Puzzle for the Secret Seven (Secret Seven, Book 10)

Puzzle for the Secret Seven (Secret Seven, Book 10)

Enid Blyton

Language: English

Pages: 46

ISBN: 1444913522

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub

The gang witness the horror of a house going up in flames! Then there's the theft of a very valuable violin. Are the two incidents connected? The Seven mean to use all their detective know-how to find out!

Crystal the Snow Pony (Magic Pony Carousel, Book 6)

The Berenstain Bears and the Messy Room

Almost Starring Skinnybones

Thomas Jefferson's Feast
















has cut it to bits — and the brick has smashed that lovely old vase. I don’t rightly know what was in the window, sir, till I ask my assistant. He did the window for me yesterday, when I was away. Oh my word, what a mess!’ There was quite a crowd now, round the shop, and soon another policeman came. Colin and George wondered if they ought to say that they, too, had seen the man smash the window, and were just screwing up their courage to do so, when one of the policemen saw that there were a

their job in the hen-houses, and decided to take a day off. ‘We think we’ll go for a walk, Mother,’ said Peter. ‘May we have sandwiches?’ ‘Yes, dear. I’ll make you some,’ said his mother. ‘If you’re going near old Matt the shepherd, take him this letter, will you? It didn’t come till after he’d fetched his milk this morning.’ ‘Right,’ said Peter. ‘We’ll go to the woods, I think, and see how far the bluebells are up, and have our picnic there — and then we’ll go home over the hill where Matt

She laughed, and pushed a small batch of rather crumbly gingerbread squares over to them. ‘Help yourselves. These are done a bit too much. I can’t sell them.’ ‘Thanks! That’s nice of you,’ said Peter, and he and the others helped themselves. He saw a pram near-by, with a baby laughing in it. It was rather a dirty baby, and the pram was old and broken-down and dirty too — but the baby was such a merry little creature that no one could help watching it as they munched the delicious gingerbread.

very frightened. Why was his mother crying? Luke took the violin from the pram, where he had laid it when he went to comfort his wife. He put it into the eager little hands that went out for it — Benny’s small brown hands, that seemed to come alive when they felt the smoothness of the old violin. He walked a little way away, and stood with his back to them. He put the violin under his chin, and raised the bow — and on the air came once again that strange ‘wailing, unearthly and beautiful,

Mrs Bolan smiled round at them. ‘There! That’s an old gipsy tune. Benny plays them all! My little Benny! You’ve never heard him play, have you? He . . .’ ‘Well — we did hear him last night, when it was dark,’ said Peter. ‘And old Matt heard him the night before. But he only played that kind of wailing music of his own, and Matt was puzzled and told us about it.’ ‘So we came up last night to see if we could hear it too — and we did,’ said Colin. ‘But we knew at once that it was someone playing

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