Wild Moose Chase Read Online Free PDF Page B

they’d done too. What would Mr Zola do when he found out he had a couple of stowaways? And Gramps was going to be hopping mad.
    She watched Mr Zola let down two ear flaps attached to his cheese hat. It was getting colder as they climbed higher. He produced a hand mirror from a fringed leather bag and studied himself, stroking his moustache and murmuring something under his breath. Then he checked his Cheesemaker-Locator and began springing gently up and down on the throne. Cam could see Bert’s head being gently pummelled by Mr Zola’s bottom. Bert let out an involuntary squeak. Mr Zola leapt to his feet and glared at the throne suspiciously.
    â€œDid you hear that, Monty?” he said.
    Cam glanced around the basket to see who “Monty” was, but there appeared to be no one else there. Mr Zola got to his knees and peered under the throne. He produced a long telescope and began poking the fur rug with it.
    â€œGerr-off,” mumbled Bert.
    Mr Zola let out a small scream and ran to the other side of the basket.
    â€œWho’s there?” he shrieked, holding the telescope up like a sword. “Show yourself!”
    Bert crawled out from under the throne, his green eyes wide with panic and his mouth pulled in that strange diagonal line.
    â€œA stowaway!” gasped Mr Zola.
    â€œErm … t-two, actually,” stuttered Cam, popping up from her hiding place.
    Mr Zola spun round as Cam tried to climb out of the crate, tripped on the side and fell in a heap on the floor.
    â€œI think I’m going to faint,” mumbled Mr Zola, raising the back of his hand to his forehead. “Quick, fetch my man-bag.”
    As he slid theatrically to the floor, he managed to point to the fringed leather bag.
    Bert and Cam looked at each other in confusion before grabbing the bag. They knelt beside the crumpled Mr Zola.
    â€œSmelling salts,” he moaned.
    Bert peered into the bag and pulled out a small bottle. He held it under Mr Zola’s nose.
    â€œMind the moustache,” said Mr Zola, snatching the bottle and inhaling deeply.
    The twins wrinkled their noses as the smell of lavender oil and ammonia drifted out. Mr Zola pushed himself up into a sitting position and pulled out the small mirror from his man-bag. He checked his reflection before turning to the twins.
    â€œYou are in so much trouble!” he hissed. “Do you realize what you’ve done?”
    â€œWe’re so sorry,” murmured Bert. “We were hoping to—”
    â€œI don’t care what you were hoping to do!” shouted Mr Zola. He turned back to the mirror and patted the curly hair on his top lip. “You’ve tangled the ’tache!”
    â€œPardon?” asked Cam.
    â€œYou’ve mangled my muzzie!” he fumed. “Niggled my nose neighbour!”
    Cam frowned.
    â€œYou and your silly escapades have messed up my moustache!” ranted Mr Zola, twiddling his elaborate nose hair back into place. “Poor Monty! He gets very nervous around children.”
    â€œMonty?” repeated Cam. “Your moustache has a name?”
    â€œOf course he has a name,” he cried, getting to his feet. “But what’s your name? Who are you? You are trespassing on Her Majesty’s property!”
    Cam cleared her throat and glanced nervously at Bert.
    â€œM-my name is Camilla Curd and this is my brother, Bert,” she said hesitantly. “First of all, we would like to apologize for scaring your moustache.”
    Bert looked at her as if she was mad, but Mr Zola seemed pleased with the apology.
    â€œI’ve n-never seen such a fine moustache,” she went on. “Have you, Bert?”
    A small smile touched Mr Zola’s face as he coaxed “Monty” round into two perfectly symmetrical coils.
    â€œErm … no,” said Bert. “It’s really … I mean, he is really … um … hairy. Is he friendly?”
    The smile