Enid Blyton Read Online Free PDF

this dark shed and go home and find some work to do. Perhaps I can put things right for you."
    He walked out of the shed. Robin ran after him, suddenly very cheerful indeed. He was amazed. To think that Mr. Pink-Whistle should have come along just then—what a wonderful thing!
    Pink-Whistle went back home. He called Sooty, his cat, and told her about Robin. "Go to the farm and speak to the farm cats," he said. "They will have noticed these two men and have seen if Buddy was taken away by them. Find out all you can."
    Sooty ran off, tail in air. She soon came back with news. "Yes, Master! The farm cats say that the men came back that evening, threw down meat for Buddy and then went away. Buddy ate it and fell asleep.
    Then the men came back and put him into a sack. They had a wagon drawn by a horse called Rip, who told the cats that his masters went to Ringdown Market every Thursday. You will find them there."
    "Thank you, Sooty," said Pink-Whistle. "That's all I want to know."
    The next day was Thursday. Pink-Whistle set off to Ringdown Market. It was a long way away, but he got there at last. What a babel of sound there was! Horses whinnying, sheep baaing, hens clucking, ducks quacking, turkeys gobbling, geese hissing and cackling!
    Pink-Whistle looked for a golden spaniel. There were three for sale at the market. Which was Robin's? Mr. Pink-Whistle decided to make himself invisible. This was a gift he sometimes used, and he used it now!
    One moment there was a kindly little man walking about—the next moment he wasn't there at all! An old woman selling eggs was most astonished. She blinked her eyes in wonder and then forgot about it. Pink-Whistle went up to a golden spaniel. "Buddy!" he whispered. "Buddy!"
    The dog took no notice. So that one wasn't Robin's dog. Pink-Whistle went up to the second spaniel and whispered. But he wasn't Robin's dog either.
    "Buddy!" whispered Pink-Whistle to the third spaniel, who was lying miserably on some sacks behind two men selling hens. "Buddy!"
    The dog sprang up at once, his tail wagging. He looked all round.
    Who had called him by his name? One of the men turned round sharply.
    "Lie down, you!" he said, and kicked him. Pink-Whistle felt very angry indeed. Ah! These fellows wanted punishing. They wanted frightening. Well, he would have a fine game and give them a wonderful punishment.
    He began to bark like a dog and Buddy pricked up his ears at once.
    Then Pink-Whistle pretended that Buddy was speaking.
    "Hens, peck these men!" he cried; And then it seemed to the men as if a whole flock of invisible hens were all round them, pecking hard —but really, of course, it was Mr. Pink-Whistle jabbing at them with his hard little forefinger—peck-peck-peck!
    The men cowered back, squealing. Everyone came to see what the matter was. Pink-Whistle began to cluck and that made the men think there really were invisible hens pecking at them.
    Then Pink-Whistle called out again in a barking sort of voice, so that it seemed as if Buddy was talking: "Geese, attack these men!"
    And dear me, what a cackling there was from old Pink-Whistle then, what a hissing—and what a jab-jab-jabbing from top to bottom of the scared men. Everyone stared, amazed. WHAT was happening? Where did the cackling and hissing come from? Who was jabbing at the men?
    "Serves them right," said somebody. "I never did like those two."
    And then, oh dear, Pink-Whistle decided to be a butting goat! What fun he was having—and what a wonderful punishment he was giving the two men!
    "Goat, butt them!" he cried, and the men looked everywhere, scared, wondering if an invisible goat was coming at them.
    Biff! Pink-Whistle ran first at one man and then at another. Biff!
    Bang! Biff! The men felt exactly as though a big, rather solid goat was butting them back and front. Pink-Whistle butted one man right over and he rolled on top of Buddy. Buddy promptly snapped at him and growled.
    Pink-Whistle immediately growled, too, and talked in