The Belles of St. Trinian's Page #6

I've never seen

such an... an exhibition of savagery!

I shall stop it at once!

I did warn her.

Wonderful!

I must congratulate you

on a thoroughly sterling performance.

Now Arabella, as Captain,

I am delighted to present you

with the Markham Challenge trophy.

Ah, a token presentation,

of course, Arabella,

as I shall be putting this

into safe custody.

All right! All right! I'll tell!

Let me off this thing!

Full astern, Maudie.

Bella and her gang

are going to steal Arab Boy.

Steal him?

The stableboy is helping them.

We can't let them get away with this.

If Arab Boy doesn't run, we'll lose money.

We'll have to hurry up.

Got the rope?

They'll miss me in a minute.

- Don't panic! Lie down!

- You've got your story?

Yes. Thugs. I never saw them before.

They tripped me with a wire.

- Got the mallet, Amanda?

- Mallet? What for?

We want to make it look good

for your sake.

- You're not going to hit me! No!

- Amanda's doing it.

- Oh, don't worry!

- Is he out?

Mm-hm. Yep. OK, Bella.

Be there in 20 minutes.

If it's stop press now,

it'll be headlines in the morning.

I'm nervous, Benny.

- We get 60,000 if it comes off.

- And three years if it doesn't.

- Do you have to make jokes like that?

- I wasn't joking.

I wish Sammy would ring!

It must have taken him a couple of hours

to get the horse to his place.

Sam, I told you

not to come near this office!

Something's gone wrong, gov. We went...

I've got a couple of tickets

on the eight o'clock plane to Paris!

We haven't got the horse! When we got

to the stables, it wasn't there.

That's right. We looked in the right box

and the other boxes. No such animal.

You didn't seen anything

when you were dragged from the horse?

I just caught a glimpse

of a man's mackintosh, sir.

I see. What kind of a mackintosh?

An old grey one, sir.

I don't remember any more.

All right. That'll do for now.

I shall want to see you again later.

- Bring in Fred Smith, Constable.

- Hey, Smith...

How long has that lad been with you?

About a year.

He handles the horses well enough.

What do you make of him, Doctor?

Nothing fake about the way he was

knocked out. Looked like a mallet blow.

He certainly didn't do it himself!

I just want

to ask you one question, Smith.

You were out on the downs at exercise

with Faning. See anyone around?

Well, nobody, sir.

Faning dropped back on Arab Boy.

When I looked around,

there was no sign of them or anyone else,

except a bunch of girls in the distance.

Out riding from some school

called St Trinian's.

Oh, no.

Sammy, it's me, but I was in bed.

'Course I'm working!

I'm in the sunny, Sammy.

Well, I got hit on the head with a mallet.

You, too? What happened?

At the hockey match.

Haven't you had my report?

I haven't had a line from you.

Look, I'm on a whale of a case.

A racehorse has been stolen.

The Sultan of Makyad's Arab Boy

entered for the Gold Cup tomorrow.

Some of the St Trinian's girls

were seen riding

near the spot

where the horse disappeared.

Find out what they were doing.

Oh, I say! How jolly pulse-throbbing!

I wonder what they're up to!

Yes, of course I'm going

to try and find out, Sammy.

No need to be so beastly.

I say, Sammy, I know this is

a frightfully important job,

you know, for you and for me.

If I sort of, well, you know, if I did

pull it off, could it be wedding bells?

If you don't, it'll be curtains!

Oh, Sammy.

You know, Albertina, if anyone

had said this would happen to me,

a jolly old school inspector strolling

with a smashing French mistress...

- You make me laugh, Robbie!

- Do I?

I suppose I do seem rather English to you

at times, Albertina, old scout.

Only funny English, Robby.

Yes, I'm sorry.

It's the Ministry of the Ed, you know.

It's difficult to get the blood pounding

uncontrollably after 14 years at a desk

with only the odd day trip to Boulogne

to give a chap a whiff

of the joie de vivre.

I love you for it, Robby.

By Jove! Do you really?

Well, come in here

and... have a Guinness.

- The drinks are over here.

- Aren't you going to turn on the lights?

- Oh. Do you want me to?

- Not if you don't want to.

I thought we might have a couple

of boissons dans le noir sur le sofa.

- Do you love me, Robby?

- Et comment!

- What was that?

- What was what?

Robbie!

Something's breathing down my neck!

By Jove! A horse!

In here! Ridiculous!

What the blazes is all this?

Psst! Old Woodley's coming

through the woods with Amanda.

Get that nag out. Is she gets her peepers

on it, Bella will know in a flash.

- But where are we going to take him.

- Never mind. Let's get him out first!

Don't say a word

to Amanda about this, will you?

- Why not?

- Because he's got to win tomorrow.

I don't get the hang of this.

Why should we keep quiet?

- Shall I fix him?

- OK, Flash.

What? But...

What... what are you doing?

Well, I'm hanged!

Hello? Mr Alf, the bookmaker?

This is Miss Fritton

of St Trinian's speaking.

I've just read in the paper that Arab Boy

has disappeared.

"Bad luck" is not the word for it, Mr Alf.

I was positively counting

on collecting 4,000 from you. Yes.

Well, know, look, Mr Alf,

if the horse doesn't turn up,

would you please be good enough

to return me my 400

to reach me by Friday morning?

You see, I... What?

I don't quite follow you, Mr Alf.

I don't get what back?

Now, please, please.

Don't be absurd, my good man.

If I go into a telephone booth

and make a call

and the horse or the person

I'm calling is not there,

well, I simply press button "B"

and I get...

Haven't you read our rules?

Rules? Rules?

But I'm not interested in your rules.

I want my money back!

Well, you better start looking

for the horse yourself.

Now, where do you expect me

to go looking for a horse?

Mr Alf?

Operator? Operator? Op...

May I speak to you, Miss Fritton?

- Not just now, Miss Crawley.

- I must!

- I beg your pardon?

- There's something I've got to ask you.

Could you tell me, please,

which girls went riding?

This is neither the place nor the time.

If you...

Why?

Some of the girls were on the downs

when a racehorse disappeared.

- Well?

- Well, they might have seen something.

And if they did?

I thought they might like

to help the police.

I mean, Guide's honour.

We're all Girl Guides, aren't we?

Are we? Some of us may have aspired

beyond that happy state, Miss Crawley.

The girls are in bed

and I'm not going to disturb them

to satisfy your morbid curiosity.

- Yes, but I-

- Will you return to what concerns you?

- But it does concern-

- Yes, Miss Crawley?

- Nothing, Miss Fritton.

- Hm.

Girls, girls, you know perfectly well

that pets are not allowed in dormitories

and under the same rule, Mr Harry,

I doubt if you should be here either.

Am I right in thinking

that this animal is Arab Boy?

- Yes, Miss Fritton.

- Harry...

Now, tell me the truth, Harry,

have you had anything to do with this?

- Me? Oh, lady!

- I'm glad, Harry.

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