Henry and Beezus (2 page)

“If that cat hasn't any more sense than to sleep on the steps…” snapped Mr. Grumbie. “Hey, make that dog come back here!”

“Oh, my goodness!” exclaimed Mrs. Grumbie, when she saw what had happened. “Here, Ribsy, here, Ribsy!”

That was just what Ribsy needed to make him start running. He didn't like Mrs. Grumbie. He knew she sprinkled Doggie-B-Gone on the shrubbery to keep him away.

With one final yank and the sound of ripping cloth, Henry jerked away from the bushes.

“Tackle him,” yelled Robert, who was still trying to untangle himself from the thorns.

Henry flung himself at his dog, but Ribsy raced on. Henry picked himself up off the Grumbies' driveway and ran after him.

Around the Grumbies' house he ran and on down Klickitat Street. He could hear Robert's and Mr. Grumbie's feet pounding down the sidewalk after him.

“Ribsy!” yelled Henry.

“Hey, come back here,” shouted Robert.

“Stop thief!” bellowed Mr. Grumbie, holding onto his tall white hat with one hand.

Doors and windows began to open. “What's cooking, Grumbie?” someone called out.

Henry heard his mother say, “Oh, that dog!”

“Henry!” shouted Mr. Huggins.

“Go get 'em, Grumbie,” yelled the man across the street.

Mr. Grumbie paused for breath. “Somebody head him off,” he directed.

Ribsy ran into the street. A car turned the corner.

“Ribsy,” wailed Henry, afraid to look.

“Hey, look out,” warned Robert.

The car slammed on its brakes. Ribsy ran back to the sidewalk.

If only Henry could put on a burst of speed and make a really good flying tackle. But no matter how fast he ran, Ribsy was just out of his reach. He glanced over his shoulder and saw that Mr. Grumbie's face was red and he had lost his hat.

“Come…here…sir!” panted Mr. Grumbie. He wasn't used to running. Then his footsteps grew slower and slower until they stopped altogether.

Henry ran on, with Robert close behind. Their friend Mary Jane came out of her house and started down the sidewalk toward them. If only she would stop Ribsy.

“Catch him!” yelled Henry.

When Ribsy was only a few feet from Mary Jane, he dropped the meat on the sidewalk. Here was her chance. “Get it, Mary Jane,” Henry shouted, with almost all the breath he had left. “Get the meat!”

Mary Jane stood staring at Ribsy.

“Pick up the meat, you dope!” yelled Robert.

Still Mary Jane did not move. Ribsy waited until Henry was almost within tackling distance before taking a firm grip on the roast and starting to run again.

“Mary Jane,” panted Henry, “head him off.”

Mary Jane stepped aside and Ribsy ran on. Henry felt as if he could not move another step. “Why didn't you grab the meat?” he demanded, as he paused to catch his breath.

“You could have caught him if you wanted to,” accused Robert.

“I couldn't either stop your dirty old dog,” said Mary Jane. “Can't you see I'm wearing my Sunday School dress?”

“Mary Jane, you give me a pain.” Henry glared at her.

“You're a poet and don't know it,” said Mary Jane, twirling around to show off her full skirt.

Robert and Henry looked at one another. Girls!

Robert clutched Henry's arm and pointed in the direction from which Ribsy had come. “Look!”

A police dog, a fox terrier, and a sort of a collie were running down Klickitat Street toward Ribsy. Now there would be a dogfight, and the roast would be torn to pieces, and the two big dogs would chew up Ribsy. They would probably chew the fox terrier, too, and Henry knew the lady who owned him was very particular about keeping him out of dog fights. Henry would be blamed because the big dogs bit the little dog and…Suddenly Henry found he was too tired to do much of anything. He picked up a clod of dirt and threw it at the dogs as they passed him. “Beat it,” he said, but he didn't bother to shout. He knew it was no use.

“Boy, a dogfight!” Robert was delighted. “This is going to be keen.”

“Aw, keep quiet,” said Henry. Robert wouldn't feel that way if Ribsy were his dog. The sort of collie was gaining on Ribsy, and the police dog was not far behind. Poor Ribsy! Henry shut his eyes. He couldn't stand seeing Ribsy chewed to pieces.

“Gangway everybody!” It was Scooter's voice. Leaning over his handlebars and pumping as hard as he could, he tore down the street behind the three dogs. He passed Henry and Robert and, swerving to avoid the dogs, caught up with Ribsy. He didn't stop for the curb, but rode right over it with a tremendous bump. Then he flung himself off the bicycle and on top of Ribsy before the dog knew what was happening.

Ribsy dropped the meat and Scooter snatched it. He sprang on his bicycle, wheeled around in the middle of the street, and started back toward the Grumbies' house, holding the meat above his head with one hand. The three other dogs and Ribsy all chased after Scooter, barking and growling as they jumped up and tried to snap at the meat.

Eluding them all, Scooter pedaled triumphantly back down Klickitat Street. “Hi,” he said briefly to Henry and Robert as he passed them.

“Hey, give me that meat,” demanded Henry. Scooter ignored him.

“How do you like that!” said Robert.

“He sure thinks he's smart.”

Henry ran after Scooter, who pedaled even faster. Henry put on a burst of speed. So did Scooter. So did the dogs. Henry could hear the neighbors laughing. He tried to run faster, but Scooter stayed just out of his reach.

When Scooter reached the Grumbies' house, he handed the meat to its owner. “There you are, Mr. Grumbie,” he said.

Mr. Grumbie took the battered roast. “Thank you, Scooter. That was mighty quick thinking on your part.”

“It wasn't anything,” said Scooter modestly. “It was easy to catch up with him on my bike.”

The other dogs lost interest and ran away, but Ribsy continued to whimper and jump for the meat. Then even he gave up and sat panting, with his long pink tongue hanging out.

Poor Ribsy, thought Henry. He wanted that meat so much. Maybe he's tired of horse meat. Henry wished he dared to pet his dog, even though he had been cross with him.

“He's a dumb dog,” said Scooter. “It's a good thing I came along and saved him from those other dogs when I did.”

“I think you're mean, Scooter McCarthy,” said Beezus. “Poor Ribsy.”

“Why don't you go home?” said Henry to Scooter.

“Now, children,” said Mrs. Huggins. Then she said to Mrs. Grumbie, “You must let us buy you another roast. Henry can help pay for it out of his allowance. He knows he is supposed to keep his dog out of your yard.”

“Gee, my mother says roasts are expensive,” said Scooter.

“You keep quiet.” Henry scowled at Scooter. Why was Scooter always around when things happened to him? “Jeepers, I'm sorry, Mrs. Grumbie,” said Henry. “I don't know what got into Ribsy. He was just hungry, I guess.”

“He always is,” observed Mr. Huggins.

Meat markets were closed on Sunday, but Henry knew that the delicatessen counter in the supermarket was open. “Delicatessens have wienies, don't they?” he asked. “I could run down to the supermarket and get some for you, if you'd like.”

“I could go faster on my bike,” said Scooter.

Mrs. Grumbie smiled. “Thank you, Henry. That won't be necessary. I think we'll go out to dinner.” She looked at Mr. Grumbie, who had started toward the house with the roast. “Just between you and me,” she whispered, “I don't think the meat would have been fit to eat with that sauce Mr. Grumbie was going to put on it.” Then she called to her husband, “Hector, what are you going to do with that dirty piece of meat?”

“I suppose he might as well have it,” said Mr. Grumbie reluctantly. “Not that he deserves it.” He threw the remains to Ribsy.

Mrs. Grumbie paused in the doorway. “Henry, I'm going to bake cookies tomorrow. If you'll stop by on your way home from school tomorrow, I'll give you some.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Grumbie,” answered Henry. She seemed almost glad Ribsy had stolen the roast. At least, she wasn't cross anymore.

“Here, Ribsy, it isn't time for you to eat yet.” Henry tugged at the roast, but Ribsy hung on and growled. “Come on, Dad, give me a hand.”

Mr. Huggins took hold of the meat and together they got it away from Ribsy. “I'll put it in the refrigerator for him,” said Mr. Huggins, “and I'll have a talk with you later.”

“Aw, gee, Dad,” protested Henry. “I wasn't doing anything.”

“You wanted something to happen, didn't you?” said Mr. Huggins, as he carried the meat into the house.

Henry did not answer. He just sighed and sat down on the steps. Why did these things always have to happen to him, anyway? Robert sat down beside him while Ramona sat on the grass beside Ribsy. Scooter picked up his bicycle. Beezus began to practice twirling her baton again.

“That was pretty exciting, wasn't it?” asked Robert. “It isn't often something happens around here on Sunday.”

“I suppose so,” said Henry, with no enthusiasm at all.

“It sure was a good thing I caught that dog of yours when I did,” boasted Scooter.

Henry glared. “You think you're smart, don't you!”

“Well, somebody had to stop him.” Scooter threw his leg across his bicycle.

“You just wait till I get my bike,” said Henry.

Both boys looked interested. “Aw, you aren't going to get a bike,” said Scooter. “You're just saying that.”

“I am too going to get a bike,” insisted Henry. “And it's going to be a better bike than yours. You just wait and see.”

“When are you going to get it, Henry?” asked Robert.

“Never mind when.” Henry tried to look mysterious. “You just wait and see.”

“You're just saying that,” repeated Scooter.

“He is not.” Beezus flipped her baton and almost caught it before it fell to the grass. “If Henry says he's going to get a bicycle, he's going to get one. So there!”

“Ha,” said Scooter, and pedaled down the street.

“Are you really going to get a bike?” asked Robert and Beezus at the same time, when Scooter had gone.

“Sure, I'm going to get one.” Henry tried to sound as if he meant it. He had to get a bike now. He just had to, that was all. He would start a bicycle fund right away. Of course, he had to think about paying for the roast first, but with all that beef in the refrigerator, he wouldn't have to buy horse meat for Ribsy at the Lucky Dog Pet Shop for a couple of weeks. The money he saved on horse meat would start his bike fund. He'd get that bicycle yet.

O
ne day after school Mrs. Huggins asked Henry to run down to the market for a pound of ground round steak. On the way home he decided to cut through the vacant lot to see if he could find a Coke bottle to turn in at the supermarket for pennies to add to his bike fund. He was careful to keep the meat out of Ribsy's reach.

While Henry was looking for bottles, Ribsy, barking excitedly, bounded off into the bushes. Because it was so unusual for his dog to leave a package of meat, Henry followed to see what he was chasing. It was only a neighborhood cat, but when Henry started back to the path, he noticed a piece of gray cardboard with printing on it sticking out of the bushes. He stopped to see what it was.

“Wow!” exclaimed Henry. Thrown carelessly in a hollow, and half hidden by weeds, was a pile of boxes. On the end of each box was printed the words “Double Bubble Gum.”

Telling himself the boxes were probably empty, Henry hastily hid the meat in a bush out of his dog's reach before he eagerly ripped open one of the boxes. It was full of pink balls the size of a marble. Henry popped one into his mouth, bit through the sugar coating, chewed vigorously, and then blew a rubbery pink bubble. It really was bubble gum!

Henry opened several other boxes and found them full of gum, too. He couldn't take time to count the balls, but there must have been two hundred, maybe even three hundred, in each box. He counted the boxes. There were forty-nine, all full of bubble gum. Forty-nine times three hundred was…Well, it was a terribly big number.

Henry couldn't believe it. Forty-nine boxes of bubble gum, and three hundred balls in each box! It was enough to last the rest of his life. He would never have to park his gum again. He was rich!

Then Henry began to think. He knew he was rich only if he could get the gum home without being seen by the other boys and girls. That was not going to be easy. He took the pound of ground round steak out of the bushes and picked up two boxes of gum. “Come on, Ribsy,” he said and ran home as fast as he could.

Henry tossed the package of meat onto the drain board in the kitchen and stowed the gum under his bed in his own room. Then he ran down Klickitat Street toward Beezus's house. He was careful to slow down when he saw her in the yard.

“Hi,” said Henry, as if he had all the time in the world.

“Hello, Henry,” said Beezus, gathering a handful of tulip petals and tossing them into the air so they fell over her in a pink shower. Her little sister Ramona was sitting on an apple box at the edge of the sidewalk.

“Say, Beezus,” said Henry casually, “could I borrow your red wagon for a little while?”

“What for?” asked Beezus, looking much too interested.

“Oh, just an errand,” said Henry.

“Can I go?” asked Beezus.

“No.” Henry hid his impatience. “It's just some work I've got to do.”

“Then you can't borrow it,” said Beezus, and gathered another handful of petals.

Henry saw that this was a situation that must be handled carefully. “I'll give you a piece of bubble gum.” He blew a bubble for her to admire.

“OK,” agreed Beezus. “Give it to me and I'll get the wagon.”

Henry knew she had him there. He hadn't put any loose gum in his pockets. He should have known better than to ask a favor of a girl, anyway. “I'll give it to you when I get back,” he said.

Beezus was firm. “Not unless I go, too.”

Henry saw Scooter riding toward them on his bicycle and knew he had to act fast. He didn't want old Scooter hanging around asking questions. “OK,” he agreed quickly. “You can go, but just remember I've got double dibs on what I'm going to bring home.”

When Henry and Beezus returned from the backyard with the red wagon, Scooter was no longer in sight, but Ramona was still sitting on the apple box.

“Come on, Ramona,” said Beezus, taking an old panda bear out of the wagon. “We're going with Henry.”

“No,” said Ramona.

Henry was growing anxious. What if Scooter decided to cut through the vacant lot? “Jeepers, Beezus, we've just got to hurry. It's awfully important. If we don't get where we're going, we might be too late.”

“Ramona,” coaxed Beezus, “can't you play that game some other time?”

“What game?” asked Henry. He couldn't see that Ramona was playing any game.

“She's playing she's waiting for a bus,” explained Beezus.

Henry groaned. It was the dumbest game he had ever heard of. “Doesn't she know it isn't any fun just to sit on a box?” he asked, looking nervously up and down the street. If only he could be sure no one else had discovered his gum!

“Sh-h,” whispered Beezus. “She thinks it's fun and I don't want her to find out it isn't. It keeps her quiet.” Then she said to her little sister, “If you get in the wagon, Henry and I'll pull you and you can pretend you're riding on the bus.”

Henry was relieved that this idea pleased Ramona, who climbed into the wagon. He and Beezus ran down the street pulling the wagon behind them. When they came to the path through the vacant lot, Beezus pushed the wagon and Henry pulled. If only no one else had discovered Henry's treasure!

“Gee whillikers!” said Beezus in a hushed voice, when she saw what they had come for. “Are all those boxes really full of gum?”

“They sure are,” said Henry, gathering an armload.

Beezus began to help. “And is it all yours?”

“Sure. I found it and said I had double dibs, didn't I?” said Henry. “But just to be sure, I've got to get it home before the other kids see it.”

Beezus was a sensible girl who understood the importance of this, and she began to work faster. She lifted Ramona out of the wagon. Ramona yelled. “Here, chew this,” said Beezus, poking a piece of gum into her mouth.

When Beezus and Henry had all the gum loaded onto the wagon, Henry took off his jacket and spread it over the boxes. Then they pulled their cargo home as fast as Ramona could run.

“Whew!” breathed Henry, when they turned into his yard. Now that the gum was on his property, no one could come along and say he had dibs on it, too. He flung himself down on the front steps. “Come on,” he said. “Let's chew.”

Beezus helped herself to a ball of gum and crunched through the sugar coating. Henry added a ball to the one he already had in his mouth. Ramona, too young to be an expert, smacked noisily. Henry gave Ribsy a piece. Looking puzzled, the dog tried to bite into it. The ball rolled around in his mouth until he spat it out on the grass and looked reproachfully at Henry.

Beezus admired the size of the bubbles Henry blew with a double wad, so she tried a second ball. Henry tried a third.

Then Robert came down the street. “What's up, Doc?” he asked.

“Look.” Henry blew a bubble the size of a tennis ball. When it broke with a satisfying pop, he had difficulty getting the gum back into his mouth, because it stuck to his chin. “Have a piece. Have two pieces,” he said, when he was able to talk.

“Wow!” Robert stared at the wagonload of gum. He lost no time in putting two pieces into his mouth.

The group chewed busily until Mary Jane appeared. “Henry Huggins, where did you get that gum?” she demanded.

“Have a piece.” Henry ignored her question as he extended a box of gum to her.

“No, thank you,” said Mary Jane. “My mother says chewing gum is vulgar.” She watched the others chew until she could stand it no longer. “If you don't mind,” she said, “I think I will try just one piece.”

Henry pulled a bubble back into his mouth. “Sure, help yourself.”

The first time Mary Jane tried to blow a bubble, she blew the gum out of her mouth onto the grass.

“No, that's not the way,” said Henry, offering her another piece. “Flatten it with your teeth and poke your tongue into it before you blow.”

After a little practice Mary Jane blew small, ladylike bubbles.

Then Scooter came pedaling down the street on his bicycle. He stopped when he saw the group on the steps. “Say, Huggins, when are you going to get that bike?”

Henry blew an extra-large bubble before he answered. “You just wait and see.”

Scooter whistled with amazement. “Say, where'd you get all that?”

“None of your beeswax,” said Henry through his wad.

“How about letting me have a piece?” asked Scooter.

“Nope,” said Henry.

“Aw, come on,” coaxed Scooter.

“Nope.” Henry was pleased that he had something Scooter wanted.

Scooter thought a minute. “I'll let you ride my bike to the corner and back if you'll give me a piece.”

This put a new light on the matter. “Let me ride around the block,” bargained Henry.

“OK.” Scooter got off his bicycle.

“Just one piece. Robert, you watch my gum while I'm gone.” Henry picked up the bicycle. He wished he weren't so wobbly at riding, because he knew he would never hear the last of it if he took a spill in front of Scooter. He stepped on the high pedal with his left foot, threw his right leg across the seat, and found the other pedal with his right foot. The bike was too large for him, and he teetered from one side of the walk to the other before he got started.

Then Henry began to enjoy himself. This was the life! And if Scooter let him ride around the block for one piece of gum, there was no telling what he could get with the rest of the gum.

Henry started to make plans. He would use the gum the way the Indians used wampum. He would take some to school and see what the other boys and girls offered him. Why, they would probably even give him money for the gum. If he sold it for less than the store did, say two balls for a penny, he would get rid of it in no time and have the money for his bike fund. He'd show old Scooter yet!

The ride around the block was much too short. When he laid the bike on the lawn, Beezus said, “Henry, I need my wagon. I've got to take Ramona home. She's got gum in her hair.”

“Sure,” said Henry. “Here's a box of gum for letting me use the wagon.”

“A whole box?” exclaimed Beezus gratefully. “Gee, thanks, Henry. I never expected this much.”

As Beezus and her little sister left, Mr. Huggins pulled into the driveway and got out of his car. “Hello, kids,” he said. “What's all this?”

When Henry explained, his father laughed and quickly estimated the total amount of gum. “Forty-nine boxes of three hundred balls each is…let's see…fourteen thousand seven hundred balls of gum. Quite a lot, isn't it?”

Even Scooter looked impressed until Mr. Huggins said, “How do you know there isn't something wrong with it?”

Four wads of gum were promptly spat into the shrubbery. Henry discovered his jaws were very tired. Come to think of it, there
was
something funny about all that gum lying around in a vacant lot.

“Or maybe it's stolen goods,” suggested Mr. Huggins. “There must be some reason why it was dumped in the lot.”

“Receiving stolen goods is pretty bad, isn't it?” asked Scooter.