Freddy Rides Again (5 page)

“Very good, Wes,” said Jinx. “Very well put. But you shut your bill and let Freddy talk, or I'll knock it so crooked you'll have to be fed with a spoon.”

“All we came up to say,” said Freddy, “was that we're not too sure of that cat, Arthur, and we want to warn you to go slow with him. I know he's very pleasant spoken and entertaining, but—”

“That's enough,” Uncle Wesley cut in coldly. “That's quite enough. You are speaking of one who has shown us a great deal of kindness. We are proud to call him our friend.”

“Freddy is our friend too, Uncle,” said Emma. “Hadn't we better listen to what he has to say?”

“You and your sister have led a very sheltered life, my dear,” said Wesley. “You have wisely accepted my guidance in worldly affairs. I think that possibly I am as good a judge as Freddy of how you should choose your friends.”

“Oh come on, Freddy,” said Bill. “This guy will be no loss if Arthur does eat him. Friendship—hah! You know how such friendships end, don't you, Wes? Scrunch-scrunch, and a few feathers floating in the air.”

“I don't care about Wesley,” said Freddy, “but Alice and Emma shouldn't be put in danger just because he hasn't any sense.”

“Don't worry about us, Freddy,” Alice said. “You've warned us and we promise to be very careful. Uncle Wesley is so loyal to his friends! You mustn't blame him.”

“Alice!” said Wesley sharply. “I'll thank you not to apologize for me. I am not aware of needing any help in defending my opinions.”

Jinx came to the end of his patience. “Oh,
gosh
!” he said exasperatedly. And he jumped up and pounced upon the duck, flattening him to the earth. “You silly old lunkhead!” he said, holding him down with one paw. “I'm going to whack some sense into you.” And he rapped Uncle Wesley sharply on the head with his free paw. “I suppose if a rattlesnake smiled and took off his hat to you, you'd invite him to dinner. Well, you're going to make me a little promise, Wes. I'm going to hold you down and cuff you until you promise to have nothing further to do with Arthur.”

Uncle Wesley shut his eyes and pulled his head down as close to his body as he could. He wished he was a turtle, so he could pull it right inside himself. But as he wasn't, he did the next best thing—he gave in. “I promise! I promise!” he quacked frantically.

He lay there for a minute after Jinx let him go, panting dramatically, and then he got up slowly. Alice and Emma waddled over to help him, but he pushed them aside and limped off towards his house. At the door he turned. “I warn you that I shall not keep that promise,” he called. “You obtained it by force, and such a promise is not binding.” And he went into the house.

“Oh, I give up!” said Jinx. “Well, if he wants to get eaten, let him climb right up on the platter and sit down. You girls be careful, that's all.”

“We will, Jinx,” said Alice. “And I think we can persuade Uncle Wesley to be careful too. At least we can keep him from going on any more long walks with Arthur. And by the way, it was funny your mentioning rattlesnakes. Because just yesterday Arthur and Uncle Wesley
saw
a rattlesnake. Up in the woods.”

“There aren't any rattlesnakes around here,” said Bill.

“Maybe a milk snake,” said Freddy. “They look like rattlers. There's several of them living in the upper pasture. Very nice fellows, too.”

“I'm sure Uncle Wesley couldn't be mistaken,” said Alice. “He's very observant.”

“We'd better talk to Arthur,” said Freddy. He got up and swung into the saddle. “Come on, Jinx. So long, ducks. Now be careful, won't you?”

They found Arthur taking a sun bath on the flagstone at the foot of the porch steps. He said yes, that it was undoubtedly a rattlesnake that he and Wesley had seen.

Freddy looked at him sharply. “I see,” he said. “And so if one of the ducks was to disappear, you would say that the rattler had undoubtedly caught it. Is that it?”

“Why, I think—” Arthur began. And then he stopped. “Oho!” he said. “I see what you're getting at. You think that I made up the rattler. You think I am planning to eat those ducks myself, and then blame it on the snake.”

“Well,” Freddy said. “We don't know anything about you, Arthur. You claim you left Margarine's because you were too tenderhearted to catch mice and so they wouldn't feed you. But how is it, then, that our friend John found a bowl of milk out by their back steps the other night?”

Arthur didn't say anything. He was plainly very much embarrassed. He looked at Freddy and then he looked at Jinx, and then he cleared his throat several times and said: “H'm. Ha. Yes.”

“Yes what?” said Bill sharply.

“Yes, I'm going to tell you the truth,” Arthur said. “You see, I … No, no; I can't tell it to all of you like this. I couldn't tell it to anybody but another cat; it's too mortifying. Will you step aside with me, Jinx?”

So Jinx did. They whispered together for a minute, and then Jinx gave a loud yell of laughter. Arthur walked quickly away to the barn, and Jinx returned to his friends, fizzing with more yells which he was trying to hold back. He held a paw over his mouth for a minute, and then he said: “They've been feeding him all right. The reason he quit was—Oh, golly, it's a scream!” And he began fizzing again.

“Oh, for goodness' sake,” said Cy. “If this is a private joke we'll go and leave you alone with it.”

“No, no,” said Jinx. “You've got to hear it. The reason he quit was the name Mrs. Margarine called him.
Sweetie Pie
, she called him. Can you beat it?
Sweetie Pie!
For that big brute. She tied ribbons on him too. Pink ones. He couldn't take it. He said even the horses giggled whenever he walked past the stable. Oh boy, wait till the rest of the animals hear this.”

“They mustn't hear it,” said Freddy firmly. “I don't think we'd even better tell the mice, although it would probably stop them worrying about being eaten up. But if he's been going around with that name tagged to him, he's had enough kidding, and you know what they'll do if they hear it. I'd better go talk to him. I want to know more about the snake. I won't let him know you told us about his being
‘Sweetie Pie.'
I'll just say you're satisfied about him, and we accept your word. We don't want him going around feeling embarrassed every time he sees one of us.”

“I suppose you're right,” said the cat. “But I hate to pass up a good joke.”

“No joke is good if it hurts somebody's feelings,” said Cy.

“My sakes, listen to the deacon!” said Bill. But he agreed with him just the same.

Chapter 5

Nothing much happened during the next few days, but all the animals had the feeling that something was going to happen—something big and unpleasant, probably. It was like the feeling you get just before a thunderstorm. “Everything is just too quiet,” Freddy said. “We're all looking over our shoulders half the time, and getting ready to duck.”

“There's a perfectly good reason for that,” said Mrs. Wiggins. “Only we don't like to face it. We're all wondering if there really is a rattlesnake up by the woods. But if there is one, we'd almost rather not know it. We're like sick people who are afraid to call the doctor because he'll tell 'em what's wrong. I'll wager you haven't taken any steps yet to find out if what Arthur saw was a rattler or not.”

Freddy thought a minute. “You're right,” he said. “I didn't want there to be a rattler up there, so I pretended there wasn't one. But that's no way to act. Goodness, I'll see to it right away.”

For some years Freddy and Mrs. Wiggins had operated what was probably the only animal detective agency in the East. They had a number of rabbits, mice, birds, spiders and other small animals on their payroll, and they could swing into action on a case at a moment's notice. Freddy called in their head operative, Rabbit No. 23, and gave him his instructions. Within an hour, half a hundred birds and small animals had been alerted; within five hours, No. 23 was back with his report. He saluted and said:

“Operative No. 23 reporting: Regarding supposed appearance of rattlesnake in woods above duck pond. Mr. E. Nibble, squirrel, states that he has several times distinctly seen a rattlesnake gliding through the grass. He is quite certain.”

“I know Nibble,” said Freddy. “He's kind of an alarmist. I don't think we can pay much attention to him. Go on.”

“Yes, sir,” said 23. “Theodore, frog, states that he was hissed at and pursued for some distance by a rattlesnake. But on being questioned more closely, he admits that it might have been a milk snake, trying to be funny. He says most milk snakes are practical jokers. Rabbits No. 18, 6 and 37, state that they have seen a rattler a number of times. Confirming this report are the statements of Mr. Horace Winship, peewee, Mr. Jefferson P. Hopp, redwing blackbird, and a number of other reliable witnesses among the bird population. Elbert and Emmeline, two young children of Mrs. Tilbury, rabbit, living in the upper pasture, are said to be missing, and there is a general feeling that this rattler is responsible.” No. 23 paused. Then he said, “If I may make a suggestion, sir, perhaps I should go see this Mrs. Tilbury.”

“I think you should,” said Freddy. “Though I know her; her children are always getting lost. She's scatter-brained, even for—” He had been going to say “even for a rabbit,” but thought it wouldn't be very tactful. He coughed, and said: “She has eighteen children, and if she counts them and finds there are only sixteen, she has hysterics right away, without even bothering to look in the next room. She enjoys making a fuss. My guess is that Elbert and his sister have been right there all the time.”

No. 23 said: “Yes, sir. Shall I continue my investigation?”

“Not after you've seen Mrs. Tilbury,” said Freddy. “It looks as if there really was a rattlesnake, and in that case it's too dangerous. I'd better take over the job myself now.” Freddy couldn't help putting on a bold and fearless expression when he said this; he didn't really want to show off in front of 23, but the admiration in the rabbit's eyes was too much for him. After all, if you see that someone thinks you are a hero, you at least have to try to look like one.

No. 23 hopped off, and Freddy saddled Cy and rode up past the duck pond along the brook into the woods where there was a shady pool in which Theodore, the frog, lived. Freddy had spent many happy hours beside this pool, writing poetry, dreaming, occasionally just snoring the afternoon away. But today, though he dismounted, he didn't sit down on the mossy bank where he had composed so many of those famous and widely read verses. He drew his pistol and walked to the edge of the water. “Hey, Theodore!” he called.

There was a rustle in the bushes behind him, and he swung around.

“Don't shoot; I'll c-come quietly,” said a voice, and the frog crawled out. “What's the idea, cowboy; afraid I'll jump you when you aren't looking?”

“No,” said Freddy. “But I guess I'm a little nervous. I came up to look for that rattler.”

“Oh, him!” said the frog. “He's chased me a couple of tut-tut, I mean times. I thought he was one of those smart-aleck milk snakes, and finally I squared off and gave him a poke in the nose. You'd have died laughing, F-Freddy. He just coiled up and stared at me with his mouth open, and then he backed off into the bub, bub—I mean bushes.”

“Very funny,” said Freddy. “And if he'd swallowed you, I guess you're the one that would have died laughing.”

“Shucks, I can jump faster than any old rattler can strike,” Theodore said. “And that's all bub, bub—I mean boloney about snakes hypnotizing you so you can't move. Any old snake tries to hypnotize me, I'll hypnotize him right back.”