Freddy and the Perilous Adventure (8 page)

Chapter 8

When he came to the right hand road that led to South Pharisee and the circus, Freddy passed it without even turning his head. For if he turned his head, he knew he would turn the rest of himself, and then there he would be, marching right down towards the merry-go-round and the Ferris wheel and the clowns and the peanuts and all his friends—I mustn't think about it, he said to himself. Duty is duty, he said. And he twirled his stick and went on across the valley.

Early in the afternoon he came out of the woods into Mr. Bean's upper pasture. There was the duck pond, where usually Alice and Emma were to be seen sitting side by side, like two marshmallows on a mirror. There was the familiar house, with Mrs. Bean shaking a tablecloth out of the kitchen window, and there was Jinx, the cat, walking across the barnyard. It was Jinx he particularly wanted to see, and he started to wave one of his white gloves to attract the cat's attention when he stopped suddenly and crouched down. For off to the right, sitting under an apple tree in the meadow above the barnyard, were two state troopers.

Freddy began to wish that he had followed the sheriff's advice and gone to South Pharisee. Of course, if he had really stolen the balloon, as the sheriff had apparently thought, it would have been good advice to follow. But he wasn't trying to escape from justice. On the other hand, he wasn't going to let the police catch him if he could help it. And he had to see Jinx. He took off his hat and wiped his forehead with the white glove and tried to think of something.

Now Freddy had a good deal of imagination, and people like that are apt to think up so many ways of doing a thing that they can't decide among them, and then they don't do anything. But he was also a pig of action, and so he discarded all the ideas that meant sitting around and waiting, and decided on the one that meant doing something right away. He scraped up some of last year's hay and tucked it into his sleeves and his neck and under his hat, then when the troopers were looking the other way he walked out into the pasture. And when they turned towards him again, what they saw in the pasture was a scarecrow, standing with his arms stretched stiffly out, and with wisps of straw stuffing sticking out here and there.

As soon as they turned their heads away, Freddy moved a little way down towards the barnyard, and then stood still when they looked in his direction again; and he kept on doing this until he had almost reached the fence which separated the pasture from the next field. He had only to cross this field, and he would reach the fence that ran around the barnyard, and he was pretty sure he could sneak along behind the fence and get into the barn without being seen.

But all at once one of the troopers jumped up and, shading his eyes with his hand, stared hard in his direction. “That scarecrow has moved from where he was a minute ago, Bill,” he said.

“Don't be silly, Wes,” said Bill. “A scarecrow can't move.”

“Well, this one has. First he was up by the woods, now he's almost down to that fence.”

Bill got up. “Maybe somebody moved him,” he said. “What's the difference! We're looking for a pig, not a scarecrow.”

“Sure we are. But it's our duty to investigate anything peculiar, and I guess we'll never see anything peculiarer than a walking scarecrow. Because maybe it ain't a scarecrow after all.”

“Peculiarer?” said Bill. “That ain't a word.”

They began arguing about it, while Freddy stood motionless. His arms ached so it didn't seem as if he could hold them up another minute, and the hay in his coat collar and under his hat made him itch in seven different places, but he couldn't scratch them. He was just getting ready to bolt back to the woods if the troopers started towards him, when a woodpecker came flying across the pasture. Freddy said in a sharp whisper: “Hey! Sanford!”

The woodpecker looked around, banked sharply, and lit on the pig's shoulder. “For Pete's sake, Freddy, what are you doing out here in this get-up?”

“Trying to get to the barn without the police catching me. But I guess it won't work, and if I have to run for it, tell Jinx to meet me at the edge of the woods after dark, will you?”

“Sure,” said Sanford. “But do you think they've spotted you?”

“I'm afraid so. But wait a minute—listen!” Wes was saying: “But it can't be alive, I tell you. Do you suppose that bird would be sitting on it if it were alive?”

“Guess I saved you, Freddy,” said Sanford. “Maybe we'd better make sure. Suppose I drill a couple holes in your hat, hey? That'll clinch it.”

“It'll clinch me,” said Freddy, with a nervous glance at the woodpecker's sharp beak. “No, no; this hat's pretty thin. I tell you what you can do, though,” he added, as the troopers sat down again under their tree; “go tell the animals. Maybe they can think of some way of getting rid of those men.”

Nothing happened for ten minutes, and they were the longest ten minutes in Freddy's life. His arms were getting numb now, and didn't hurt quite so much, but he had to watch them so they wouldn't just drop down all by themselves. In addition to the seven itches mentioned above, there were several new ones, and a fly had lighted on his nose. Freddy twitched his nose violently, but the fly just laughed and hung on. Then he walked slowly up the nose, dragging his feet.

Freddy knew that fly. His name was Zero, and at one time they had had a good deal of trouble with him around the farm, until they had got a wasp named George to discipline him. After that Zero had kept away from the barnyard, and Freddy hadn't seen him in some time.

At first Freddy asked Zero politely to get off his nose. The fly pretended not to hear him. Then Freddy ordered him off. Zero walked down to the end of the nose and looked all around. “Strange!” he said to himself. “I could have sworn I heard somebody speak!”

“Zero!” Freddy hissed. “Quit that tickling, will you? This isn't any time for your silly jokes.”

“That certainly is queer,” said Zero, and he began walking over Freddy's face, pretending to look for the voice. “I heard it, just as plain as plain. Must be somewhere.” He looked in Freddy's eye, and in his ear, and he crawled up under the edge of the hat, and at last he walked down and peered up one of Freddy's nostrils. But this time he had overstepped, for at that precise moment Freddy's self-control gave way in one tremendous sneeze. It blew Zero twenty feet in the air and sprained three of his legs and one wing, and he dropped into the grass and lay there senseless for quite a long time.

Fortunately the men hadn't noticed the sneeze. They were looking rather doubtfully at three cows who were coming slowly towards them from the barnyard. The cows were Freddy's friends, and their names were Mrs. Wiggins and Mrs. Wurzburger and Mrs. Wogus. They came along slowly, pulling a bite of grass here and a sprig of clover there. They paid no attention to the troopers. They came up under the tree. And first Mrs. Wiggins stepped on Bill's hat, and then Mrs. Wurzburger swung her tail around and hit Wes in the eye, and then Mrs. Wogus nudged Bill aside with her big broad nose to get at a patch of grass. The troopers picked up their hats and jammed them on their heads, and hitched back towards the tree.

“Cows,” said Wes. “Do they ever attack people?”

“What do you call this?” said Bill, crawling around behind the tree.

“I dunno,” said Wes, crawling after him. “But I don't like it.”

Mrs. Wiggins and Mrs. Wogus came around the left side of the tree, and Mrs. Wurzburger came around the right side, and they lowered their heads and stared at the men.

“They got nice kind eyes,” said Wes.

“Yeah?” said Bill. “They got nice long horns, too. Hey!” he exclaimed. “Go on away, you—you animals, you. Shoo!”

But the cows came closer. Mrs. Wiggins gave a kind of deep muttering in her throat, and then Mrs. Wurzburger and Mrs. Wogus shook their horns threateningly.

Bill got up. “I'm getting out of here,” he said, and started down towards the farmhouse.

“Maybe you're right,” said Wes, and followed him.

They walked slowly at first, and the three cows walked slowly after them, and then they went faster, and the cows went faster, and then they were running with the cows galloping after them. The cows roared ferociously as they galloped—at least it seemed ferocious to the troopers, although really the cows were just laughing. And when the troopers had jumped on their motorcycles and disappeared up the Centerboro road, they lay down in the grass and laughed until Mrs. Bean came to the back door.

“Shame on you,” she said severely; “scaring those nice young men away! And stop that racket. Mr. Bean is taking his nap.”

So the cows got up and went off to the cow barn, where they found Freddy.

Freddy sat on the floor, fanning himself with one of the white gloves. He looked pretty done up, but he brightened when the cows came in. “How on earth,” he said, “did you ever manage to scare those policemen away?”

“Land sakes!” said Mrs. Wiggins, “we knew they'd be afraid of us. You see, Freddy, if they'd been brought up in the country, they'd have known right away that no farmer would ever put up a scarecrow in a pasture. Scarecrows belong in cornfields. There's no sense in scaring crows out of a pasture, because there's nothing for them to steal. So we knew they didn't know anything about farm life, and we figured they'd probably be afraid of cows.”

“Well, I call that pretty clever of you,” said Freddy.

The cows looked down, and said “Thank you,” bashfully. They weren't used to being praised, which I think is rather a pity, because cows are just as smart as other animals, only in a different way. But people seldom praise them to their faces—I don't know why.

“But, Freddy,” said Mrs. Wiggins, “had you ought to be here? Mr. Bean is pretty mad at you for stealing that balloon.”

“But I didn't steal it,” said Freddy. “My goodness, all you animals are my friends, and yet you always seem ready to believe the worst of me.” So he told them what had happened. “And,” he said, “I want to get Jinx to go over to see Mr. Golcher and explain to him. I can't do it, because he's mad at me, and as soon as he sees me he'll call the police. But if Jinx can tell him everything, and where the balloon is, then everything will be all right, and he'll call off the police.”

“It would be better if you could get the balloon back to him yourself, wouldn't it?” said Mrs. Wogus. “I mean, if you really brought it back, then nobody could say you stole it.”

“That's what I'd like to do. But—” He broke off. “What's all that noise?” he asked. For there was a lot of shouting and laughter going on over by the stable.

“Oh, it's those mice, I guess,” said Mrs. Wurzburger. “Ever since they heard about the balloon ascension they've been crazy to fly, and they got Mrs. Bean to make them some little parachutes, and they've spent all their time jumping off the roof.” She laughed. “Cousin Augustus was so excited about it that the first jump he made he forgot the parachute. But a mouse is so light that he can jump off a roof anyway without getting hurt much. I guess it just knocked the wind out of him.”

“Sssssh!” whispered Mrs. Wogus. “Somebody coming.”

Freddy went to the door and peered out. “Oh, gosh!” he said. For Mr. Golcher had just got out of a car at the gate and was coming towards the house.

Chapter 9

Mr. Bean, whose nap had been cut short by the laughter of the cows, came out the kitchen door just as Mr. Golcher started across the barnyard. Freddy saw the two meet and stand for a moment talking, and then Mr. Golcher handed Mr. Bean a cigar, and Mr. Bean smelt of it and put it in his pocket, and they went around and sat down on the front porch. Freddy hadn't heard anything they said, and ordinarily he was too polite to listen to conversation that wasn't intended for him, but he felt that this occasion was too important to let politeness interfere. So he went around the other side of the house, and crawled up through the shrubbery until he was close enough to listen.