Read Online The Bare Bum Gang and the Holy Grail by Anthony McGowan - Free Book Online
Authors: Anthony McGowan
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remember, you wait till we’re out of this place before you move, or I’ll smash your precious binoculars into a thousand pieces. If you’re a good boy you can come and collect them from our den tomorrow.’
And then they were out of there, cackling and sniggering and slapping each other on the back.
Chapter Thirteen
THE GRAIL
‘I ALWAYS SAID that was a rubbish dog,’ moaned The Moan after they’d gone.
‘It’s not really Rudy’s fault,’ I replied sadly. ‘He does like a dog biscuit, and we ought to have checked to make sure we weren’t being followed. It’s something you always have to do when you’re on a secret mission.’
‘What now, then?’ asked Jenny.
‘We could tell the police?’ Noah suggested.
‘What,’ said The Moan, ‘and explain that we’d sneaked into this place, when it clearly says that trespassers will be prosecuted ? Great idea. We’ll all end up in jail, and I’ll get my pocket money suspended for at least a year.’
‘Do you always have to think about yourself?’ said Jenny, and I knew one of their special sister-and-brother arguments was going to get started, which usually ended up with The Moan rolling around on the floor in agony.
‘Let’s see what this is,’ I said, taking out the book to try to distract them.
In fact it wasn’t a book but a photograph album. I opened the cover. There were ancient black-and-white photos of a child sitting up in a big pram. The next page had pictures of the baby being held by a lady in a hat.
As I turned the pages, we watched the baby grow into a little boy, and then a big boy. There were other children – brothers and sisters, I suppose. And a man with a big moustache who must have been his dad. And at the end there was a picture of a young man in army uniform, standing smartly to attention.
To begin with, the gang carried on grumbling and complaining, but soon they were as lost as I was in the old photographs.
‘I don’t get it,’ said Jamie. ‘Why has King Arthur got all these photos of that kid?’
‘It’s him, you chump,’ said The Moan.
‘Who?’
‘The kid in the photos, it’s King Arthur.’
‘Really? Oh, yeah, I get it. When he was a baby. And then when he was older.’
‘It’s the one thing he’s got, from before he was a tramp,’ said Noah.
And then it came to me in a flash of golden light.
‘Wait, don’t you see,’ I said. ‘This is it. This is the Grail, the treasure. Not that silly old jar of pennies. Like The Moan said, that was only a few pounds. But this . . . this is precious. How can you put a price on a man’s memories, on his life? That’s why he wanted us to bring it to him.’
The others nodded. Jenny looked like she might be about to cry. Noah already was.
‘It’s so sad,’ he said, a couple of tears rolling down his cheeks.
‘I think this might cheer you all up,’ said The Moan, who was looking out of the window.
We all went over. Miles below we could see the Dockery Gang. Five little figures.
Running.
They were running because they were being chased.
By Zoltan!
And, right behind him, the security guard, who was waving his truncheon over his head.
They made it to the tunnel just ahead of the dog. Dockery was the slowest runner, and he was the last one in. The dog followed him. I didn’t want to think about what was going to happen next. Well, I did really, and anyway, Jamie put it into words.
‘He is going to get his butt bitten to mincemeat.’
We all had a good laugh at that.
‘But it means we’re trapped, doesn’t it?’ said Noah. ‘The guard and his dog, they’ll be by the tunnel . . . How can we get out?’
‘Actually,’ I said, ‘I’ve been thinking about that. I don’t reckon King Arthur could have got in and out through that tunnel. He’s an old man. He couldn’t crawl through there on his hands and knees. He must have used some other way in and out. If we could find that . . .’
We all scanned the fence, looking for the
And then they were out of there, cackling and sniggering and slapping each other on the back.
Chapter Thirteen
THE GRAIL
‘I ALWAYS SAID that was a rubbish dog,’ moaned The Moan after they’d gone.
‘It’s not really Rudy’s fault,’ I replied sadly. ‘He does like a dog biscuit, and we ought to have checked to make sure we weren’t being followed. It’s something you always have to do when you’re on a secret mission.’
‘What now, then?’ asked Jenny.
‘We could tell the police?’ Noah suggested.
‘What,’ said The Moan, ‘and explain that we’d sneaked into this place, when it clearly says that trespassers will be prosecuted ? Great idea. We’ll all end up in jail, and I’ll get my pocket money suspended for at least a year.’
‘Do you always have to think about yourself?’ said Jenny, and I knew one of their special sister-and-brother arguments was going to get started, which usually ended up with The Moan rolling around on the floor in agony.
‘Let’s see what this is,’ I said, taking out the book to try to distract them.
In fact it wasn’t a book but a photograph album. I opened the cover. There were ancient black-and-white photos of a child sitting up in a big pram. The next page had pictures of the baby being held by a lady in a hat.
As I turned the pages, we watched the baby grow into a little boy, and then a big boy. There were other children – brothers and sisters, I suppose. And a man with a big moustache who must have been his dad. And at the end there was a picture of a young man in army uniform, standing smartly to attention.
To begin with, the gang carried on grumbling and complaining, but soon they were as lost as I was in the old photographs.
‘I don’t get it,’ said Jamie. ‘Why has King Arthur got all these photos of that kid?’
‘It’s him, you chump,’ said The Moan.
‘Who?’
‘The kid in the photos, it’s King Arthur.’
‘Really? Oh, yeah, I get it. When he was a baby. And then when he was older.’
‘It’s the one thing he’s got, from before he was a tramp,’ said Noah.
And then it came to me in a flash of golden light.
‘Wait, don’t you see,’ I said. ‘This is it. This is the Grail, the treasure. Not that silly old jar of pennies. Like The Moan said, that was only a few pounds. But this . . . this is precious. How can you put a price on a man’s memories, on his life? That’s why he wanted us to bring it to him.’
The others nodded. Jenny looked like she might be about to cry. Noah already was.
‘It’s so sad,’ he said, a couple of tears rolling down his cheeks.
‘I think this might cheer you all up,’ said The Moan, who was looking out of the window.
We all went over. Miles below we could see the Dockery Gang. Five little figures.
Running.
They were running because they were being chased.
By Zoltan!
And, right behind him, the security guard, who was waving his truncheon over his head.
They made it to the tunnel just ahead of the dog. Dockery was the slowest runner, and he was the last one in. The dog followed him. I didn’t want to think about what was going to happen next. Well, I did really, and anyway, Jamie put it into words.
‘He is going to get his butt bitten to mincemeat.’
We all had a good laugh at that.
‘But it means we’re trapped, doesn’t it?’ said Noah. ‘The guard and his dog, they’ll be by the tunnel . . . How can we get out?’
‘Actually,’ I said, ‘I’ve been thinking about that. I don’t reckon King Arthur could have got in and out through that tunnel. He’s an old man. He couldn’t crawl through there on his hands and knees. He must have used some other way in and out. If we could find that . . .’
We all scanned the fence, looking for the
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