Pip did. He had a fiery red face, black, fierce eyebrows, the awful jutting-out teeth, and the straight-haired wig. He borrowed a red scarf from Daisy, put on his mackintosh inside out, and then felt himself sufficiently disguised.
Goon always goes down the village and round the corner at half-past eleven,” said Larry. “There won’t be any one much about today, it’s such an awful day, and there’s a fog coming on. Wait round the corner for him, and then ask him the time or something.”
“Please, sir, what’s the time?” said Pip, in an astonishingly deep, hoarse voice. Every one laughed.
“That’s fine,” said Larry. “Well, off you go, and come back quickly and tell us what happened.”
Pip set off. Down in the village it was foggy. He could hardly see more than a yard in front of him. He waited about at the corner, listening for Clear-Orf’s heavy feet. Some one came unexpectedly round the corner, walking quietly and lightly.
Pip jumped - but the other person jumped much more! The sight of Pip’s fiery face, fierce eyebrows, and awful teeth made old Miss Frost scream.
“Oh! Help! Who is it?” she squealed, and turning back, she raced down the village street. She bumped into old Clear-Orf.
“There’s a horrible person round the corner,” she panted. “Awful red face and great eyebrows - and the wickedest teeth I ever saw - sort of hanging out of his mouth!”
The mention of sticking-out teeth reminded Mr. Goon of the French boy, and he wondered if it was he who was hanging about round corners. So, trying to walk as lightly as he could, he tiptoed to the corner and went round it very suddenly.
Pip was there! Mr. Goon was on him almost before he could move. The policeman stared in amazement at the boy’s fiery face, the absurd eyebrows, and the familiar jutting-out teeth.