He was awfully good. I loved him."
A teacher called loudly, "Irene! Donald! What are you keeping
us waiting for? Come along at once."
The car-park emptied. Fatty looked round. "Now," he
said, "come on I The coast is clear. We'll all go and look at these
posters here, and talk to one another—and then when we are sure no one is
watching us, I'll slip up to the verandah and drop the clues."
It was most annoying, however, because one or two people kept
coming to the car-park, and for some reason or other walked across it. Fatty
finally discovered that it was a short cut to a cigarette shop in the next
street.
"Blow!" he said. "We'll have to hang about till it
shuts. It's sure to shut soon."
It was boring having to wait so long, and talk endlessly about the
posters. But at last the shop apparently did shut and nobody else took the
short cut across the car-park. It was now getting dark. Fatty slipped up the
three steps to the verandah.
He threw down the clues—cigarette-ends and matches—torn hanky with
Z on—pencil-shavings—page torn from a time-table with one Sunday train
underlined—and a bit of navy-blue cloth which he jabbed hard on a nail.
He turned to go—but before he went he took a look in at the window
near by. And what a shock Fatty got!
P.C. Pippin on the Job.
A very
large, furry animal was inside the window, looking mournfully up at him—or so
it seemed. The eyes were big and glassy, and gave Fatty the creeps. He recoiled
back from the window, and almost fell down the verandah steps.
"What's up?" asked Larry, surprised.
"There's something queer up there," said Fatty.
"Horrible big animal, looking out of the window at me. I could just see it
in the faint reflection cast by that street-lamp outside the car-park."
Bets gave a little squeal. "Don't! I'm frightened!"
"Idiot, Fatty! It must be the cat-skin of Dick Whittington's
cat," said Larry, after a moment. Every one felt most relieved.
"Well—I suppose it was," said Fatty, feeling very
foolish. "I never thought of that. The thing looked so lifelike, though. I
don't think it was just a skin. I think the actor who plays the cat must
have still be in inside it."
"Gracious. Does he live in it, then?" said Daisy.
"Let's go and see if it's still there, looking out of the window."
"I don't want to," said Bets at once.
"I don't think I do either, really," said Daisy.
"We'll go."
said Larry. "Come on. Fatty, come on, Pip."
The three boys stepped quietly up the verandah steps, and looked
in at the window. The cat was no longer there, but as they stood watching, they
saw it come in at the door of the room and run across on all fours to the
fireplace. An electric fire was burning, and the boys could distinctly see the
cat pretending to wash its face, rubbing its ears with its paws, in exactly the
same way as a cat does.
"There it is!" said Fatty, "he's seen us! That's
why it's acting up like this. It thinks we're children who came to see the
show, and it's still pretending to be Dick Whittington's Cat. Gracious—it gave
me a start when I first saw it at the window."
"Meeow," said the cat, loudly, turning towards the
window, and waving a paw.
"I somehow don't like it." said Pip. "I don't know
why. But I just don't. I know it's only somebody inside the skin, but it looks
a jolly sight too real for me. Let's go!"
They went back to the girls. It was not quite dark, and the church
clock struck seven o'clock at they went to fetch their bicycles from the
stands.
"Well—we've planted the clues," said Fatty, feeling more
cheerful as he undid Buster from where he had tied him to the stand. "I
say. Buster, old chap—good thing you didn't spot that cat. You'd have thought
you were seeing things—a cat as big as that!"
"Woof," said Buster, dolefully. He didn't like being
left out of the fun. and he knew something exciting had been happening. He was
lifted into Fatty's basket, and then the five cycled slowly home.
"I wonder when Pippin will go along," said
Michelle Fox, Gwen Knight
Antonio Centeno, Geoffrey Cubbage, Anthony Tan, Ted Slampyak