Free Enid Blyton by Mr Pink-Whistle's Party Page A

bicycles, don't you? Hold out your hand!"
    Peter didn't want to, but his hand held itself out—and then the other hand held itself out, too. Whack, whack, whack,—how that whippy little cane enjoyed itself! But Peter didn't. Like all bullies, he was a coward, and he howled loudly.
    "There— that will do you a lot of good," said Mr. Whack. "Leave the bicycle. I'll see that it's returned to its owner. Go over that stile, and you'll see the way home."
    Peter went off, still howling. He .climbed over the stile and went across the field. When he came to the other side he found, to his great astonishment, that he was in the lane that led to his home. He simply couldn't understand it.
    He didn't take anyone's bicycle the next day. His hands smarted too much to hold bicycle handles! But the day after he took Geraldine's!

    He raced out of the school gates on it, laughing to think of the little girl's anger and dismay when she found it was gone.
    And will you believe it, the bicycle took him to the same sign-post as before!
    There it stood, its four fingers pointing to MR. WHACK, HARD WORK
    VILLAGE, THE DRAGON, and THE CROSSPATCH WITCH. Peter stared in horror.
    How had he come here again? He couldn't imagine! Well, he wasn't going to Mr. Whack this time, that was certain. But he didn't want to go to Hard Work Village either—or to the Dragon or the Witch.
    He decided to take the road that led to the Dragon. "It can't possibly be a real dragon", said Peter to himself. "There aren't any dragons now. It must be a hotel called the 'Dragon.' I'll ask there for my way home."
    But, you know, it was a real dragon! As Peter rode on round the corner, he saw a gate right across the road, and beside it was a cave. He got off his bicycle to open the gate—and suddenly out of the cave came a dragon.
    He looked very like the one that St. George fought long ago, but he had remarkably kind eyes.
    "Wait!" he called, in a roaring voice. "Are you good or bad?"
    "What do you mean?" said Peter. "And who are you? I don't believe in dragons. You're just somebody dressed up!"
    "I'm not," said the dragon. "Ah—now I know you. You're Peter, the boy who takes bicycles, aren't you?"
    Peter began to feel as if he was in a bad dream. "No. I don't take bicycles,"
    he said, quickly. "Let me go through this gate, please, whoever you are."
    "I can't," said the dragon. "Not until I've fought you."
    "What do you mean! I don't fight dragons!" said Peter, scared.
    "Well, you see, I'm a good dragon," said the dragon, "so I fight bad things and bad people. Bad dragons fight good people. You're bad, so I must fight you.
    Look out for yourself!"
    And the dragon ran at poor Peter, who turned and fled for his life! The dragon sat down and laughed. He was rather disappointed, too. He really was a very good and kind creature, and hadn't had a fight for years, but sometimes he felt he would like to hit out at something bad.
    Peter fled down the road and came to a little wood. He saw a path there and raced down it, afraid that the dragon might be following him. And quite suddenly he came to a part he knew—how strange! Why, just down there and round to the left and he would come to a road he knew quite well! 

    PETER GOT OFF HIS BICYCLE TO OPEN THE GATE.
    HOW had he managed to get to that queer sign-post again?
    Peter was very, very puzzled when he got home. What a horrid adventure! Why did the bicycles keep taking him to that sign-post instead of to his home? Was there a spell on him? He didn't believe in spells, but certainly something peculiar was about.
    He remembered that little Geraldine had said she was going to ask Mr. Pink-Whistle for help. Well, he didn't believe in any Pink-Whistles either. But suppose—just suppose Geraldine had gone to him, wasn't this just the kind of thing that Pink-Whistle would do?
    Peter went out into the garden to think. Should he ask Geraldine if she had found Mr. Pink-Whistle? No, she wouldn't tell him anyway.
    "Oh, I wish I knew what