Free Mystery of the Invisible Thief by Enid Blyton Page B

with everyone’s house in it, and the name or number.”
    “You’re talking good sense,” said Fatty, sounding pleased. “Anyone got an idea for finding a person with enormous feet? Apart from examining the feet of everyone we meet, I mean. I’ve rather ruled that out - it would be frightful to look at nothing but feet, feet, feet all day long wherever we go.”
    Bets giggled. “And even if we find someone with colossal feet we can’t very well stop them and say, ‘Excuse me, may I see the pattern of the rubber heels you’re wearing?’ ”
    “No, we can’t,” said Pip. “But I say - I tell you what we could do - I’ve just thought of it. It’s a brain-wave!”
    “What?” asked everyone together.
    Pip dropped his voice. One or two people in the shop seemed rather too interested in what they were all saying, he thought.
    “Why can’t we go to the cobbler’s - there is only one in Peterswood now the other fellow’s gone - and ask if he ever has any size twelve boots in for repair, and if so, whose are they?”
    There was a little silence after this remarkable suggestion. Then Fatty solemnly reached out and shook hands with Pip.
    “First-class!” he said. “Brilliant! Talk about a brain-wave! Go up top, Pip. That really may lead us somewhere!”
     
    Fatty, the Cobbler - and Goon
     
    The next day they set to work to follow out the suggestions made at the tea-shop. Daisy and Larry said they would look up the street directory and read down every single street to see if there was a house name beginning with Rod or Rods.
    Pip and Bets were to look in the telephone directory for names. Fatty was to go to the cobbler’s. Nobody particularly wanted to do that, because they couldn’t think how to go about it without making the cobbler think they were either mad or silly.
    “I’ll manage it,” said Fatty. “I’ll think of a way. And for goodness sake don’t get taken in again by any disguise of Goon’s - he’s been studying hard, I can see, on his referesher course, and goodness knows what he’ll produce next.”
    “I shall just look at his feet,” said Bets, “and if they’re enormous I’ll know they belong to Goon!”
    Fatty considered carefully how to approach the cobbler. He was known to be a hot-tempered man who would stand no nonsense at all. He would have to go to him with a sensible idea of some sort. But what?
    Fatty remembered an old secondhand shop he had once seen in Sheepridge. He tried to remember if they sold boots. Yes, he had an idea they did. In that case it would be a good idea to catch the bus to Sheepridge, look in the secondhand shop and buy the biggest pair there - they would presumably want mending, and he could take them to the cobbler. Fatty felt certain that with that opening he could soon find out if the cobbler had any customers with really enormous feet.
    “Then I’ll get their names, and see if any of them might be the thief,” he thought. So off he went to catch the bus to Sheepridge. He found the secondhand shop, and, feeling as if he wanted to hold his nose because of the musty, dusty smell, he went inside.
    There was a special box for boots and shoes. Fatty turned them all over, and at the bottom he found what he wanted - a pair of elevens, down at heel and with a slit in one side.
    He bought them and went off with them pleased. He caught the bus back to Peterswood and went home. He debated whether or not to disguise himself, and then decided that he would, just for practice.
    He went down to his shed and looked round at his things. An old tramp? He was rather good at that. Yes - that wouldn’t be a bad idea at all - he could wear the frightful old boots too! They would make him limp but what did that matter? It would look all the more natural.
    Fatty began to work deftly and quickly. He hoped his mother wouldn’t come and look for him. She would be scared to see a dirty old tramp in the shed. After about half an hour the door opened, and the tramp came out and peered round cautiously.
    He looked dreadful. Fatty