And, would you ever believe it if I didn't tell you? No, I'm sure you wouldn't. But, anyhow, all of a sudden, out from the bushes came a bad, fuzzy old wolf, and he stood in front of the bungalow, crying:
"I smell apple pies! I smell apple pies! Also a little piggie boy!
Oh, what a fine lunch I am going to have!"
Well, Flop was so frightened that he couldn't even walk, much less run, and all he could do was to squeal, "Oh dear!"
The pie lady heard him, and came running to the door of the bungalow.
"What is the matter?" she asked, and then she saw the wolf.
"Oh, my!" she exclaimed. "What shall I do?"
"Nothing!" exclaimed the wolf, sticking out his red tongue. "I'll do all that's necessary. But first I'll eat the apple pie, and then I'll carry you and Flop off to my den!"
Well, when Flop heard that—heard that the wolf was going to eat the lovely pie—he became real brave, that little piggie boy did.
"You shan't have that pie!" he cried.
Then the wolf, with a big jump, started for the bungalow to get the pie and the pie lady, but what do you think Flop did? He just grabbed up the pan of apple peelings—long, curling peelings they were—and he threw them at the wolf! Right at the bad creature's legs he threw them, and the apple peelings tangled up in the wolf's fur and in his tail, and his legs and paws, and head-over-heels he went, falling down on the ground and bumping his nose on a hard stone.