Fun For Secret Seven (Secret Seven, Book 15)
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The Secret Seven help Tolly, an old man who lives on the hill, when his horse, Brownie, breaks his legs and his master, a farmer, threatens to shoot him.
‘Good night! Sleep well!’ Codger was the first one out and about the next morning. He scrabbled out of the straw in the stall he had slept in, and went to lick his master’s face. ‘Don’t,’ said Tolly, sleepily. ‘How many times have I told . . .’ And off he went to sleep again before he could finish his sentence! Codger looked up at the half-door that shut him and his master into the stall. Yes — he could just about jump it. He crouched — leapt as high as he could — and just failed to get
last one was two days ago. I’m sure there’s only ninety pence in it now.’ ‘Bad luck. Never mind, you can always save up a bit more later on’, said Peter. ‘We shan’t be able to pay much of the vet’s bill this time. George, what about you?’ ‘Ha!’ said George. ‘I’ve got some NEWS. Some weeks ago I went in for a competition for an essay about clubs — the first prize was ten pounds and . . .’ ‘You surely didn’t win THAT!’ shouted Peter, standing up in excitement. ‘No, no, I didn’t win the
SIT, SCAMPER. Will you please SIT?’ ‘Well, young sir — I can’t say that I’m used to seeing five-pound notes lying about,’ said Tolly, with a wide grin. ‘That looks as if it’s just come straight from the Mint, it’s so clean and new.’ ‘Anyway,’ said George, proudly, ‘it’s for paying the vet’s fees for Brownie. Or it could go towards buying him.’ ‘What’s all this about buying him?’ asked Tolly. ‘I’m having two pounds a week docked off my wages for five weeks — and then he’ll be mine. I said
legs. And, sir, we’ve come to pay the bill. You kindly said you would halve the fees, which is very good of you. So if you could tell us EXACTLY how much the bill is now, we thought we’d pay it, and then Tolly wouldn’t worry about it any more. We’ve got enough money, sir. We’ve all saved up — and George here, he won five pounds in an essay competition.’ ‘And he gave it towards your fees, sir, and towards buying a share in Brownie. We’re all going to share in Brownie,’ said Colin, his face
summer-house for a good long talk. ‘We have to decide straight away what we can do about Brownie,’ said Mr Tolly, anxiously. ‘He can’t go back to Mester Dinneford, sir, to the farm. He’d be worked and worked there, or shot, maybe, and he’s not as strong as he was. Have you examined his hind legs, sir? What did you think of them?’ ‘Well, it’s a toss-up, Tolly,’ said Peter’s father. ‘With careful, friendly handling Brownie might be as good as ever in six months’ time — but his hind legs are