Free Enid Blyton by MR. PINK-WHISTLE INTERFERES Page A

birthday—we know exactly what she wants—that big red shawl in the draper's. It's a lovely one."
    "I know. I've seen it," said Pink-Whistle.
    "Well, it costs a lot of money," said the boy. "But Katie and I have been doing all kinds of jobs to earn the money for it."
    "We ran errands and we delivered papers," said Katie, rubbing her eyes.
    "I helped the farmer to lift his potatoes," said the boy. "And that's hard work."
    "And I took Mrs. Brown's baby out each day for a week when she was ill," said Katie. "She gave me sixpence for that."
    "And I weeded old Mr. Kent's garden, and he gave me a shilling," said the boy. "We put it all into our money-box pig."
    "Oh, was your money-box in the shape of a pig?" asked Mr. Pink-Whistle. "I like that sort of money-box."
    "It was a tin pig, painted pink, and it had a slit in its back," said Katie. "And it had a little key hanging on its tail to unlock a sort of little door in its tummy. We got the money out of the little door when we wanted it."
    "The pig was so nice and full," said the boy. "It jingled when we shook it. We were sure we had nearly enough to buy the shawl, and it is Mother's birthday next week. But now all our money is gone!"
    "Where's it gone?" said Pink-Whistle, surprised.
    "Someone stole it," said Katie, her eyes filling with tears again. "We took it out here in the garden, meaning to count out the money. Then Mother called us in for our biscuits and we ran indoors, and when we came out the pig was gone, and all the money with it."
    "Somebody must have come by, looked over the wall, and seen the money-box pig," said the boy, sadly. "Now all our hard work is wasted—and we shall never get enough money to buy that shawl."
    "It really is a shame," said Mr. Pink-Whistle, getting quite red with anger. "It's not fair that someone should come along and take all the money you've worked hard to get. Perhaps I have got some for you. Wait a minute. Let me look in my pockets."
    But Pink-Whistle had only a penny and a ha'penny that day, so that wasn't much use. He rubbed one of his pointed ears and frowned. What could he do? He must do something!
    Someone called the children. "We must go," said Katie. "It's time for our dinner. Thank you for being so nice."
    The children ran off. Mr. Pink-Whistle went on down the lane, remembering the girl's tear-stained face and the boy's look of disappointment. What a shame to steal from children!
    "Well, I shall do something!" said Pink-Whistle, fiercely. "But I don't know what. It seems to me as if all I can do is to poke my nose into every house I see, and try to find that money-box pig!"
    So he made himself invisible, and began to peep into the windows of all the houses he passed. But he didn't see any money-box pig at all.
    He went on and on, peering into kitchens and sittingrooms, trying to discover a money-box pig—and at last he found one!
    It was standing on the mantelpiece of a neat little cottage, next to a ticking clock. There was a man in the room, reading. He looked smart and clean and neat—but Pink-Whistle didn't like his face.
    "Too clever!" thought Pink-Whistle. "Too sharp! He looks as if he would do people a bad turn if he could, and think himself clever to do it! And there's the money-box pig, standing on the mantelpiece. Can it be the pig the children had stolen from them? Surely this well-dressed man here wouldn't steal such a thing as a child's money-box. He looks quite well-off."
    Someone went up the path and knocked at the door. The man inside looked up, and got up quickly, took the money-box pig and put it under a cushion. Then Pink-Whistle knew he had stolen it. "Aha!" said the little man to himself, "aha! He wouldn't hide it if he hadn't stolen it. The mean fellow!"
    The man opened the door to his friend, and Pink-Whistle slipped in beside him. He was quite invisible, so no one knew he was there.
    "You're early," said the first man. "The others haven't arrived yet."
    "Oho!" thought Pink-Whistle, "so there is to be a