Frognapped Read Online Free PDF Page B

trying to be funny or what?” he snapped. “Got bit by a turtle, if you really want to know.”
    I could see I was gaining his trust, so I went in with what is called a leading question. “Frogs can give you a nasty bite too, can’tthey?” I said, very sympathetically. “Are you sure it wasn’t a frog?”
    It was an important moment. I stared at Old Morris, waiting for the giveaway guilty look, but I couldn’t see it. He had a strange expression on his face—it reminded me of the one Aunt Tabby has when she gets really upset but tries not to show it.
    But I waited patiently and did not stop staring in case I missed a flicker of guilt. Old Morris was about to say something—and I was sure all would be revealed—when my dim-witted sidekick piped up, “What’s in your bucket?”
    Now that was really stupid. It gave the whole game away.
    â€œNone of your business,” Old Morris growled. “If you want to see what’s in thebucket you get your mom or dad or whoever is in this pile of junk here to buy a ticket this afternoon. Got that? Now scram . Pesky kids.” He stomped back to the bucket—but Wanda beat him to it. Wanda can really scoot when she gets going. She zoomed past Old Morris and grabbed the bucket. “Hey!” he yelled.
    â€œFrogs!” yelled Wanda, lifting off the lid.“I knew it, they’re in here. I’ve found Dad’s frogs! ”

    Old Morris grabbed the bucket from Wanda. “Leave my bucket alone,” he growled, “and get lost. If I ever see you kids around here again there will be trouble. Got that?”
    But Wanda would not give up that easily. She grabbed the bucket back and hung on like a dog with a bone. I would not have been surprised if she had growled, too. A tug-of-war broke out between Wanda and Old Morris, but Wanda would not give. Old Morris was so busy fending her off that he did not notice the pile of junk moving in on him fast.
    I did not know that Sir Horace could run . Without losing a single bolt he ran over and grabbed the bucket from them both.
    â€œWho is that in there?” demanded Old Morris. “Come out and fight like a man. Comeon .” Old Morris, who was not as tall as Sir Horace, stood on tiptoe and peered into the visor. “It’s no good hiding,” he yelled.
    â€œ I am in here, FitzMaurice,” Sir Horace’s voice boomed out. It sounded really spooky. “I, Sir Horace, have come on a quest for frogs and to take back what is rightfully mine. Now stand aside and let me pass!” Sir Horace drew his sword—the one Wanda and I had given him for his five hundredth birthday—and pointed it at Old Morris. It looked really sharp.
    â€œCareful!” I shouted. I did not want my suspect damaged.
    â€œDo not fear, Miss Spookie. I have him at my mercy. I am in no danger.” Sir Horace turned around and waggled his sword at me. “My trusty birthday present will protect me.”
    It obviously had been a long time since SirHorace had done any proper knight stuff and it showed. Even I know that you do not turn your back on someone like Old Morris for as much as one second.
    In that second Old Morris had snatched Sir Horace’s sword and thrown it to the ground. The next second he grabbed Sir Horace around the waist and threw him into a nearby wheelbarrow. Sir Horace landed with a horrible crash, and both his arms fell off. He lay in the wheelbarrow with his feet kicking like a stranded beetle. It was horrible. “Nora!” yelled Old Morris. “Nora!”
    A little kid with carroty pigtails, grubby T-shirt and shorts, and long stick arms and legs appeared out of nowhere. “Yes, Dad?” she squeaked.
    I was shocked. How could Old Morrispossibly be a dad? He looked ancient. And he was so horrible .
    â€œTake the bucket, Nora,” said Old Morris, “and get rid of those pesky kids.”
    â€œOkay, Dad,”