Horrid Henry and the Scary Sitter (7 page)

“NAH NAH NE NAH NAH!” screeched a voice from outside.

Susan and Margaret dashed out of the Secret Club tent. They were too late. There was Henry, prancing off, waving the Secret Club banner he’d stolen.

“Give that back, Henry!” screamed Margaret.

“Make me!” said Henry.

Susan chased him. Henry darted.

Margaret chased him. Henry dodged.

“Come and get me!” taunted Henry.

“All right,” said Margaret. She walked toward him, then suddenly jumped over the wall into Henry’s garden and ran to the Purple Hand fort.

“Hey, get away from there!” shouted Henry, chasing after her. Where was that useless guard when you needed him?

Margaret nabbed Henry’s skull and crossbones flag and darted off.

The two leaders faced each other.

“Gimme my flag!” ordered Henry.

“Gimme my flag!” ordered Margaret.

“You first,” said Henry.

“
You
first,” said Margaret.

Neither moved.

“OK, at the count of three we’ll throw them to each other,” said Margaret. One, two, three—throw!”

Margaret held on to Henry’s flag.

Henry held on to Margaret’s flag.

Several moments passed.

“Cheater,” said Margaret.

“Cheater,” said Henry.

“I don’t know about you, but I have important spying work to get on with,” said Margaret.

“So?” said Henry. “Get on with it. No one’s stopping you.”

“Drop my flag, Henry,” said Margaret.

“No,” said Henry.

“Fine,” said Margaret.

“Susan! Bring me the scissors.” Susan ran off.

“Peter!” shouted Henry. “Worm! Lord Worm! Lord High Worm!”

Peter stuck his head out of the upstairs window.

“Peter! Get the scissors! Quick!” ordered Henry.

“No,” said Peter. “You fired me, remember?” And he slammed the window shut.

“You’re dead, Peter,” shouted Henry.

Sour Susan came back with the scissors and gave them to Margaret. Margaret held the scissors to Henry’s flag. Henry didn’t budge. She wouldn’t dare—

Snip!

Aaargh! Moody Margaret cut off a corner of Henry’s flag. She held the scissors poised to make another cut.

Horrid Henry had spent hours painting his beautiful flag. He knew when he was beat.

“Stop!” shrieked Henry.

He dropped Margaret’s flag. Margaret dropped his flag. Slowly, they inched toward each other, then dashed to grab their own flag.

“Truce?” said Moody Margaret, beaming.

“Truce,” said Horrid Henry, scowling.

I’ll get her for this, thought Horrid Henry. No one touches my flag and lives.

Horrid Henry watched and waited until it was dark and he heard the plinkyplonk sound of Moody Margaret practicing her piano.

The coast was clear. Horrid Henry sneaked outside, jumped over the wall and darted inside the Secret Club Tent.

Swoop! He swept up the Secret Club pencils and secret code book.

Snatch! He snaffled the Secret Club stool.

Grab! He bagged the Secret Club cookie tin.

Was that everything?

No!

Scoop! He snatched the Secret Club motto (“Down with boys”).

Pounce! He stole the Secret Club carpet.

Horrid Henry looked around. The Secret Club tent was bare.

Except for—

Henry considered. Should he?

Yes!

Whisk! The Secret Club tent collapsed.

Henry gathered it into his arms with the rest of his spoils.

Huffing and puffing, gasping and panting, Horrid Henry staggered off over the wall, laden with the Secret Club.

Raiding was hot, heavy work, but a pirate had to do his duty. Wouldn’t all this booty look great decorating his fort? A rug on the floor, an extra cookie tin, a repainted motto—“Down with girls”— yes, the Purple Hand Fort would have to be renamed the Purple Hand Palace.

Speaking of which, where was the Purple Hand Fort?

Horrid Henry looked around wildly for the fort entrance.

It was gone.

He searched for the Purple Hand throne.

It was gone.

And the Purple Hand cookie tin— GONE!

There was a rustling sound in the shadows. Horrid Henry turned and saw a strange sight.

There was the Purple Hand Fort leaning against the shed.

What?!

Suddenly the fort started moving. Slowly, jerkily, the fort wobbled across the lawn toward the wall on its four new stumpy legs.

Horrid Henry was livid. How dare someone try to steal his fort! This was an outrage. What was the world coming to, when people just sneaked into your garden and made off with your fort? Well, no way!

Horrid Henry let out a pirate roar.

“RAAAAAAAA!” roared Horrid Henry. “AHHHHHHH!” shrieked the Fort. CRASH!

The Purple Hand Fort fell to the ground. The raiders ran off, squabbling.

“I told you to hurry, you lazy lump!”

“You’re the lazy lump!”

Victory!

Horrid Henry climbed to the top of his fort and grabbed his banner. Waving it proudly, he chanted his victory chant:

NAH NAH NE NAH NAH!