Tea!" said Aunt Fanny, shaking her head in despair. "Really! We've had lunch."

Over tea, the conversation was naturally mainly about Phantom Creek which Uncle Quentin actually

seemed to know quite well.

"It's a little village way around the creek as I've explained," he said. "Luddle Creek, as it was originally

called, used to be much larger and quite important but the creek gradually silted up so badly that large

ships could no longer enter what once was a harbour. That's when the smugglers took over with their

smaller boats, or so my grandfather used to tell me. He even used to relate tales of a phantom ship

belonging to some smuggler or other being seen in the creek on stormy nights, thus the name changed

to Phantom Creek."


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"So that's why it's got such an odd name!" said Julian. "I wonder if we'll see the phantom ship."

"Good gracious me, no!" declared Uncle Quentin in amazement. "The story of the phantom ship was just

a legend, nothing more. Phantom ship, indeed!"

"Are there many houses in the village, Father?" asked George. "The one we're staying in is Rawlins

Haven. Perhaps you know it?"

"No, I don't know it although I must have seen it," replied her father. "There aren't that many houses

probably as many as are in Kirrin. Fishermen's cottages straddle the creek close to the main street and,

beyond, are some quite large and very old houses. There's Estuary View where Dr Raynor lives and I

recall a large, rambling hotel, part of which is actually built into the rocky cliff. Phantom Creek, once a

hive of activity, is a fairly quiet place now."

"So how do the people earn their living in a place like that?" enquired Dick.

"Fishermen still live and work there," said Uncle Quentin, helping himself to a very buttery scone. "And I

believe there are artists and writers plus, of course, people like Dr Raynor who give lectures. It's an ideal

place to prepare lectures and theses. No disturbances."

"It seems to be the sort of place where you'd like to live, Uncle," remarked Anne. "Nice and quiet."

"Until you four and that boy what's his name?" said Uncle Quentin wiping butter which annoyingly

persisted in dripping down his chin.

"Buster!" everyone yelled.

"I do wish you wouldn't shout," scolded Uncle Quentin frowning. "That's the second time! I was just

remarking before you interrupted that it won't be so quiet for the next few days. But I'm perfectly happy

here at Kirrin, Anne. At least we have a railway station so I can easily travel when I need to. Phantom

Creek has no station anywhere near it as it's right off the beaten track. To be honest, you'll probably findit too quiet for your liking."

"Too quiet! A former haven for smugglers, a rambling old house with a secret passage, tunnels through

the cliff and a phantom ship!" exclaimed George. "I'm looking forward to it more than ever."

"So are we all," nodded Dick, while Timmy barked in agreement much to Uncle Quentin's annoyance.

"I can't say I shall be sorry not to have that noisy dog around for a few days," he said. "When did you say

you're going?"

"Tomorrow!" everyone shouted, causing Uncle Quentin to wince once again.

"Then roll on, tomorrow!" he muttered.

At once four excited children nodded in agreement. "Yes, roll on, tomorrow!"


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CHAPTER 3: RAWLINS HAVEN, BUSTER, AND MRS PICKLE!

After lunch the following day, George waited by the front door for the car which was to take the Five to

Phantom Creek. Right on time it purred up the lane and entered the drive of Kirrin Cottage.

"I see you're packed and ready, Master George," said the driver getting out. Like many of the local

people, he referred to George as Master George, knowing full well she was a girl. "Ah, here's yourmother. Good afternoon, Mrs Kirrin. You're going to have peace and quiet for a few days although I

expect Mr Kirrin will appreciate it more than you."

"He certainly will, Ted!" nodded George's mother with a smile. "He needs to concentrate so much right

now that the slightest noise irritates him, and you can't expect the children to creep around indoors like

mice. I find it difficult to move quietly and poor Joanna's terrified of dropping a plate on the kitchen

floor."

"Ah, but what it is to have brains!" sighed Ted, the driver, wistfully. "I think mine are in my feet! Now, I

gather I collect the other youngsters then drive the four to Phantom Creek."

"Five," corrected George at once.

"I thought there were just four," said Ted looking mystified. "Who's the fifth?"

"Why, Timmy of course!" replied George, while Tim barked in agreement. "He always counts as one of

us. We're the Famous Five, don't forget."

"Of course. Fancy me forgetting!" exclaimed the relieved driver. "Now let's put this bag of yours in the

boot."

"Well, enjoy yourself, George," said Mrs Kirrin. "Remember to help Mrs Pickle and phone me if there are

any problems."

"Yes, Mother, so you keep telling me," laughed George, giving her mother a kiss. "I said goodbye to

Father earlier so I won't disturb him."

"No, don't, and in any case, he probably won't even notice you've gone," laughed Mrs Kirrin as George

and Timmy climbed into the back of the big car. "And don't forget to..."

But the car was now reversing onto the lane and off it went to collect Julian, Dick and Anne. Soon the

Five were together again, chatting excitedly about Phantom Creek and Rawlins Haven, not to mention

Buster whom the girls hadn't met.

"Few people visit Phantom Creek nowadays," remarked Ted, joining in the conversation. "Pity, it's a nice

old place."

"Do you know Rawlins Haven where we're staying?" asked Dick, eager to learn more about the old

house.

"Ay, I've heard many a tale about that there house," replied Ted, carefully steering the car around some

tricky bends. "The original cottage Harbour Cottage was its name in them days belonged to Jacob

Rawlins, thus the name Rawlins Haven. Smuggler Jake they called him as he was in charge of the


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Phantom Creek smugglers unofficially, of course. Customs and Excise could never catch him. Why, he

once smuggled bottles of best French brandy into his cottage under their very noses!"

"However did he manage that?" asked Julian, sitting next to the driver. "George, do keep Timmy still. He

keeps licking my ear."

"Some folks says that Smuggler Jake had a hold on some of them Customs and Excise officers,"answered Ted, enjoying the conversation. "Mind you, there was never any need to carry the goods into

Harbour Cottage as Luddle Creek used to be riddled with tunnels which Smuggler Jake knew like the

back of his hand. They do say as how he made the cottage bigger by building a new part just to link up

with them tunnels. It's certainly a rambling house as you'll be a-seeing."

"Phantom Creek sounds very exciting," said Anne. "Do the tunnels still exist?"

"It was exciting but it's fairly quiet now," replied Ted. "As for them tunnels, I believe they were blocked

up years ago as people got lost in them. Nobody knew them like old Jacob. There are folks who says his

phantom ship can be seen in the creek on stormy nights, thus the name somehow changed from Luddle

Creek to Phantom Creek."

"That's what Uncle Quentin told us," said Julian recalling his uncle's words. Then, with a laugh, he added,

"We must watch out for this ship."

They were continuing to chat excitedly when the car suddenly bumpily crossed a humpback bridge over

a narrow river.

"Ooh, my tummy seemed to leave my body just then!" cried Anne, patting her stomach. "Just like on a

scenic railway."

"Believe it or not, that was the River Luddle that widens out at Phantom Creek just before entering the

sea," explained the driver. "We've had to drive all this way inland as there's no other bridge crossing the

river lower down and the creek is a large inlet on the far side. Now we've got to drive back towards the

coast."

They drove along twisting lanes and around sharp bends until the river once again came into view. But

what a difference! It was much, much wider, the opposite side having a muddy looking bank stretching

towards the distant sea. On the hillside were farms where sheep and cattle were leisurely grazing in

grassy fields.

A few small boats were out on the river while, ahead, was a large inlet with a cluster of buildings on the

far side. Scattered haphazardly along the bank were several cottages, some clearly derelict.

"These ere cottages once belonged to fishermen," Ted pointed out. "Indeed, many still do. There's the

boat builder ahead. See? They seem to be repairing a tall sailing ship. Looks interesting, doesn't it?

We're now coming to Phantom Creek. Rawlins Haven and other big houses are on the far side of the

village, close to where the Luddle enters the sea."

The car slowed down as it approached the village. Cottages of all shapes and sizes huddled together,

reached by narrow alleys disappearing in all directions. Many of the roofs were so crooked they looked

as though they were about to collapse. On either side of the main street were shops, many with

customers clearly enjoying a chat as well as making purchases.


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"Oh just look at that man!" exclaimed George, staring out of the window. "He seems to belong to a

bygone age."

Striding along the village street, nodding condescendingly to various people, was a man dressed entirely

in black. What made him look so odd was the cloak he was wearing which rose up as he walked quickly

along, stick in hand.

"Clearly a descendant of the smugglers," giggled Dick. "We'll have to look out for him."

Just beyond the village was a narrow pier stretching over the muddy river bank. Large old houses now

came into view, some on the bank, some inland on a low hill. After passing a few of these dwellings, Ted

drove down a lane on the right and pulled up outside the last house just beyond the old hotel Uncle

Quentin had mentioned.

Almost immediately, the sturdy oak front door was flung open and a cheeky looking fair-haired boy,

about the same age as Dick, dashed outside. He was immediately followed by a plump, round-faced lady

holding a jar containing what appeared to be a crab, of all things. Both stopped on noticing the car.

"Hello, hello!" cried the boy, banging on the car's windows. "Welcome to Rawlins Haven! Quick, get out

and save me from Mrs Pickle!"

Four surprised children climbed out of the car while Timmy bounded around, wondering what was going

on.

"It's a good thing you've arrived as I was going to put this crab down Buster's shirt," said Mrs Pickle, a

broad beam spread across her pleasant looking face. "Left the jar on its side on the kitchen table, he did,

hoping the crab would scare me. Well it didn't! Now, tell me. Who's who?"

There were slaps on the back as the girls were introduced to the grinning Buster and immediately liked

him.

"Buster Bristow!" said Mrs Pickle fiercely, holding the jar with the crab perilously close to the boy.

"Perhaps you would introduce me to your friends since I'm supposed to be looking after you all!"

"Gosh, sorry," apologised Buster, grinning. "This is Mrs Pickle, everyone. She's a real sport and a

smashing cook. And Mrs Pickle, these are my friends from school. At least, two of them are. The other

two are not my friends yet but they're going to be my friends, although not from school, if you see what

I mean."

"Not really," said Mrs Pickle shaking her head. "Do they have names?" Then, after being told the

children's names, she looked in surprise. "Mrs Bristow told me there were two girls coming to stay, not

one. You'll have to help me try to put a fourth bed in the boys' room. Oh dear me. I hope it'll fit in."

"Our cousin George is a girl and her real name is Georgina," explained Julian. "She likes to do boyish

things and be treated like a boy so we always call her George. So there are two girls and three boys,

including Buster."

"Well that's a relief, and I'll certainly call you George, if that's what you want," said Mrs Pickle, to

George's delight. "The dog is yours, George, if I'm not mistaken."

"That's right," said George. "Come here, Timmy. Sit down and say hello to Mrs Pickle."


12/86

Timmy sat down in front of the beaming lady, offering his paw which she solemnly held. "How do you

do, Timothy?" she said. "What a nice, polite dog. Take note, Buster. Now show your friends to their

rooms with their bags. Your driver can come and have a nice cup of tea and some buns, not to mention

a chinwag before returning to Kirrin. Then the crab goes back to the creek."

"Don't eat all the buns; save some for us!" teased Buster, rushing into the house. "Come along, Famous

Five, as Dick always calls you."

He led the way past a wide staircase into a hall, lined with dark, wooden panels, on which hung old

photographs of the area, then through the dining room with windows along one side opposite a brick

fireplace. Beyond was a large, square room with windows on three sides. There was another staircase in

this room, although much narrower than the one in the hall. The room also had panelled walls in front

of which were a few items of furniture, some clearly quite old. There was also a fireplace similar to the

one in the dining room.

"Dad informed me that this room and those above were added to the house by a smuggler called Jake

Rawlins, thus the name of the house," explained Buster. "By the way, he said he's sorry to've missed you

Dad, I mean, not Smuggler Jake but he and Mum had to hurry away. Anyway, they'll see you in a fewdays. Now we use this staircase here. My parents use the staircase you've just seen as their room is at

the other end of the house. Come on, Timmy dog. Follow me."

George scowled when Timmy immediately followed Buster up the stairs instead of waiting for her.

Noticing her frown and knowing how jealous she was if Timmy obeyed another person, Julian urgently

whispered to her.

"Please don't say anything, George," he said. "Buster's simply being friendly towards Tim."

George was, indeed, about to call Timmy back but she respected Julian enough not to say anything.

Instead, she followed Dick and Anne up the narrow staircase which led to a wide landing, once again

with an oak panelled wall. Two large rooms and a bathroom and cupboard led off the landing, while a

narrow corridor disappeared into the darkness to the other part of the rambling house.

"This is your room, Anne and George," said Buster, indicating the first room. "Ours is next door. Both

rooms have a smashing view of the creek. Now unpack then come and sample Mrs Pickle's excellent

buns. Afterwards, I'll show you this part of Phantom Creek and secret passages in the caves!"

CHAPTER 4: THE BEACH AND THE CAVES

The Five hurriedly unpacked before following Buster, who charged down the stairs at top speed with

what appeared to be torches sticking out of the pockets of his shorts. Mrs Pickle and Ted, the driver,

startled by the sudden and noisy arrival, looked round in amazement.

"My, oh my, oh my! I thought a stampeding herd of elephants was approaching!" exclaimed Mrs Pickle.

"It didn't take you long to unpack. I hope you've put everything away properly."


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"Yes, of course, we haveat least, they have cause I don't need to unpack, so haven't," said Buster

speaking quickly as usual. He then gave a cheeky grin. "Er, how about us sampling your delicious buns

because it won't be good for you if you eat them all?"

"Don't be saucy!" retorted Mrs Pickle pretending to be indignant. "They're in the cake tin over there.

Just one each, mind, or you won't eat your supper."

"Oh yes we jolly well will!" answered Dick, hurrying over to the cake tin. "It smells really good."

"Well I'll be off, Ada," said Ted getting up. "Thanks for the tea and buns. Something tells me you're in for

a lively time. Enjoy yourselves, youngsters. Watch out Smuggler Jake doesn't get you!"

"He'd better watch out we don't get him!" said Buster, biting into his bun.

"Bye Ted. We'll see you in a few days' time," said Mrs Pickle as the driver departed. She turned to the

children. "Since there's some time before supper, what do you five plan to do?"

"Six," corrected George immediately, making Buster roar with laughter.

"Timmy always counts as one of them, or one of us, now," explained Buster seeing the surprised look on

Mrs Pickle's face. "So there are really six of us instead of five. See?"

"No I don't! You really do talk in riddles at times, Buster!" declared Mrs Pickle shaking her head. "You get

me right down confused."

"Buster's going to show us the beach," said Julian. "First, is there anything we can do for you, Mrs

Pickle?"

"Not right now, thank you, Julian," replied Mrs Pickle, impressed by the boy's manners. "You go out and

explore. It's a fascinating place is Phantom Creek. And since you're going out, Buster, take this crab with

you. It's not right keeping it in a jar."

"That's why the jar was on its side when you found it," laughed Buster, keeping out of Mrs Pickle's reach.

"So the crab could explore which it couldn't do if the jar was the right way up could it?"

"Take that crab back to the beach or there'll be bread and cheese for your supper, Buster Bristow!"

declared Mrs Pickle in a stern voice.

"Yes Mrs Pickle," said Buster pretending to sound innocent as he took the jar. "Tell you what. For a treat,

I'll bring you back an eel if I catch one. That would be able to wriggle about all over the table."

Seeing Mrs Pickle reach for the rolling pin, he shot out of the front door, again roaring with laughter,

followed at a more leisurely pace by the Five. Once outside, they made their way to the rear of the

house where, beyond the garden gate, they found themselves on top of the cliff. The large, semi-circularcreek opened up in front of them, two large buoys indicating the safe entrance. Beyond was the mouth

of the River Luddle and the open sea, sparkling in the afternoon sun.

At the foot of the cliff, little waves gently danced towards the many rock pools before collapsing.

Seagulls swooped over the pools, uttering their plaintive cries, while a fishing boat was slowly wending

its way between the buoys having come from the open sea, its crew hard at work sorting out the fish.


14/86

Next door to Rawlins Haven was another and larger rambling old house, with little windows peering out

from what appeared to be rather crooked ivy-clad walls. There were even tiny dormer windows in the

uneven roof. Amazingly, the part of the house closest to the children was actually built into the cliff

itself, beyond which the cliff top sloped downwards towards the village.

"That's the Luddle Creek Hotel," explained Buster. "It's now owned by a Captain Richardson who's only

recently moved into the village. It's being refurbished or whatever you call it the hotel, not the village

although work has stopped while a handful of rooms have been opened up to a group of scientists

who are here for a few days. They're attending conferences chaired by one of Phantom Creek's very

own scientists called Dr Raynor. I say, is your Dad coming, George? He's a scientist, isn't he? Dick's

forever bragging about his brilliant uncle at school."

"I don't brag," snapped Dick, turning red. "I just happen to be proud of Uncle Quentin."

"With good reason," added Julian. "I'm proud of him, too."

"No, my father's not attending the meetings here as his work isn't involved," replied George, gazing at

the old hotel. "He mentioned them and referred to Dr Raynor as he's met her several times. I say, what's

that strange building way up there in the distance?"

"An old, disused fort," replied Buster. "Something to do with the Emperor Napoleon but he couldn't

have had it built as he was French, wasn't he, and France is over the water?"

"It would have been built as a defence against Napoleon in case he invaded," explained Dick. "We learnt

about him in history last term. Don't you ever concentrate, Buster?"

"Sometimes," replied Buster casually. "Come on. Let's go down to the beach. Race you, Tim!"

They made their way down the narrow cliff path to the shingly beach where Buster immediately bent

over one of the many rock pools, the tide being well out. He released the relieved crab which hurriedly

sidled away in search of shelter beneath some seaweed.

"Where do you keep your boat, Buster?" asked Julian looking around.

"Follow me," instructed Buster, hurrying as usual around some rocks towards a wooden door

constructed in the cliff face. "There's a natural cave behind that door and that's where we keep our

boat. There are quite a lot of caves along here. Some are used for keeping boats like ours is but most are

open. We'll go for a row around the creek tomorrow but now I'll show you the smugglers' caves."

Putting down the empty jar, he shot through the narrow entrance of a nearby cave instructing the

others to wait outside. Timmy followed but was immediately called back by George. There was a

scraping sound, then silence. The four children waited and waited until Dick, becoming impatient, called

out.

"Come on, Buster, what are you playing at?" he shouted. There was no reply. "Right. We're coming in."

With Timmy leading the way, the Five entered the cave but, of course, it was too dark to see anything

beyond the entrance. Suddenly they were startled by a loud yell "BEWARE!" and there, behind them,

stood Buster, grinning from ear to ear.

"Where have you come from?" demanded a surprised George.


15/86

"We didn't see you leave the cave so how come you're behind us?" asked Anne, looking mystified.

"Aha! I've just been through one of the smugglers' passages," explained Buster. "That's why you didn't

see me. I said I'd show you them. I've brought two torches so you take one, Julian, and bring up the rear

while I lead the way. I say, can Timmy climb over rocks?"

"Of course he can!" declared George, amazed anyone could think otherwise. "He's a very good climber,aren't you Timmy?"

Timmy responded by giving a couple of barks which sounded extremely loud in the cave and made

everyone jump.

"I take that as being yes," said Buster. "Now we keep to the left then climb over these rocks."

By the light of Buster's torch, the others were surprised to see a number of rocks seemingly piled one on

top of each other and an unexpectedly high roof to the cave. Buster clambered over the first two before

going out of sight behind the remainder. Timmy at once leapt nimbly up the rocks while Julian shone his

torch so that Dick, George and Anne could see their way up.

"I'm at the top so I'll shine my torch down and you'll see where you're putting your feet," said Buster.

"Sorry about the seaweedy smell."

Living by the sea, the others were quite used to the smell of seaweed and to climbing over rocks. In next

to no time they had joined Buster on a small, uneven platform, surrounded by more rocks.

"So now where do we go?" asked Dick. "There's no way out."

"Oh yes there is!" said Buster, facing the rocky wall. "See this sloping rock. We have to scramble up to

the top. It's just a few feet but is quite slippery because of the particles of dry sand so watch out."

Placing his torch in his mouth, he quickly scrambled up the slippery rock and disappeared out of sight.

"You come next, Dick," he called. "Then you can help George and Anne while I hold the torch."

"I don't need any help!" snapped George at once, and quickly followed Dick.

Before Anne could attempt to climb, Timmy darted up the sloping rock face as sure footed as a goat.

Soon Anne and Julian were at the top which, in fact, marked the start of a twisting tunnel, leading

downwards fairly steeply. With only two torches between them, it was not easy making progress

through the tunnel, especially as Timmy kept wanting to pass back and forth.

"It's not far," said Buster. "In fact, I'm about to enter another cave. We just need to squeeze round this

rock."

He squeezed himself awkwardly around a tall rock and shone his torch back so that Dick and George

could do likewise. Now it was a matter of scrambling down to the sandy floor of the cave, lit up by

daylight. Timmy leaped down and waited impatiently for George to descend. Soon the five children and

dog were back on the beach, blinking in the sudden light.

"It's nice to be in daylight again and to inhale fresh air," declared Julian, brushing himself down. "Are

there any more passages like that?"


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"Quite a few," replied Buster. "This cliff used to be riddled with tunnels, some natural, some constructed

by the smugglers from the beach to their houses on the cliff. Those old tunnels were blocked up ages

ago as they weren't safe. Such a pity. The one we just used was a natural one through rock so perfectly

safe."

"Show us another tunnel, Buster," pleaded Dick eagerly. "I love secret tunnels."

"They're not that secret," giggled Buster. Then he thought for a moment. "Mind you, there is one that

nobody around here has referred to so might be secret. I discovered it when sheltering from a sudden

downpour. It's near the hotel jetty. Come on. This way."

Off he darted around some rocks with Timmy close behind. The others had no choice but to follow as

Buster made his way beyond the cliff path to some caves near a little jetty with posts at intervals. A

yellow motor boat was moored to one of the posts.

"That boat belongs to Captain Richardson," pointed out Buster when the others had joined him. "Now

this is the cave we want."

He turned to enter the nearest cave, but abruptly stopped, uttering a gasp of surprise. A tall, severe

looking man with black hair, wearing a dark cloak and holding a stick, emerged from the gloomy interior.

It was the man the Five had noticed when they drove through the village.

"And just where do you think you're going?" he demanded, looking at each child in turn without smiling.

"The caves along here belong to me. I do hope you weren't considering trespassing on my property."

CHAPTER 5: CAPTAIN RICHARDSON AND THE FISHERMEN

"Captain Richardson!" exclaimed Buster, taken aback. "Gosh, you startled me. Since when have these

caves along here belonged to you? You've only recently come to this village. I've often been inside

them."

"Well, from now on, you will keep out of these caves," declared the haughty Captain Richardson, making

Timmy growl. "They belong to the hotel and I own the hotel. If you must play in caves there are plenty

nearer the sea, although I must say, I find one cave very much like another."

"If these caves have always been open to everybody, you have no right claiming they're yours," stated

Julian, disliking the attitude of the surly man.

"Can I not? Oh dear!" sneered Captain Richardson. "We'll see about that, my boy. And do stop that nasty

hound growling at me. It's clearly a very unfriendly and most unpleasant creature."

"My dog is only unpleasant and unfriendly if people are unpleasant and unfriendly," snapped George,

immediately flaring up and glaring at the man. "People like you, for example!"

"Goodness me. A nasty dog and ill-mannered children!" said Captain Richardson. "Tut, tut. What is this

village coming to? Now listen to me very carefully. Keep away from my caves. Go and play somewhere

else."


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With that, he draped the cloak around himself with a flourish and strode away while George held on to

Timmy's collar, afraid the growling dog might go for the man.

"Play somewhere else!" said Buster scornfully. "How old does the stupid man think we are?"

"So that's Captain Richardson," said Julian watching the man go up the nearby cliff path. "What a surly

fellow! We saw him as we drove through the village. Mind you, you were quite rude to him, George."

"I don't care!!" retorted George, scowling. "How dare he call Timmy unpleasant. Ghastly, horrible,

bumptious man!"

"Well I'm glad George was rude to him," declared Buster. "Well done George and well done, Timmy,

for growling."

"Look, we don't really need to go into these two caves," reasoned Anne, who was somewhat shaken by

the confrontation. "After all, Buster, you've pointed out plenty of others."

"Well I'm jolly well going to go into this cave whether he likes it or not!" said the determined Buster. "So

there!"

"And I'll come, too!" added George. "So will Timmy!"

The two moved towards the entrance of the cave but Julian, taking Buster firmly by the arm, ordered

them back.

"Just be sensible, both of you," he insisted. "Let's not cause any sort of trouble while your parents are

away, Buster. It's not fair to Mrs Pickle and it looks bad for us, your guests. Don't forget, there's a slight

chance the caves really do belong to the hotel like these mooring posts do."

"I dislike that awful Captain Richardson as much as any of you but I agree with Julian," said Dick, while

George glared at him. "Tell you what, Buster. Why not take us to the pier where that fishing boat came

in? That'll be interesting."

"O.K.," agreed Buster reluctantly. "You're right, Julian. We don't want that ghastly man complaining to

Mrs Pickle as she'd probably feel obliged to inform my parents and they'll come rushing back. You know

what grown-ups are. Hey, see that old man perched on a rock near the pier? That's old Benjamin. Let's

go and have a chat with him. He used to be a sailor."

Before any of the others could reply, Buster was trotting along the beach towards the pier. He

approached a rock where an elderly weather-beaten man with white hair and a beard to match was

sitting, puffing away contentedly at his pipe while gazing out to sea. The man looked up in surprise on

hearing the children approach.

"Bless me. I knows you, young Master Bristow, but I doesn't know them," he said, indicating the Five

with his pipe. "Why are you in such a hurry? That's the trouble today. Folks is always in a hurry. No time

to just sit and contemplate. Always rushing about."

"Hello, Benjamin. These are my friends from school," pointed out Buster, then corrected himself. "At

least, these two are and the other two are sister and cousin, or both cousins, or something complicated

like that."


18/86

"Hello, youngsters, whoever you be," greeted old Benjamin. Then he looked at Anne and grinned

broadly. "Don't ee let these four lads boss you about, lass."

"She bosses us about," laughed George, pleased to be mistaken for a boy.

"No I don't," retorted Anne, looking indignant. "Well it's nice to see a smiling face, Mr Benjamin. We've

just met a nasty horrid man."

"A nasty horrid man! And just who might that be?" enquired Benjamin, his head on one side. "Folks

round ere be perfectly friendly as long as you be friendly."

"It was that new man in the village. Told us to keep out of his caves," explained Buster. "You know. The

man who's bought the hotel. Captain Richardson."

Hearing that, old Benjamin removed the pipe from his mouth and, to the children's surprise, burst out

laughing. "Captain Richardson!" he finally managed to say, wiping tears from his eyes. "Oh dear. Well I'm

bless'd! That man bain't be no captain no more than I be. Captain Richardson, indeed! Oh dear, oh dear,

oh dear!"

Old Benjamin erupted into more laughter, so infectious that the children could not help joining in.

Another weather-beaten man, one of the fishermen from the nearby boat, approached and was

addressed between guffaws by Benjamin.

"Just ee come over ere, Nathaniel, and listen to this," chuckled old Benjamin, indicating with his pipe.

"You won't believe it but these ere lads and this lass have been told to keep away from them there

caves by..." There was an interruption while Benjamin again chortled heartily. "Captain Richardson.

Captain Richardson, I tell ee!"

Now both men guffawed heartily, old Benjamin nearly tumbling off his rock, such was his glee.

"Mr Midshipman Richardson, more likely," remarked Nathaniel, still laughing and holding his stomach."Thinks he owns Phantom Creek, he does, just cause he's bought that there hotel. Got no time for him,

meself. To tell truth, don't know nobody what has."

"Do the caves by the mooring posts really belong to the hotel?" asked Julian feeling certain the two men

would know the answer.

"Them two with the doors does," replied Benjamin looking back along the beach. "Them others've

always been left open for anybody to go in and out. Been in em meself."

"Did Smuggler Jake use them?" asked Dick. "We've heard about him."

"Ay, he did," nodded Nathaniel. "I mind there used to be a passage through the cliff up into the hotel

from one of them caves, but I reckon it be one with a door where they keeps boats. There were

passages in lots of the caves, some natural, but some..." Nathaniel paused for effect, gazing solemnly at

the children out of the corner of his eyes, "some was built by Smuggler Jake and his men, or so they

says."

"Why, there was even a secret passage up to your house, Master Bristow," said Benjamin. "Mind you.

That bain't be surprising cause Smuggler Jake lived there."


19/86

"I've heard about it but have never found the entrance," said Buster, while the other children listened

eagerly. "Do you know whereabouts it is, Benjamin?"

"No, I doesn't know," replied Benjamin shaking his head. "I did hear tell in my younger days that it

wasn't one of them blocked up ones. Just well hidden, so they says. I mind they used to call it Smuggler

Jake's Passage."

"Perhaps Captain Richardson knows where it be," suggested Nathaniel, a twinkle in his eye. This caused

both men to again roar with hearty laughter then Nathaniel glanced towards the pier. "Better be getting

back to me boat," he said. "Only came to greet me old pal, Benjamin. Caught some fine lobsters this trip.

Wait till I tells me mates that the man Richardson calls hisself Captain."

With that, the still chuckling Nathaniel hurried back to his boat, the Phantom Star, where the day's catch

was now being sorted out. Saying goodbye to Benjamin, sucking away happily at his pipe, the children

wandered over to watch. Sudden raucous laughter from the fishing boat clearly meant Nathaniel had

told the crew about Captain Richardson.

"It's really strange how somebody unpleasant like that man Richardson has managed to cheer up so

many people," laughed Dick. "I say, Buster. Is Benjamin right about Richardson not being a real captain?"

"More than likely," replied Buster. "He introduced himself as Captain Richardson to the shopkeepers so

we assumed he had been a captain. I say. Nathaniel didn't exaggerate, did he? He's certainly had a good

catch."

"Just look at those lobsters," said Anne as they approached the fishermen. "I wouldn't like to get nipped

by one of them. Oh no, that fisherman's picking one up."

"They know how to handle them just as I know how to handle crabs," said Buster. "I say, wouldn't it be

fun to take a lobster back to Mrs Pickle? She'd run a mile."

"I have a feeling that you'd have to be very brave or extremely foolish to take on Mrs Pickle and a

lobster," laughed Julian. "Between them, they'd make a formidable enemy."

Timmy raised his nose and sniffed loudly, cautiously looking at the lobsters. He wisely decided to keep

his distance as he remembered his friend Alf holding one at Kirrin, one that nearly nipped poor Tim's

nose. Horrid creatures!

One of the fishermen, a young lad, patted Tim then turned and grinned at the children. "You're new

here, aren't you?" he called. "Are you going to let Buster take you out in that boat of his or would you

feel safer with Admiral Richardson?"

"Admiral Richardson!" repeated Buster in delight. "I really like that, Matthew."

"Golly, doesn't he look like a younger version of Nathaniel?" remarked Anne, as the lad returned to his

work.

"That's hardly surprising as he's Nathaniel's grandson," said Buster casually. "Matthew usually goes out

with his father, Tom, but Tom clearly didn't need him today but Nathaniel did so Matthew went out with

Nathaniel instead of Tom. Gosh, I'm getting in a muddle."

"As usual!" laughed Dick.


20/86

"Come on, let's make our way to the village teashop," suggested Buster.

"We can't possibly have tea as Mrs Pickle is preparing what smelt like a smashing supper," said George.

"Anyway. Won't the shops be closed by now?"

"I didn't mean we should have tea," replied Buster. "I was thinking about managing an ice cream each.

The newsagent part of the teashop stays open a while so people can buy the evening paper or theirbaccy or sweets."

"Or ice cream," added Dick with a grin. "That's an excellent idea of yours, Buster. Lead the way. Bye,

Matthew, Nathaniel and everybody."

The friendly fishermen waved goodbye as the five children and dog walked back towards the village

street. The road twisted and turned between the little shops, most of which had, indeed, closed for the

day. The few people out and about nodded and smiled at the children.

"You stay on your lead now, Timmy," said George. "You know, Phantom Creek does remind me of Kirrin

with its shops of all shapes and sizes and friendly people. Where's that teashop?"

"On t'other side of the butcher's," pointed out Buster. "Pity the butcher's closed. We could have got a

bone for Timmy, I mean, not for us."

Two customers were making purchases when the children entered the teashop. When it was their turn,

Julian ordered five ice cream cornets and a small tub, this being for Timmy.

"Enjoy your stay at Phantom Creek," said the cheerful lady piling ice cream into the cornets. "It's a quiet

place, but very friendly."

"Apart from Admiral Richardson," said Buster giggling loudly. "Calls himself Captain, but we know

otherwise."

Anne gave him a nudge, but it was too late. Another customer had just entered the shop and overheard

Buster.

It was a tall, dark haired man wearing a black cloak!

CHAPTER 6: OUT IN BUSTER'S BOAT

"You insolent child!" snarled the angry man, glaring at Buster. "That's the second time you've been

impolite. Just wait till I inform your parents of your impertinence I've met them, remember. Until then,

should I receive any more rudeness from you, I'll take matters into my own hands and teach you a

lesson you'll definitely remember. Take heed!"

Buster longed to answer back but wisely thought better of it. It wouldn't do for his parents to receive

complaints while his friends were staying with him. He longed to poke his tongue out at the glowering

man but, instead, glared back and went outside with the others.


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"You've certainly made an enemy there!" declared George, holding the tub for Tim to lick while trying to

lick her cornet. "Not that it would make me lose any sleep."

"It doesn't worry me in the least," grinned Buster. "I just don't want him to cause trouble while you're

staying. He would choose that moment to enter the shop. Now let's enjoy our ice creams. Thanks

awfully, Julian."

Back at Rawlins Haven, the children told Mrs Pickle about their encounters with the surly Captain

Richardson as they tucked into their supper.

"I agree he's a most unpleasant and extremely arrogant man, and not at all popular in the village," she

said, then looked directly at Buster, wagging her finger. "However, that is no excuse for any rudeness

towards him. You have no right to say he's not really a captain, not that I could care less whether he is or

isn't. As for the caves, to my knowledge, the ones without doors are public property but I could be

wrong. Anyhow, there are plenty of other caves besides the ones below that man's hotel."

"It's the principle that counts," insisted Buster then, seeing Mrs Pickle still staring at him without her

usual smile, added, "but don't worry, Mrs Pickle. I shall be only too pleased to keep out of that man's

way but, if I do keep out of his way, that means he's got to keep out of my way, doesn't it? That's only

fair."

"I suppose so, put like that" replied Mrs Pickle relaxing. "Now do let's change the subject. What are your

plans for tomorrow?"

"Buster's going to take us out in his boat," said Anne. "We'll go all around the creek. I do hope it's

another fine day. It'll be lovely on the water."

"You'll enjoy that," said Mrs Pickle, smiling again. "Do watch out for those treacherous mud banks,

Buster."

"You're worrying again, Mrs Pickle," grinned Buster. "Dad refused to let me go out alone in the boat until

Nathaniel we spoke to him earlier, by the way had come out with me a few times at different stages

of the tide. He, that's Nathaniel, not Dad, said I was a true seadog."

"Not a captain or admiral?" teased Dick while Mrs Pickle shook her head, inwardly trying to suppress a

smile.

The following morning was bright and sunny so, after breakfast, the five children and Timmy made their

way down to the beach and over to the cave housing Buster's boat. Buster produced a large key and

opened the stout wooden doors which creaked on their large hinges.

The tide was now on its way out although the waves still ran eagerly up the beach as they tried in vain to

reach the foot of the cliffs. Most of the rock pools were still hidden beneath the water.

"How on earth do we get the boat over those pools?" asked a puzzled Julian. "The rocks must be just

below the surface of the water in places. They'll damage the boat."

"Yes, they are but, as the tide's still quite high, we haul the boat along the beach before tugging it down

to the water the other side of that huge rock," explained Buster, indicating a tall and rather jagged

looking rock a short distance away. "At low tide we have to lug the boat between the two large


22/86

rockpools, quite a drag! I suppose we could always use the hotel's jetty but that might upset Admiral

Richardson."

"Ooh, let's not get into any more trouble with him," begged Anne. "Horrid man. Let's just enjoy

ourselves today."

"Right, lend a hand with the boat, everyone," said Buster, giving the boat a shove. "Drag it over to thelarge rock and keep to the sandy places."

It was, in fact, surprisingly easy hauling the boat over the sandy section and down to the water. Tim

bounded in before any of the children and took his place at the helm.

"That's exactly where he sits in your boat, George," said Anne with a laugh as she climbed aboard. Dick,

Julian and George followed her.

"I'll row with Buster," said Julian taking an oar while Buster prepared to push the boat out.

"Dick and I can do some rowing as well," said George haughtily. "I'm used to rowing, don't forget. More

than you are, in fact."

"Yes, I heartily agree with you, Madam, so come off your high horse," said Julian with a laugh.

"Heave ho and off we go," called Buster, giving the boat a hefty shove, making it bob freely on the

water. At once he clambered on board, taking up a position next to Julian.

"We'll swing the boat round then keep the buoy with the figure 2 on it to our port side," he said, dipping

his oar in the water. "Dick, you be our guide as Julian and I will be facing the shore."

The water was quite calm in the creek so it was not long before they reached the buoy, deftly rowing to

the right of it. Few other boats were out, the little fishing boats having departed much earlier.

"Now we can leisurely row around the creek," said Buster. "See that big house on the hill, the one withthe turret? That's Estuary House. It belongs to Dr Raynor, the scientist. As I told you yesterday, she's

holding meetings with the scientists staying at the Luddle Creek Hotel."

"Your house and the hotel certainly stand out," said George, peering at the houses on the cliff. "The

hotel has a little tower at the end where it's built into the cliff. I didn't notice it yesterday."

"That's because it's hardly visible from the ground or from our house," said Buster. "You can actually see

it from your bedroom if you crane your neck."

"The other houses on the cliff to the right of yours all look quite old," observed Julian, glancing across

the water. "Were they smugglers' houses as well?"

"Oh yes," answered Buster. "Many of them had secret passages linked to the tunnels in the cliff. To be

honest, I reckon most people in Phantom Creek did a bit of smuggling, even the fishermen. But it was

Smuggler Jake and his men who were in charge."

"Can anybody use the pier for mooring?" asked Dick, gazing towards the shore. "There's only one boat

there at the moment."


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"It's reserved for the fishing boats morning and evening but, during the rest of the day, anyone can

moor there as long as they report to the harbour master, as he's still grandly called," replied Buster.

"The pier was constructed as there's still a channel through the silt that has blocked much of what used

to be a harbour."

"I say, just look who's standing on the pier watching us," cried Anne with a gasp.

Everyone glanced across the water. There, apparently staring at them, was the unmistakeable cloaked

figure of Captain Richardson. Buster could not resist waving but there was no response from the man

who remained motionless.

"It's as though we can't get rid of him, even out on the water," said George. "Can we see Mrs Pickle's

house from here?"

"Just about, I should think," replied Buster, stopping rowing for a moment. "Yes, it's that thatched

cottage at the foot of the hill on the other side of the road to Rawlins Haven. A nice little place."

"That's just the sort of place where I would expect Mrs Pickle to live," said Anne. "Cosy with tiny

windows and, no doubt, very, very tidy." Then she looked further round the creek and pointed. "Just

look at all those cottages huddled together higgledy-piggledy for company."

"Yes, they're really quaint," said Buster. "Some look ready to fall down but they're quite sturdy really

with thick walls."

"There's a lovely old tall ship with rigging further round the shore," pointed out Dick. "It looks as though

it belongs to another age in fact, to the time of the smugglers! Can we row over to it?"

"No because of the mud flats," explained Buster, taking up his oar again. "The ship's being refitted at the

boat builder's. It's smashing, isn't it? I'd love to go out to sea on her. She's still got the old crow's nest.

See?"

"What's that?" asked Anne, looking for a nest among the rigging.

"Where the lookout positions himself, silly," said George scornfully. "It's high up so he has the best view,

better even than the captain's."

"We can't get much closer, unfortunately," said Buster. "There is a channel, quite a deep one, leading

directly to the boat builder's marked by the two buoys we're approaching, but there's a sign you can

probably see it saying the channel must be kept clear. Now, Julian, we need to turn a bit to port here

and make for the river. These are all fishermen's cottages along this corner of the creek. Luckily it hasn't

silted up here so the few who have their own boats can keep them tethered on the beach near their

cottages."

As the two boys rowed towards the river, the water suddenly became more choppy giving a bumpy ride

and making rowing more difficult. At the helm, a puzzled Timmy wondered what was happening but

skilfully managed to keep his balance.

"It's always like this when rowing from the creek onto the river," explained Buster. "I suggest we row

towards the sea so you can get a view of Phantom Creek from the mouth of the river. In a few moments

we'll start bobbing along with the river's current."


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And bob along they did! The mouth of the river was much wider than it had appeared to be from the

village. The cliffs beyond Rawlins Haven rose to quite a height and, on the highest point, beyond the old

fort, a white lighthouse, gleaming in the sun, proudly stood.

"It reminds me of Demon's Rock Lighthouse and Tinker with his monkey," said Anne.

"Who on earth is Tinker?" asked Buster. "And where's Demon's Rocks?"

The others described their strange holiday in the Demon's Rock lighthouse and the exciting adventure

they had had there. Buster was very envious.

"I wish you'd have one of your adventures while you're staying with me at Phantom Creek," he said.

"Gosh, they sound like enormous fun."

"They are, but only when they're over," said Anne, making everyone laugh.

"Well, we did say we'd have an adventure at Phantom Creek," declared Julian. "So be prepared."

"This is one place where you're not likely to have an adventure," sighed Buster wistfully. "Not a great

deal happens at Phantom Creek."

But Buster was wrong. He would soon find out that Phantom Creek could be a very adventurous place,

especially as the Famous Five were staying there!

CHAPTER 7: IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT

That afternoon, Buster took the Five for a walk along the cliff, beyond the old fort and towards the

lighthouse they had seen earlier in the day. It was very blustery, especially near the lighthouse where

the wind was blowing directly off the sea. They passed a group of four men and two women who were

in such earnest conversation that they didn't seem to notice the five children and dog.

"They're the scientists," pointed out Buster. "I saw them yesterday in the hotel garden and they were

deep in conversation then. Scientists seem to live in their own little world."

"I have noticed," said George wryly. "We've got one at home! I say. Do those steps lead down to the

beach? Let's return that way and explore more caves."

"Good idea as there'll be less wind down there," said Buster, immediately running over to the steps.

"Come on slowcoaches!"

They descended to the beach using steps cut into the side of the cliff. It was far more pleasant strollingback along the sheltered beach, the tide being well out. Tim thoroughly enjoyed sliding in and out of the

seaweedy rock pools making the children squeal whenever he shook himself near them as he did

frequently.

"Please don't do that again, Timmy!" begged Anne after she had been drenched for the third time. "That

water's cold. Choose another victim. I'm soaked."


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A laughing Buster led the way into more caves with tunnels and passages leading in and out of them. It

was too dark to actually enter the passages but it was clear that some soon came to an abrupt end.

Huge stones blocked the way.

"The tunnels leading into the cliff were blocked because people got lost in them," explained Buster.

"Only those linking caves were left worst luck! I would have loved exploring passages leading to the

different houses."

"And getting lost!" added Dick with a grin.

"I jolly well wouldn't but I'd make people shiver with fear by knocking at the doors at the other end of

the passages and moaning and groaning," declared Buster gleefully. Then he thought for a moment.

"Mind you, come to think of it, I don't suppose the passages did end with doors because that would be

too obvious if customs officers arrived unexpectedly to search the premises. I wonder how they did end,

or begin depends how you look at it."

"Same as the one leading to and from Rawlins Haven, I expect," said Julian. "Extremely well hidden as it

certainly hasn't got a door or you would have found it. I say. I've an idea. How about us trying to find

Smuggler Jake's Passage, as old Benjamin called it, this evening? Benjamin seemed convinced it still

exists."

The others were only too pleased with the suggestion, especially Buster, despite the fact he had

searched in vain for the elusive passage so many times. Thus, after Mrs Pickle had returned home, the

children began their search in the room at the foot of their staircase. If only they could find Jake's

Passage!

"It has to start somewhere in this big room because this is the part of the house that was added to the

original by old Smuggler Jake," reasoned Buster as they carefully moved the furniture into the middle of

the room. Then they began tapping and pressing on the wooden panels, Timmy jumping up and down

wondering what was going on.

"These panels all look and feel the same," sighed Dick after a while. "I suppose one could slide up or

across to reveal a handle or a lever. Try sliding the panels everyone."

"I've done that but it won't hurt doing it again," said Buster, shrugging his shoulders. "It's so frustrating

knowing there's a secret passage nearby but not being able to find it."

"The Secret Way starts under the floor in my father's study," said George. "Could Jake's Passage start

under the floor in this room?"

"You've actually got a secret way in your house!" exclaimed Buster sounding both envious and

impressed. "Gosh, lucky you. This room has a stone floor. Dad did have the carpet up once to see if anyof the flagstones had rings in them to help lift them up. But there were no rings and the stones were

positioned extremely close to one another. It would be impossible to lift one without disturbing those

around it."

"What about the fireplace?" asked Julian. "It's quite large."

"I've poked around inside but found nothing," replied Buster. "Besides, it's sort of in the wrong place

not on an outside wall."


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"Could the passage start in the dining room?" suggested Anne. "It has the same sort of panelling as this

room."

"Trouble is, that's part of the original house," said Buster with a sigh. "The story is that Smuggler Jake

had the new part constructed so the passage would lead into it."

"That makes sense," said George. "How come you haven't found the other end as you seem to know allthe caves extremely well?"

"I reckon it was blocked up despite what Benjamin said," replied Buster. "Anyway, I'd just like to find it

and see how far we could go from this end."

After more tapping and pressing and feeling thoroughly exasperated, the children replaced the furniture

and played a very noisy game before, eventually, going to bed.

It was about midnight when Anne was awakened by one of the open windows rattling on its catch.

Switching on her bedside lamp, she got out of bed to close it, watched by Timmy lying at the foot of

George's bed.

"How George manages to sleep with you there I do not know," she muttered, creeping over to the

window which she carefully closed. Suddenly she became aware of a light shining on and off in the next

building, somewhere above her.

"Whatever can that be?" she wondered, opening the window again. Glancing upwards, it was clear that

a bright light was, indeed, being switched on and off, but the source of the light itself could not be seen

as it seemed to be on the roof. Anne shook her head in amazement and was about to close the window

when she happened to glance towards the creek and what a shock she had! There, out on the water,

eerily bathed in moonlight and not looking real, was a sailing ship!

"The phantom ship!" she squealed. "The story's true. I must wake George."

At once she woke George who grunted irritably.

"Whatever's the matter, Anne?" asked George, yawning. "Why have you woken me up in the middle of

the night? I was having such a lovely dream. We'd found the secret passage and..."

"For goodness' sake be quiet and listen, George!" interrupted Anne. "Come over to the window. The

phantom ship is out there on the creek. See for yourself."

A rather sceptical and sleepy George made her way to the window and looked towards the creek,

expecting to see lights from a fishing boat. Instead, she drew in her breath as there, out on the water,

was a small ship, showing no lights but just visible in the moonlight. Then came a flash of light,

seemingly aimed at Rawlins Haven, followed by another.

""It can't be... no, it's not an old ship," she said. "Still, this is really exciting, Anne. Let's inform the boys."

Before Anne could say anything, a now wide-awake George had darted along the corridor to the boys'

room where she attempted to wake Dick whose bed was nearest the door.

"Dick, wake up. There's a ship out there on the creek signalling to us," she said rather loudly while giving

him a shake. "Dick, wake up, I say!"


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flashed from an upstairs room although I couldn't actually see the light itself," she said, sounding

disappointed.

"And I know why!" declared Buster, pointing upwards. "I bet the signalling was from that little tower

room. We saw it when we were out in the boat earlier today, no yesterday, as it's now tomorrow

today."

"You do say the most idiotic things at times, Buster," laughed Dick as they reached the edge of the cliff.

"That's strange. Now there's no sign of the ship. Don't say we've missed whatever's going on."

"It's vanished," said Anne fearfully. "Perhaps it really was a phantom ship."

"That ship was real, I tell you," laughed Julian. Then he sounded serious. "Keep away from the edge,

everyone. It's far from clear in the moonlight. I suggest we creep down the cliff path to the beach.

Buster lead the way and have Tim close to you, George. Keep voices down in case there really are other

people out and about. If there are, I somehow don't think they'd give us much of a welcome!"

CHAPTER 8: ADVENTURE ON THE BEACH

This was quite a chilling thought. The children looked around uneasily, now imagining they could see

movements in the shadows. It was not a pleasant feeling.

Buster led the way to the top of the cliff path, keeping well away from the edge. Making sure they could

see nobody down below, they carefully went down the path and on to the beach. It was quite creepy

with the moon's distorted reflection eerily moving about on the water and its diffused light casting

weird shadows. At least there was the comforting sound of the waves tumbling gently into the rock

pools some way out.

"I definitely can't make out a ship," said Dick peering through the semi-darkness. "Yet it was fairly clear

from the house."

"It's probably gone out to sea," said Buster sounding disappointed. "Unless it really has vanished like the

story goes. But why should someone at the hotel signal to it, or it to the hotel and then it disappears?"

"Beats me," said Julian. "I hate saying this but I think the fun is over."

But it wasn't, for Timmy began to growl and stare along the shore towards the pier.

"What's up, Tim?" asked George as all the children now looked along the beach. At first, they saw

nothing out of the ordinary then, suddenly, they were startled to see a light from a torch.

"See that? A light!" exclaimed Buster, almost beside himself with excitement. "Whoever can be out here

in the middle of the night? And why? It must be to do with the other lights we've seen."

"Good job whoever it is hasn't spotted us in the moonlight," said George. "Now why is that person

shining a torch at the water? What can he be looking for? There's no boat out on the creek."


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"Wait, I can see a small boat down there!" cried Anne urgently, pointing a short distance out on the

water. "This side of the pier. It's about to reach the shore. For goodness' sake hold on to Tim, George.

No wonder he was growling."

"Fancy that. A phantom ship and, now, real live smugglers!" cried Buster loudly as he gazed along the

beach. "What a thrill! I wonder if Jake's ghost is with them."

"For goodness' sake keep your voice down, Buster!" said Dick, giving his friend a nudge. "They're hardly

real live smugglers but I still think it's as well not to advertise our presence."

"You know, that boat is so close to the shore that there's no way we're going to be able to use the cliff

path without the risk of being spotted," stated Julian, beginning to feel concerned. "Don't forget. If we

can see the boat, whoever's on it could see us."

"Help! You're right, Julian," agreed Buster, turning round. "Let's squat behind these rocks. They'd be

useless during the day but they'll hide us as it's dark, well almost hide us, if you see what I mean. We can

go into the caves if we need to. Oh look, they've reached the shore. I bet I know where they are. At the

hotel's jetty. But it's not the motor boat or we'd have heard it."

"If you're right, whoever's on board will probably use the cliff path assuming they're going to the hotel,"

said Julian. "Better hide behind rocks as Buster said, everyone. But take care."

There was a hurried scramble as the children found places behind various rocks, George holding the still

growling Timmy. As they watched, they could make out three figures leaving the boat to be approached

by the person waiting on the shore. Four shadowy shapes now moved up the beach then, unfortunately,

a cloud covered the moon. The beach was in total darkness.

"Whatever you do, don't switch on your torch, Buster, or our presence will certainly be noticed," said

Julian immediately. He glanced up at the sky. "It seems to be just a small cloud. We'll be in moonlight

again shortly and we'll see what those four are up to. Strange they're not using torches in the dark. Afterall, they can't know they're being watched by five children and a dog."

In less than a minute, the moon did emerge again from behind the cloud. Its shimmering light gradually

swept down the beach towards the jetty where, to the children's amazement, there was no sign of

anybody. There were no shadowy figures, no boat and no torches.

"Where have they gone?" asked Dick. "They've disappeared and, it seems, so has their boat."

"Perhaps the boat's returning to the ship that was signalling," suggested Anne.

"No, because that ship has also vanished and, in any case, they wouldn't have had time to row out of

sight, so they've sort of vanished as well!" cried Buster who was thoroughly enjoying his night

adventure. "This is so terribly exciting. I shan't want to go back to bed tonight."

"Well you'll jolly well have to," laughed Julian. Then he sounded more serious. "The trouble is, we don't

know if it's safe to use the cliff path. Those four people could well be nearby."

"I don't think they are," said George surprisingly. "Look, Timmy's quite relaxed and not staring down the

beach anymore. They must have gone."


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"Well they haven't had time to reach this cliff path," said Anne. "Besides, anyone going up that path in

darkness would use a torch."

"They must have hauled the boat up into the hotel boathouse and that's where they are now," declared

Dick.

"Yes, that makes sense, although they were jolly quick," agreed Julian. "But why spend so much time inthe boathouse?"

"Let's creep up on them and see," suggested the impetuous Buster.

"Don't be silly," retorted George scornfully. "They'd spot five of us and a dog making our way along the

beach the moment they left the boathouse, or wherever they are."

"I reckon we should risk making a dash for the cliff path," said Julian. "After all, we don't know for

certain those people are in the boathouse. They might have left the beach and gone into the village

while we wait here for ages. We can make use of the moonlight but, have your torch ready in case the

moon goes behind a cloud, Buster. Come on, everyone."

They darted across the sand to the foot of the cliff path and started going up it. Near the top, Julian told

five go to phantom creek by trevor j bolton

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