The Wild Ones Read Online Free PDF Page A

eat us all up if they could. Of course, it’s easy enough to get around the alley if you’ve got friends looking out for you.”
    â€œFriends to keep you from getting hurt,” added Shane.
    â€œAnd we, as upstanding representatives of the Rabid Rascals,” said Flynn, “do not want to see you get hurt.”
    Now Kit was really confused. “Rabid who?”
    Shane shook his head. “He doesn’t know the Rabid Rascals.”
    Flynn nodded kindly. “The Rabid Rascals are a neighborhood watch,” he explained. “We’re a cohort, if you will, of creatures committed to the safety and well-being of all the residents of Ankle Snap Alley.”
    â€œA cohort?” Kit scratched his head. Something didn’t sound right. He knew the word
cohort
meant a group, but he began to feel uneasy about how the Blacktail brothers were using the word, as if they meant far more than they said.
    â€œWell,” added Shane with a shrug, “some might call us a gang. But we only gang up on folks who don’t appreciate our protection. Folks that threaten the safety of our neighborhood.”
    â€œAnd its well-being,” added Flynn.
    â€œOf course,” said Shane. “We are very committed to well-being, as well as being well.”
    â€œOh yes,
being
well most of all,” said Flynn. “And inthe interest of
your
being well, Kit, I suggest you stick with us and play a game or three. I bet you crumbs to nuts that this uncle of yours finds his way to you before the sun comes up again on Ankle Snap.”
    â€œI don’t think I should be . . . gambling,” said Kit.
    â€œJust until an uncle comes along,” said Shane. “Uncles are drawn to the old shell game like church mice to peanuts.”
    Both raccoons looked across the alley at a cluster of three mice taking up the narrow path between P. Ansel’s Sweet & Best-Tasting Baking Company and a coop of chickens, settling in to their evening gossip outside the rooster’s barbershop. Passersby of all families and furs tried to sidestep the mice, but the little guys got right in the way of cat and rat alike.
    â€œDo you believe peace is possible?” a mouse demanded of a wobbly-looking skunk, shoving a bark pamphlet in his face. “Do you have faith the Wild Ones and the Flealess can live in harmony? We do! We know the way to peace and prosperity!”
    The skunk waved him off, staggered around him, and quickly vanished into the dark doorway of a place called Larkanon’s, where a mangy dog dozed by the door.
    â€œMorning, Rocks,” the skunk said as he tossed the dog a few seeds. The dog put them in a pocket of his jacket and grunted without lifting his head.
    The mouse with the pamphlet looked sadly afterthe skunk, sighed, and returned to calling out for other passersby. “All the families of fur and feather, paw and claw, predator and prey, all can live in harmony! We needn’t pay the Rascals for protection! We needn’t fear the Flealess! The woodpecker’s fate need not be ours! When the Bone of Contention is found, peace will be at hand!”
    â€œOh, stuff your cheese holes!” Flynn shouted at the mouse, his fangs flashing. The mouse ignored him completely.
    â€œWhat’s the Bone of Contention?” Kit wondered.
    â€œDon’t mind about those church mice and their fables, Kit.” Flynn captured his attention once more, all smiles. “You know the game, shells-and-nuts?”
    â€œI . . . uh . . . ,” Kit mustered.
    â€œYou got any seeds in that fine coat of yours?”
    â€œWell . . . I have seeds, but I really shouldn’t . . . I wouldn’t want to—”
    â€œIf we all lived by shoulds, we wouldn’t do a thing worth doing!” Shane cut him off. “Seeds are meant for spending, not for shoulding about in pockets!”
    Kit was still puzzling out