Henry and Beezus (5 page)

Henry didn't answer. He was too busy trying to hang onto Ribsy without looking as if he were holding him. Ribsy strained toward the Grumbies' paper. Henry turnedthe dog's head in the opposite direction, but the minute he let go, Ribsy whimpered and tried to get at the paper.

“What's the matter with that dog, anyway?” asked Scooter. “Why don't you let him go?”

“He doesn't want to go,” said Henry. “Do you, Ribsy?”

Ribsy whimpered and struggled to get out of Henry's arms. Henry couldn't see why Scooter had to hang around so long, anyway. Why couldn't he go home?

Henry tried not to look at the paper on the Grumbies' front steps, but it was all he could think about. Then the Grumbies' front door opened, and Mr. Grumbie, wearing his bathrobe and slippers, walked sleepily out on the porch, picked up the paper, and went into the house again.

Ribsy relaxed and Henry let go of him. Whew! That was close. Henry looked anxiously up and down the street to see if he could see any other papers. Instead he saw Beezus and her little sister Ramona.

The two girls stopped in front of Henry's house. Beezus had a handful of waxed paper. Ramona had a red plastic water pistol. She looked at Scooter, aimed, and shot a stream of water into his face. “You're dead,” she announced.

“I am not, and you cut that out.” Scooter wiped his face with his sleeve.

“Ramona, stop that or I'll have to take the pistol away from you,” ordered Beezus. “Henry, come on over to the park with us. I've got a bunch of bread wrappers to sit on when we slide on the slides.”

“OK,” said Henry promptly, more because he wanted to get away from Scooter than because he wanted to go to the park. Still, it was a long time since he had waxed the slides by sitting on a bread wrapper. “Here, Ribsy,” he called.

Ribsy bounded out of the shrubbery with his license tag jingling. In his mouth was a
Shopping News
, yellow with age, which he dropped at Henry's feet. Henry didn't have the courage to look at Scooter. Ribsy bounded into the bushes and came out with another old paper. Then he stood wagging his tail and looking at Henry.

“I thought so, Henry Huggins,” said Scooter accusingly. “I thought you knew something about my papers disappearing.”

“Well, maybe…” Henry didn't know what to say. Now he really was in trouble. A stream of water from Ramona's pistol hit him in the eyes. “Aw, cut it out,” he said, wiping his face. As if he didn't have enough trouble without a little kid shooting him with a water pistol!

“I bet you trained that mutt of yours to steal papers.” Scooter was really angry. “I suppose you're going to let him steal my papers all the time and make me lose my route.”

“No, he won't,” promised Henry. “I'll untrain him…”

“You better untrain him,” interrupted Scooter angrily. “And I'm going to find somebody else to take my route while I'm gone, too. I have enough trouble with papers getting in the mud and stuff, without having your old mutt going around stealing them.”

“You got the papers delivered again this morning before anybody complained, didn't you?” asked Henry.

“Yes, because I started extra early in the first place, that's why. But what about tomorrow, when I have to deliver them after school?”

That was just what Henry had been asking himself. What about tomorrow? He had to think of something fast if he didn't want to lose a dollar from his bike fund. “I'll tell you what, Scooter. You make me a list of your customers and I'll deliver the papers tomorrow night free of charge. And if I do it right and Ribsy doesn't take any, I get to deliver the papers while you're gone. How about it?” Henry waited anxiously for Scooter's answer.

“That's fair,” said Beezus.

Scooter scowled and thought over Henry's offer. “OK,” he said at last. “Maybe that way you'll be sure to untrain him.”

“It's a deal,” said Henry. Now all he had to do was figure out how to keep Ribsy from stealing papers.

Scooter started home and then turned back. “But just you remember, if you make me lose my route, I'll, I'll…Well, I'll do something.”

While the two boys were arguing, Robert had joined the group in the front yard. “Scooter is pretty mad, isn't he?” he asked. “I'm glad I'm not in your shoes.”

“Yeah.” Henry looked at the papers at his feet. “Jeepers, how am I going to get Ribsy untrained by tomorrow afternoon? Nothing I try works.”

“It's easy,” said Robert. “You've got to make him afraid of what he steals. Hit him with a paper a few times and he'll get the idea.”

“I'll try,” said Henry, “but I bet it won't work with Ribsy.”

“Don't hit him too hard,” begged Beezus.

Ribsy came trotting across the lawn with an old paper in his mouth. When he dropped it at Henry's feet, Henry picked it up and rapped him on the head with it. He didn't hit hard enough to hurt, but just hard enough so he would get the idea. Ribsy was delighted. He growled a pretended growl and grabbed the paper. Henry hung on and so did Ribsy. Wagging his tail, the dog growled and tugged. Henry managed to yank the paper away.

This time he hit Ribsy harder. Ribsy gave a joyful bark and sprang at the paper. He snatched it from Henry and worried it. Then he settled down to chew it to pieces.

“See what I mean?” said Henry. It was bad enough to have a dog that stole papers, but it was worse to have one that chewed them to bits. Henry could see Klickitat Street strewn with chewed-up
Journals
and he tried to picture what Scooter would do. Whatever it was, he didn't like to think about it.

After school the next day Henry joined Ribsy, who was waiting under the fir tree, and ran home with his dog as fast as he could. Then he changed into his after-school clothes, fixed himself some bread and peanut butter, and, after shutting Ribsy in his room, went out on the front porch to wait for Scooter.

In a few minutes Robert joined him. “Thought of anything yet?” he asked.

“No,” admitted Henry. “I shut Ribsy in the house, but he won't stay there long.”

Ribsy appeared at the window with his front feet on the sill. He whimpered and scratched at the glass with one paw.

“Go away,” ordered Henry.

Ribsy ran to the front door, where Henry could hear him scratching on the wood. Then Mrs. Huggins opened the door and said, “Henry, you'll just have to keep this dog outdoors with you.”

“OK, Mom,” answered Henry, looking at Robert. “See what I mean?”

Then Beezus and her little sister Ramona joined the boys on the steps. Ramona promptly shot Robert with her water pistol. “You're dead!” she shouted.

Robert wiped his face with his sleeve. “I am not dead. I can't be dead if I'm not playing, can I?”

Then Scooter appeared, lugging a bundle of newspapers which he threw down on the walk in front of Henry's house. He handed Henry a list of addresses. “Be sure you remember about Mrs. Green's flower boxes,” he said. “And I better not get any complaints about missing papers tonight or any other night.”

“You won't,” said Henry, but he didn't sound very sure about it.

Ramona fired a shot at the departing Scooter. Beezus said, “Come on, we'll help you.”

Keeping a wary eye on Ramona's water pistol, the other three began to roll newspapers. Henry was so busy watching the pistol that he forgot to watch Ribsy. Before he knew it, the dog had snatched a paper and had begun to worry it to pieces.

“Ribsy!” yelled Henry. “Drop that!”

Ribsy shook the paper harder. Henry grabbed one end of the paper. Ribsy hung on.

Then Ramona raised her water pistol and aimed. A stream of water hit Ribsy in the face. “You're dead!” shouted Ramona, and Ribsy dropped the paper. Looking puzzled, he backed away and shook himself.

“Hey! Did you see that?” Henry jumped up and tripped over the papers in his excitement. “Ribsy dropped the paper! Ramona made him drop the paper. Do it again, Ramona.”

“No,” said Ramona.

“Aw, come on,” coaxed Henry. “Beezus, make her shoot Ribsy again. This has just got to work.”

“No,” said Ramona.

Scooter came riding down the street on his bicycle. “You started delivering my papers yet?” he asked.

“In a minute,” said Henry. “You just wait. Everything's going to be all right.”

“It better be.” Scooter looked threatening as he rode away. “And you better get going,” he yelled back.

Henry ran into the house and found his own plastic water pistol. After loading it at the kitchen sink, he ran outdoors and threw a paper at Ribsy. When the dog picked it up, Henry let him have a stream of water right in the face. Ribsy dropped the paper and backed away. Looking puzzled and embarrassed, he shook himself.

“It works!” shouted Henry. “It really works! I'm going to get Ribsy untrained after all.” He ran into the house again and filled his army-surplus canteen with water, in case he needed to reload his pistol.

Beezus and Robert had the papers rolled and stuffed into the canvas bag, which Henry now lifted over his head. The
Journals
were heavier than he expected. “Come on,” he said. “Let's go.”

By then Beezus had succeeded in getting the water pistol away from Ramona. “I'll help you keep Ribsy covered,” she said.

Henry threw a
Journal
onto the lawn of the first house on the list. Ribsy bounded after the paper, but the minute he opened his mouth to pick it up, Henry and Beezus shot him with two streams of water. Looking surprised and unhappy, Ribsy backed away from the paper and shook himself. The next time Henry threw a paper, Ribsy approached it cautiously. The instant he touched it, Beezus and Henry opened fire. This time Beezus shot from the hip.

“You're dead!” shrieked Ramona. Ribsy decided he wasn't interested in the paper after all.

The third time Henry threw a paper, Ribsy ignored it. He was too busy sniffing a bush even to look at it.

“Good dog,” said Henry, bending over to pet him. The weight of the papers in the canvas bag nearly tipped him over.

Ribsy wagged his tail. “Good old Ribsy,” said Henry proudly. Ribsy was untrained at last.

When the children returned after delivering all the papers without a single mistake, they found Scooter waiting on the front steps. “How many did your mutt run off with?” he wanted to know.

“He isn't a mutt and he didn't run off with any,” boasted Henry. “He wouldn't touch a paper. See?” Henry tossed his own copy of the
Journal
onto the grass. Ribsy looked the other way.

“I guess I did a pretty good job of delivering papers,” bragged Henry. “You won't get any complaints tonight.”

“That's right,” agreed Beezus. “I checked every address on the list with him just to make sure.”

Scooter threw one leg over his bicycle.

“And I get to deliver papers while you're away, don't I?” Henry was thinking of his bike fund again, now that Ribsy was untrained.

“Sure,” said Scooter, “if you don't think it's too hard work for a kid without a bike.”

“You just wait,” said Henry. “I bet I get that bike sooner than you think.”

“Ha,” said Scooter, pedaling down the street.

“You're dead!” shrieked Ramona, squirting her pistol with deadly accuracy.

O
ne Friday after school Henry was fixing himself a snack of bread, peanut butter, and strawberry jam when the doorbell rang.

“Come in, Beezus,” he heard his mother say.

As Henry went into the living room, he held up his bread and licked the jam that had run down his wrist. Beezus and her little sister Ramona each held a gnawed cabbage core. They had stopped eating because they were too polite to eat in front of people.

Beezus handed Henry a newspaper clipping. “I thought maybe you'd like to see this.”

“Bikes for Tykes,” was the headline. “Lost Bicycles up for Sale Tomorrow.”

“Hey, maybe you've got something.” Henry read faster.

“Enough bicycles—some hundred or more—have been found by the police this past year to equip half a company of soldiers, and tomorrow at ten
A.M
. they go up for auction at the Glenwood police station.”

This was Henry's chance. “Hey, Mom, look! Isn't an auction where somebody holds up something and everybody says how much he'll pay for it and the one who says the most gets it?”

“Yes, it is,” answered Mrs. Huggins, as she read the clipping.

“Boy! I've got four dollars and fourteen cents saved. I bet I can get a bike for that much.” Henry pictured a hundred soldiers riding by on bicycles—and one of those bicycles was meant for him. He'd show old Scooter yet.

Mrs. Huggins looked doubtful. “I wouldn't be too sure,” she advised. “After all, there must be some reason why the bicycles haven't been claimed. If you lost a bicycle you'd try to get it back, wouldn't you?”

“Yes,” agreed Henry, who was sure most of the bicycles belonged to rich boys who had so many bikes they didn't miss one when they lost it. “But I can go, can't I, Mom?”

“Yes, it won't hurt to try,” said Mrs. Huggins, “but don't be too disappointed if you don't get a bicycle.”

“And I can go with you, can't I?” asked Beezus eagerly.

“Well…” Henry didn't want to bother with Beezus. He wanted to go early and look the bicycles over. If he could get a good one, he would ride it in the Rose Festival parade in a couple of weeks and really show it off.

“Of course you may go, Beezus,” said Mrs. Huggins. “Henry will be glad to take you.”

“Isn't it pretty far for Ramona to walk?” asked Henry. “It's about ten blocks. Long blocks, too.”

“Oh, no. Ramona never gets tired,” said Beezus. “Daddy says he wishes sometimes she would, but she never does. Come on, Ramona. See you in the morning, Henry.” Gnawing on their cabbage cores, the girls left.

“Aw, Mom,” said Henry, “why did you have to go and say they could come with me? I don't want to drag a couple of girls around all morning.”

“Now, Henry,” said his mother firmly, “Beezus was nice enough to come and tell you about the auction, and it won't hurt you to let her go with you.”

“Oh, all right,” muttered Henry.

“Why, Henry, you and Beezus used to play together so nicely. Don't you like her any more?”

“She's all right, I guess. She's just a girl, is all,” said Henry, thinking of the shiny red bicycle he was going to buy the next day. Maybe Beezus would forget to come.

But Beezus did not forget. The next morning after breakfast Henry found the two girls sitting on the front steps waiting for him. When Henry and Ribsy came out of the house, Beezus started down the walk. Ramona stood still until Beezus went back and made a winding motion behind her little sister. Then Ramona walked along beside her.

“She's pretending she has to be wound up like a toy before she can walk, and I forgot to wind her,” explained Beezus.

Henry groaned. Girls thought of the dumbest things. He tried to keep ahead of them so people wouldn't think they were walking together. Ribsy trotted beside him.

“Henry Huggins, you wait for us!” said Beezus. “Your mother said we could go with you and if you don't wait I'll tell on you.”

“Well, come on then,” answered Henry crossly, anxious for a glimpse of that red bicycle before anyone else got there.

Suddenly Ramona stopped. Beezus wound her up again and they went on. “She ran down,” explained Beezus.

Girls! Henry was disgusted. It seemed to him that it had taken half the morning to go three blocks. He saw a couple of other boys walking in the same direction, and he wondered if they were going to the auction, too. He began to walk faster.

Then Henry saw Mrs. Wisser, a friend of his mother's, coming toward him. The sight of three more boys coming along on the other side of the street made Henry hope she wouldn't stop him long.

“Well, if it isn't Henry Huggins,” she exclaimed. “And Beatrice.”

“Hello, Mrs. Wisser,” said Henry and Beezus politely.

“My, Henry, how you have grown! And you're getting to look more like your father every day. I was telling your mother only yesterday that every time I see you, you look more like your father.”

Another boy hurried down the street. Was every boy in town going to the auction? Henry smiled as politely as he could at Mrs. Wisser and looked uneasily in the direction of the police station. The best bikes would be gone, he was sure, by the time he got there. Maybe he could find an older bike that just needed a little paint or something. He had plenty of time before the parade to fix it up. He tried not to show how impatient he felt.

“Don't you think he looks more like his father every day?” asked Mrs. Wisser of Beezus.

“Yes, I guess he does,” said Beezus. She had also noticed the boys going in the direction of the police station, but she felt she should say something. “Especially the way his hair sticks up,” she added.

Henry gave her a disgusted look.

“And is this Ribsy?” asked Mrs. Wisser. “Nice doggie.”

Ribsy sat down and scratched. Thump, thump, thump went his hind leg on the sidewalk.

“And this must be Ramona. How are you, sweetheart?”

Ramona was silent.

“What a pretty dress you're wearing,” said Mrs. Wisser. “And it has a pocket, too. Do you have something in your pocket?”

“Yes,” said Ramona.

“Isn't she sweet?” said Mrs. Wisser to Beezus. “What do you have in your little pocket, dear?”

Ramona poked her fist into her pocket and pulled out a fat slimy garden slug, which she held out to Mrs. Wisser.

“Oh,” gasped Mrs. Wisser. “Oh!”

“Ramona, throw that thing away,” ordered Beezus.

Henry couldn't help grinning, Mrs. Wisser looked so horrified.

“Well…I must be running along,” said Mrs. Wisser.

“Good-bye, Mrs. Wisser,” said Beezus and Henry. Ramona put her slug back in her pocket, Beezus wound her up again, and they went on.

Until they reached the Glenwood shopping district, Henry almost thought girls were good for something after all. Then Ramona stopped in front of the supermarket. “I'm hungry,” she announced.

“Come on, Ramona,” coaxed Beezus. “We're in a hurry.”

“I'm hungry,” repeated Ramona.

Henry groaned. He knew they couldn't go any farther until Ramona had something to eat. That was the kind of little girl she was.

“I have a quarter,” said Beezus. “I better get her something.”

“OK,” agreed Henry reluctantly. “I could stand something myself.” Then Henry noticed a sign on the door of the market. It said, “No dogs allowed in food stores.”

“Lie down, Ribsy,” he ordered, as he went through the swinging door.

On the next swing of the door Ribsy came in, too. “Sorry, sonny,” said a clerk. “You'll have to take your dog outside.”

“Beat it,” said Henry to his dog. Ribsy sat down. “Come on, you old dog,” said Henry, seizing his pet by the collar and dragging him out onto the sidewalk.

Henry hurried back into the market and was trying to decide between a bag of Cheezy Chips and a box of Fig Newtons when the clerk said, “Say, sonny, I thought I told you to get that dog out of here.”

Once more Henry dragged Ribsy out. This time he dug into his pocket and pulled out a piece of heavy twine. He tied one end to Ribsy's collar and fastened the other end securely to a parking meter. “Now don't you chew the twine,” he said, before he went back into the store. He chose the Cheezy Chips and stood impatiently behind Beezus in line at the cashier's counter.

Finally they were out on the sidewalk again, where they found Ribsy busy chewing the twine. Beezus had to stop and find several lions in the animal-cracker box she had bought, because Ramona wanted to eat all the lions first. Henry felt it was pretty useless to try to go any place with a couple of girls. But maybe he would get there in time to find a bike in fairly good condition with just a few spokes missing.

“Hey, Henry!” It was Robert calling.

Henry, who was trying to untie Ribsy from the parking meter, saw Scooter pedaling his bicycle slowly down the sidewalk while Robert jogged along at his side.

“Bet you're going to the bike sale,” said Scooter. “We're going just to watch.”

“What's that paper under Ribsy's collar?” asked Robert.

“What paper?” said Henry. Sure enough, there
was
a paper under Ribsy's collar. Henry pulled it out and unfolded it as the other children crowded around.

Scooter was first to understand. He shouted with laughter. “It's a parking ticket. Ribsy got a parking ticket!”

The children all laughed. “Don't be dumb,” said Henry. “Everybody knows dogs don't get parking tickets.”

“Sure it's a ticket,” said Scooter. “See, it says ‘Notice of traffic violation' across the top, and
violation
means he's done something wrong, doesn't it?”

“Did you put a penny in the meter?” asked Robert.

“That's right. Did you put a penny in the meter when you parked your dog?” laughed Scooter.

“I didn't know leaving a dog on the sidewalk counted as parking,” said Henry, looking at the meter. “See! The red thing doesn't show and there's still sixteen minutes left from whoever put the money in before.”

“Maybe there was a car here and Ribsy got a ticket for double parking,” said Scooter, guffawing again.

Beezus handed Ramona another lion. “That's all the lions. You'll have to eat camels now.” Then she said to Henry, “Maybe it was a mistake.”

“How could it be a mistake?” asked Scooter. “It was under Ribsy's collar, wasn't it?” He looked at the ticket again. “See, it says here that you have violated a code. The policeman has written the number of the law you broke. I know, because my dad explained it to me once when he got a ticket. Maybe you have to put in more money to park dogs.”

“Maybe they'll put Ribsy in jail,” suggested Robert.

“No they won't,” said Henry. “You never heard of them putting a car in jail, did you? This is the same thing.”

“That's right,” agreed Scooter, and laughed. “Maybe they'll put you in jail.”

“What do you suppose they'll do, Henry?” asked Beezus anxiously.

“I don't know. I guess I'll have to pay a fine.” Henry stuffed the ticket in his pocket.

“My dad knows a man who knows the mayor,” said Robert. “Maybe he could do something about it.”

“No, I'll have to take it out of my bike money,” said Henry. “Say, Scoot, how much did your dad pay when he got the ticket?”

“A dollar, I think,” said Scooter. “No, I guess it was two.”

There went at least a dollar from Henry's bike fund. Maybe two. Two dollars plus a dime for Cheezy Chips. Take that from four dollars and fourteen cents and he had two dollars and four cents left for a bike—that is, if he ever got to the auction and if there were any bikes left when he did get there. Maybe he could get a good sturdy frame and pick up a couple of wheels some place.

“You could ask at the police station,” suggested Beezus.

Why hadn't he thought of that before? “Hey, kids, let's go,” said Henry. He didn't have to untie the twine. Ribsy had chewed it in two.

Scooter pedaled slowly and the others ran along beside him. Even Ramona ran. Eating all the lions out of the animal-cracker box made her forget she had to be wound up.

Henry worried about the ticket. What was wrong with leaving Ribsy outside the supermarket? He couldn't take him in, so he had to leave him out, didn't he? And if he didn't tie him, he wouldn't stay out, would he? It must be a mistake. It had to be. If only he could get to the station and find out before the auction.

“Wow!” exclaimed Henry, when they finally turned a corner and came to the Glenwood police station. The steps of the building swarmed with children. The driveway beside the station was crammed with boys and girls, and grown-ups, and dogs, too. Other children perched on the fence between the driveway and the apartment house on the other side. More children were getting out of the cars that jammed the streets.