Mystery of the Pantomime Cat by Enid Blyton

Anyway—I'd like to pay Goon back for
some of the beastly things he said to me."
    "Hear, hear—very human and natural of you," said Fatty,
agreeing heartily. "Well now, Pippin, I'll lay my cards on the table—and
you can lay yours there as well. I'll tell you all I know, and you can tell me
all you know."
    "What do you know?" said Pippin, curiously.
    "Well—I and the other four were round at the back of the
Little Theatre from about half-past five last night till seven," said
Fatty. "Just snooping about you know—looking at the posters and
things."
    "Oh, you were, were you?" said Pippin, sitting up and
taking notice. "Did you see anything interesting?"
    "I looked in at the window at the back of that
verandah," said Fatty. "And I saw the Pantomime Cat there—at least, I
feel sure that's what it must have been. It was like a huge furry cat. It came
to the
    window and stared at me—gave me an awful scare. I saw it in the
reflected light of the street lamp. Then when Larry and Pip and I looked in
later we saw it sitting by the fire, pretending to wash itself like cats do. It
waved its paw at us."
    Pippin was listening very earnestly indeed. "This is most
interesting," he said. "You know—there doesn't appear to have been
any one at all in the Little Theatre when the robbery was committed—except the
Pantomime Cat! Goon wants to arrest him. He's sure he doped the manager and
robbed the safe. Would you believe it—the Pantomime Cat!"
    Pippin's Story-and a Meeting.
    Fatty's brains began to work at top speed. "Go on," he
said. "Tell me all you know. What time were you there, Mr. Pippin—what did
you see—how did you discover the robbery and everything? My goodness, how lucky
you were to be on the spot!"
    "Well, actually I was after two rogues I'd seen under a bush
the other night," said Pippin, and Fatty had the grace to blush, though
Pippin didn't notice it. "I thought they might be meeting at the back of
the Little Theatre, and I was hiding there. I got there at half-past eight, and
when I looked into the room at the back of the verandah—where you saw the Cat—I
saw him too. He was lying fast asleep by the fire. Funny to wear a cat-skin so
long, isn't it?"
    "Yes. Must be a queer fellow," said Fatty.
    "Well—he is queer—queer in the head," said
Pippin. "I saw him this morning, without his cat-skin. He's not very big,
except for his head. He's about
    twenty-four, they say, but he's never grown up, really. Like a
child the way he walks and acts. They call him Boysie."
    "I suppose he got dropped when he was a baby," said
Fatty, remembering stories he had heard. "Babies like that don't develop
properly, do they? Go on, Mr. Pippin. This is thrilling."
    "Well, I saw the Cat asleep by the fire as T said," went
on Pippin. "Then, when the clock struck nine I reckoned I'd better hide
myself. So I climbed up through a hole in the verandah roof and sat on the
window-sill of the room above, waiting. And I heard groans."
    "Go on," said Fatty, as Pippin paused, remembering.
"Gosh, weren't you lucky to be there!"
    "Well, I shone my torch into the room and saw the manager
lying stretched out on his desk, and the empty safe in the wall behind
him," said Pippin. "And I smashed the window and got in. The manager
was already coming round. He was doped with some drug. I reckon it had been put
into his cup of tea. The safe was quite empty, of course. It's being examined
for fingerprints—I got an expert on the job at once—and the cup is being
examined for drugs—just a strong sleeping-draught, I expect."
    "Who brought the manager the cup of tea—did he say?"
asked Fatty, with interest.
    "Yes—the Pantomime Cat!" said Pippin. "Seems pretty
suspicious, doesn't it? But if you talk to Boysie—the Cat—you can't help
thinking he'd got nothing to do with the whole thing—he's too silly—he wouldn't
have the brains to put a sleeping-draught into a cup of tea, and he certainly
wouldn't know where the safe was—or where to get the