Freddy and the Dragon (13 page)

“What happened?” Freddy asked.

“My gracious,” said Mrs. Church, “you should have seen it! This man comes tearing down the road on his horse, and Percy here charged him. Regular football tackle. Sent the horse into the ditch and knocked the rider thirty feet into the air. When he came down he was running, and we couldn't catch him in the dark under the trees. He got away.” She patted the bull on the shoulder. She didn't seem at all afraid of him. “That certainly was a fine tackle,” she said. “Didn't hurt him, either; didn't use your horns.”

“Wouldn't want to hurt an old comrade,” said Percy.

“You did, though,” said the horse in a weak voice. “I'm wounded.”

“Nonsense!” said Mrs. Church. “We've looked you all over, and there's not even a scratch.”

The horse made no effort to get up. “I think I sprained something,” he said in a weak voice.

“You sprained your luck, old boy,” said the bull. “Come on, get up. You going to take him down to the farm, Freddy?”

“Down to troop headquarters in Centerboro,” said the pig. “I promised to bring them the headless horseman's head, and now, by golly, I've got it.”

They all went to Centerboro. The troopers locked up the horse in the stable where Hank had been confined. Then they had Jinx tell his story. Freddy didn't go in because of the warrants out for his arrest. They looked the head and the cloak over and said “Yeah” and “Uh-huh,” but it was plain they didn't believe much of it. “Dragon, hey?” said Lieutenant Sparrow, and he laughed the roaring laugh which was so much like Percy's, except that the lieutenant got as red in the face as a tomato. They wouldn't even go out and look at the dragon.

“I was there,” said Uncle Ben. “All true.” But, of course, not being much of a talker, and also because he was an inventor who fooled around with atomic engines and such, the police weren't inclined to believe him either.

Mrs. Church and the sheriff, only having seen the second part of the horseman's flight, couldn't testify to what had happened at the cave.

“This man that came galloping down the road—you didn't know him?” the Lieutenant asked.

“Never saw him before,” they said. “A little man with a crooked nose and beady, black eyes.”

“That was Jack,” said Percy.

“Quiet, you!” shouted the Lieutenant. “Don't you realize, sheriff and ma'am, that he may be a perfectly innocent person, out for a ride in the cool of the evening?”

“Not at the rate they were going,” said the sheriff.

“They were scared blue,” said Mrs. Church.

The Lieutenant paid no attention. “And you deliberately set this bull on them,” he said. “I warn you, if this man complains, you may be in for serious trouble.”

“Phooey,” said the sheriff. “I'll bet sixty-four dollars and thirty cents against that box of paper clips that you'll never get a complaint.”

“Why sixty-four thirty?” asked the Lieutenant.

“Because that's all I've got in my pocket,” said the sheriff. “Give me a couple days and I'll make it five hundred.”

“We are not allowed to bet,” said the Lieutenant sourly.

“Lucky for you,” the sheriff replied. “You'd be out a box of clips.”

They argued for a while, and at last, at the insistence of the sheriff and Mrs. Church, the Lieutenant agreed to go up and make a more thorough search of the cave.

“In the morning,” he said.

“Why not now?” said Jinx. “It'll be just as dark in the cave in the morning. We have the map of it, so you can find your way.” And he explained that the map had been made by two spiders, Mr. and Mrs. Webb, who had explored the cave for them.

“Spiders!” and Lieutenant Sparrow went off into his great laugh again, and all the other troopers laughed with him. They roared and howled and slapped their thighs. “Spiders! He's got a map a spider made for him! How about it, Loot, you going to turn over the command to a spider?”

Mrs. Church drew herself up. “You're all very funny,” she said. “But I've paid a hundred dollars to this gangster to keep from having my windows smashed, and a lot of others have done the same. You've got evidence that he's been living in the cave. Sheriff, if Lieutenant Sparrow won't act, I suggest you swear in some deputies and look over that cave yourself.”

“Just what I was goin' to suggest, ma'am,” said the sheriff. “I've got twenty prisoners down at the jail now; they're all nice boys—most of 'em burglars, too, which are specially good at hunting around in the dark. I'll go back and swear 'em in and we'll go up and through that cave with a fine tooth comb.”

But Lieutenant Sparrow didn't like that idea. “No, no, sheriff,” he said, “there's half a dozen of our boys here all ready to go. No need to bother you. We'll start right away.” He got up. “Now you all go along to your homes and leave it all to us. We'll take care of it. And,” he added with a laugh, “I don't think we'll need any spider's advice either.”

CHAPTER 12

Freddy and Jinx spent that night at Mrs. Peppercorn's. After breakfast they sat on the front steps. They were talking about how they were going to get rid of Jack, but every time somebody went by, Freddy would scratch Jinx's ears and say: “Are you my good kitty-cat?” or something like that, and Jinx would growl and mutter that he'd like to get his claws into that long nose. But he didn't dare say anything out loud, because they had to pretend that Freddy was just a little boy playing with a cat.

Pretty soon a kitten came walking along the sidewalk. She stopped at the gate and looked up at Freddy and Jinx a minute, and then she turned in and walked straight up to them.

“Can you purr?” she asked the cat.

“Can I purr!” Jinx exclaimed. “I'm a cat, ain't I? What do you think I do—bellow?”

“Well, I'm a cat too, or will be when I grow up. But I can't purr. And I thought maybe you could show me how.”

“Why you just—you just purr, that's all. Like this.” And Jinx gave a specially loud purr. Freddy could feel the front steps under him vibrate.

“My gracious, I wish I could do that!” The kitten moved closer to Jinx. “You see, I belong to Mrs. Twitch, the cook at the hotel—Mr. Ollie Groper's hotel. She likes me to sit on her lap, but it makes her feel sad that I don't purr. I
want
to purr, but I just can't. Listen now—I'll try.”

Both animals put their ears close to the kitten, then shook their heads. “Can't hear a thing,” said Freddy.

“That's it,” said the kitten. “I try and try and nothing comes through. Do you suppose you could give me purring lessons?” she said, looking up hopefully at Jinx.

“Well …” said Jinx. “I don't know.… I'm not a very good teacher. And then maybe even if I was—maybe your purrer isn't any good. Besides, I'm pretty busy—”

“I could pay you,” said the kitten. “Not with mice, but—”

“Never touch the things,” said Jinx gruffly.

“I don't either,” said the kitten; “I'm afraid of them. But Mrs. Twitch is good to me; she gives me all the cream that's left in those little bottles they put on the tables with the coffee, and any leftovers. My goodness, yesterday she gave me a whole serving of creamed codfish—enough for five cats. So I could give you lots of good things to eat. Will you do it?”

Jinx licked his chops thoughtfully. “Well,” he said, “I can try. But I don't promise anything, you understand. You
did
say cream, didn't you?”

So it was arranged that he should go down to the hotel to give his first purring lesson that afternoon.

Freddy rode out to the farm on his bicycle. He didn't bother to hold the handkerchief up to his nose except when he passed someone he knew on the road. On the way across the barnyard he met the bull. Percy was not in the fenced-in enclosure behind the barn; he seemed to be free to roam at will. When he saw Freddy, he stopped and bowed.

“My dear sir,” he said, “what a pleasure! I trust you are having success in your detective work.”

“Not much,” said the pig. “We haven't caught your pal Jack yet.”

“Ah,” said the bull. “But you will, sir; you will. I have every confidence in your brilliant deductive powers. I have heard much of them in the past few days.”

“Why, thank you,” said Freddy, slightly overcome by this gracious speech from one who had been such a tough talker only a short time ago. He thought it might be a good idea to have Samuel Jackson become the conscience of several other animals in the neighborhood.

Percy nodded toward the cow barn. “My new residence,” he said. “Won't you step in for a moment? My daughters will be pleased to see you. After you, sir,” he added.

So Freddy did, and was greeted warmly by the cows. Mr. Pomeroy had stopped in earlier to report on the goings-on at the cave. The troopers weren't getting much of anywhere with their exploration. They had banged around and yelled and flashed their flashlights, but although two of them had come out in the morning for breakfast, the other four had not appeared. Voices could be heard shouting once in a while, but the echoes were so confusing that it was impossible to tell where the sounds came from. And the two that came out had not found any of the rooms occupied by the gangsters.

“I suppose they'll find their way out some time,” said Freddy. “Maybe they'll get into a shooting match with Jack. He must have gone back in there.”

“He'd have gone back for his money,” said Percy. “All those envelopes he's been collecting—he must have nearly a thousand dollars. But now that his headless disguise is discovered, and you've found his hideout, he'll probably head for home.”

“How about the others with him?” Mrs. Wiggins asked. “You said there was another horse and some pigs.”

“Yeah. Old Dutch—he's the horse, a mean old critter. And there's a dog, Cornelius, and three pigs—they're so tough and badly brought up I don't think they've even got any names. And there's Thurlow.”

“The weasel?”

“No,” said Percy, “he's a mink. And you go slow if you meet him. He's just plain vicious.”

“Well, if the troopers don't find them—” Freddy said, “and it looks as if they wouldn't—we can let the dragon go in after them. But I don't see what we can do now.”

So Freddy rode back to town. He got to Mrs. Peppercorn's just as Jinx was returning from giving his first purring lesson.

“Boy, that's a bright little tad, that kitten,” the cat said. “She's going to have a good rich purr that'd be a comfort to any cook she sits on the lap of. Can't hear it yet, of course, but you can feel the vibration if you put a paw on her throat.

“Say, you remember Ollie Groper, fellow that runs the hotel? Well, he recognized me when he came into the kitchen, and what do you suppose he said?”

“I
can imagine,” said Freddy with a grin. Mr. Groper loved long words, and he was known as a man who couldn't say: “How are you?” without putting in a dozen six-syllable words.

“Well, I memorized it,” said Jinx. “‘Well, if it isn't my ancient feline associate! What balmy Hesperidean zephyr has wafted you hither? And which of the many luxurious forms of nourishment which this caravansery offers its clientele may I be privileged to prepare for your delectation?' I didn't know whether to get mad or not.”

“I hope you didn't. He was just saying he was glad to see you and would you like something to eat.”

“Yeah?” said Jinx. “Well, he did pour me out a nice saucer of cream, so maybe he meant it. After I gave my lesson I went and sat in the lounge for a while. Nice big plush chairs they got. I like to watch the people. Gee whiz, they think cats are crazy.…” He shook his head. “There was one guy came in and registered—little guy with a limp. He had a suitcase and another bag, and the bag had holes in it—can you beat that. I don't mean it was torn or worn out or anything; the holes were in a pattern at each end. They—”

“Gimpy Jones!” said Freddy suddenly.

“Quit interruptin', will you?” said Jinx. “These holes—”

“They were so the snake could breathe,” said Freddy. “You remember, Percy told us about a friend of this Jack's called Gimpy Jones because he limped? And he had a black snake trained to go into windows and pick out jewelry? Well this must be the man.”

“And the snake was in the bag!”

“Sure. And that means more trouble for us. More burglaries, and probably you'll be arrested. Because cats can get in open windows and swipe things.”

Jinx jumped up. “What are we waiting for? The guy went up to his room and left his bags, and then came right down and got in his car and drove off. My guess is he's gone up to the cave to find this Jack. Now's our chance.”

Neither pigs nor cats are afraid of snakes, particularly the non-poisonous black snakes, which some people even keep as pets. The two friends hurried down to the hotel. There was no one in the office, and after a glance at the register where they found that Mr. Jones had been put in No. 17, they ran upstairs.