Mystery of the Invisible Thief by Enid Blyton

Author:Enid Blyton [Blyton, Enid]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2011-07-15T22:07:50+00:00

A Little Bit of Fun

Goon hadn’t the slightest idea that he was sitting next to Fatty. He looked through his dark glasses at the dirty old man. Could he be the thief? He tried to see his hands, but Fatty was still wearing the holey old gloves.

“Want some baccy?” said Goon, seeing that Fatty’s clay pipe was empty.

Fatty looked at him and then put his hand behind his ear.

“Want some baccy?” said Goon a little more loudly.

Still Fatty held his hand behind his ear and looked enquiringly at Goon, sucking at his dirty old pipe, and squinting horribly.

“WANT SOME BACCY?” roared Goon.

“Oh, ah - yes - I’ve got a bad back-ache,” answered Fatty. “Oooh, my back-ache. Somethink crool, it is.”

“I said, WANT SOME BACCY?” yelled Goon again.

“I heard you the first time,” said Fatty, with dignity. “I’m having treatment for it at the hospital. And for me pore old feet too.”

He gave a long, wheezy cough and rubbed the back of his hand over his nose.

“You’ve got big feet!” said Goon loudly.

“Oh, ah - it’s a nice sunny seat,” agreed the old tramp. “I allus sits here of a mornin’.”

“I said you’ve got BIG FEET,” shouted Goon.

“You’re right. Not enough meat these days,” said the tramp, and coughed again. “’Taint right. Meat’s good for you.”

Goon gave it up. “Silly old man,” he said in his ordinary voice, thinking that the tramp was absolutely stone deaf. Most surprisingly the old fellow heard him.

“Here! Who are you calling a silly old man?” said the tramp fiercely. “I heard you! Yes, I did! Think I was deaf, didn’t you? But I heard you!”

“Now now - don’t be silly,” said Goon, alarmed at the disturbance the tramp was making. “Be calm.”

“Harm! Yes, I’ll harm you!” said the tramp, and actually raised his stick. Goon retreated hurriedly to the other end of the bench and debated with himself. This old chap couldn’t be the thief. He was deaf, his feet were bad, and he had back-ache. But where had he got those boots? It might be as well to follow him home and find out where he lived. It was no good asking him, that was plain. He’d only make some silly reply. So Goon took out his own pipe and proceeded to fill it, and to wait until the old tramp moved off.

Fatty was also waiting for Goon to move off, because he wanted to see if the policeman had discovered who or where Rods was. So there they both sat, one sucking an empty pipe, the other pulling at a lighted one. The smoke from it almost choked poor Fatty.

And then he saw Larry, Daisy, Bets and Pip coming down the street! Thank goodness they hadn’t got Buster, who would certainly have smelt out Fatty at once and greeted him with joy. Buster was safely locked up in the shed, and was no doubt still scraping hopefully at the door.

Fatty sank his chin down on his chest, hoping that none of the four would recognize him.

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