Free Horrid Henry and the Mummy's Curse by Francesca Simon Page B

Gizmo out of his hand. He was Hurricane Henry uprooting everything in his path.

    “Hellllllllp!” howled Peter.
    “Stop being horrid, Henry, or no more Gizmos for you!” shouted Mom. “Now clean up this mess and get dressed.”
    “NO!” howled Henry. He ran upstairs to his room, slamming the door behind him.
    He had to have a gold Gizmo. He simply had to. No one at school had a gold one. Henry could see himself now, the center of attention, everyone pushing and shoving just to get a look at his gold Gizmo. Henry could charge 50¢ a peek. Everyone would want to see it and to hold it. Henry would be invited to every birthday party. Instead, Peter would be the star attraction. Henry gnashed his teeth just thinking about it.
    But how could he get one? You couldn’t buy Gizmos. You could only get them inside Sweet Tweet cereal boxes. Mom was so mean she made Henry and Peter finish the old box before she’d buy a new one. Henry had eaten mountains of Sweet Tweet cereal to collect all his Gizmos. All that hard work would be in vain, unless he got a gold one.
    He could, of course, steal Peter’s. But Peter would be sure to notice, and Henry would be the chief suspect.
    He could swap. Yes! He would offer Peter
two
greens! That was generous. In fact, that was really generous. But Peter hated doing swaps. For some reason he always thought Henry was trying to cheat him.
    And then suddenly Henry had a brilliant, spectacular idea. True, it did involve a little tiny teensy weensy bit of trickery, but Henry’s cause was just.
He’d
been collecting Gizmos far longer than Peter had. He deserved a gold one, and Peter didn’t.
    “So, you got a gold Gizmo,” said Henry, popping into Peter’s room. “I’m really sorry.”
    Perfect Peter looked up from polishing his Gizmos. “Why?” he said suspiciously. “
Everyone
wants a gold Gizmo.”
    Horrid Henry looked sadly at Perfect Peter. “Not anymore. They’re very unlucky, you know. Every single person who’s got one has died horribly.”
    Perfect Peter stared at Henry, then at his golden Gizmo.
    “That’s not true, Henry.”
    “Yes it is.”
    “No it isn’t.”
    Horrid Henry walked slowly around Peter’s room. Every so often he made a little note in a notebook.
    “Marbles, check. Three knights, check. Nature kit—nah. Coin collection, check.”
    “What are you doing?” said Peter.
    “Just looking at your stuff to see what I want when you’re gone.”
    “Stop it!” said Peter. “You just made that up about gold Gizmos—didn’t you?”
    “No,” said Henry. “It’s in all the newspapers. There was the boy out walking his dog who fell into a pit of molten lava.

    There was the girl who drowned in the toilet, and then that poor boy who—”

    “I don’t want to die,” said Perfect Peter. He looked pale. “What am I going to do?”
    Henry paused. “There’s nothing you can do. Once you’ve got it you’re sunk.”
    Peter jumped up.
    “I’ll throw it away!”
    “That wouldn’t work,” said Henry.
    “You’d still be jinxed. There’s only one way out—”
    “What?” said Perfect Peter.
    “If you give the gold away to someone brave enough to take it, then the jinx passes to them.”
    “But no one will take it from me!” wailed Peter.
    “Tell you what,” said Henry. “I’ll take the risk.”
    “Are you sure?” said Peter.
    “Of course,” said Horrid Henry. “You’re my brother. You’d risk your life for me.”
    “OK,” said Peter. He handed Henry the gold Gizmo. “Thank you, Henry. You’re the best brother in the world.”
    “I know,” said Horrid Henry.
    He actually had his very own gold Gizmo in his hand. It was his, fair and square. He couldn’t wait to see Moody Margaret’s face when he waved it in front of her. And Rude Ralph. He would be green with envy.
    Then Perfect Peter burst into tears and ran downstairs.
    “Mom!” he wailed. “Henry’s going to die! And it’s all my fault.”
    “What?” screeched Mom.
    Uh