Enid Blyton Read Online Free PDF Page A

rather dark and he couldn't see anything at first. Then he saw something white,
    "Dear me!" said Pink-Whistle. "Is that a face I see? Does it belong to someone? Who are you?"
    The face was peeping out of a pile of hay in the corner. It spoke.
    "Yes, but please go away. This is my shed. It's private."
    Pink-Whistle didn't go away. He was sure that he could see that the face was very miserable. He came right into the shed.
    Somebody scrambled out of the hay, crossly. It was a boy of about ten. "I told you this was my shed," he said. "It's on my father's land and he said I could have it for my own. You're trespassing!"
    "Was it you I heard sniff-sniff-sniffing?" asked Pink-Whistle.
    "What's the matter?"
    "Nothing," said the boy. "Nothing to do with you anyway. Don't you know when people want to be alone? I wish you'd get out of my shed."
    "I'm going," said Pink-Whistle. "But it's a pity you haven't even a dog to keep you company. If you're unhappy, it's nice to have a dog's nose on your knee."
    He walked to the door. "Come back," said the boy suddenly, in a shaky sort of voice. "I like what you said just now. You might understand if I tell you something. You wouldn't have said that if you hadn't understood what friends dogs are, would you?"
    "No," said Pink-Whistle, turning back. "So it's something to do with a dog, is it? Your own dog, I suppose."
    "Yes," said the boy, sitting down on the hay and rubbing a very dirty hand over his face. "You see, I've got no brothers or sisters, so my Dad gave me a dog for my own. My very own, you understand— not one that's shared by the whole family. Buddy was my own, every whisker of him, every hair."
    "That's a fine thing," said Pink-Whistle. "I expect that you belonged to him as much as he belonged to you. You were his friend as much as he was yours."
    "I'm glad you understand," said the boy. "It's nice to tell somebody.
    Well, Buddy's gone. Somebody's stolen him. He was a golden spaniel with big, loving eyes, and he cost my father a lot of money. That's why he's been stolen, because he was valuable."
    Sniff-snirf-sniff! The boy rubbed his hand over his eyes again. "I'm ten," he said, ashamed, "and too old to make a fuss like this, like a four-year-old. I know all that, so you needn't tell me. But a dog sort of gets right into your heart if he's your own."
    "I shall begin to sniff, too, in a minute!" said Pink-Whistle. "I know exactly what you feel. You're thinking how miserable your dog will be without you and you're hoping that nobody is being cruel to him, and you're wondering if he's cowering down in some corner, puzzled and frightened. Well, that's enough to make anyone feel miserable."

    " WHY—SURELY YOU'RE NOT MR. PINK-WHISTLE ? " SAID THE BOY.
    "He disappeared yesterday," said the boy. "Two men came to the farm to ask if they could buy chickens—and I'm sure they took Buddy away. They may have given him some meat with a sleeping-powder in it and got him like that. I don't know. The police say they can't trace the men and they haven't had any report of a golden spaniel anywhere."
    "I see," said Pink-Whistle. "Er—do you happen to know me by any chance, boy?"
    "My name's Robin," said the boy. "No—I don't know you. I've never ever seen you before, have I?"
    He peered closely at Pink-Whistle. The sun shone in at the little shed window just then and he suddenly saw Pink-Whistle clearly. He saw his green eyes and pointed ears, and he gave a little cry.
    "Wait! Wait! Yes, I've seen your picture somewhere in a magazine or a book. Yes, I remember now. Why—surely you're not Mr. Pink-Whistle?"
    "I am," said Pink-Whistle, beaming all over his face, pleased that the boy knew him. "And I like to go about the world putting wrong things right."
    "Get back Buddy for me then, please, PLEASE!" said Robin, clutching hold of Mr. Pink-Whistle's arm. "I never thought you were real, but you are. Can you get back Buddy?"
    "I'll do my best," said Pink-Whistle. 'I’ll go now. Cheer up, get out of