Runaway Ralph - Beverly Cleary [27]
With a look of interest Garf sat back on his heels. However, he said, “I don’t want to have anything to do with that watch. I don’t want to be seen near it, or people will start saying I took it again. Most everyone’s forgotten about it, and I want to keep it that way.”
“You don’t have to go near it,” said Ralph. “Just watch me.” Flattening himself, he squeezed under the screen door, jumped down the steps, and ran out into the bamboo leaves. Suddenly, all bamboo leaves looked alike. Which leaf was hiding the watch? Ralph did not know. He looked under one leaf, and then the next. He heard Garf mutter, “Huh!” and return to his work. Over by one of the lodges Lana shouted, “Bad cat! Bad cat!”
Ralph pushed some leaves aside and crawled under others. Where was that watch anyway? There was no telling how many leaves had fallen since Catso had dropped the watch. Ralph crawled deeper and deeper into the leaves and was finally rewarded by the touch of metal against his paw.
Next Ralph grasped the buckle on the leather strap and tugged. The watch was heavier than he had expected, but it slid across the smooth inside surface of the leaf. Ralph waded up through the leaves, pulling with all his strength, and at last emerged, dragging the watch behind him. “See!” he said. “I told you I knew where it was!”
“Well, what do you know?” Garf sat down on the step to the craft shop. “You really did. How did the watch get there?”
“I told you,” said Ralph impatiently. “Catso picked it up in his mouth, carried it out here, batted it around awhile, and finally dropped it where it slid under a leaf.”
“You know, I believe you’re telling the truth,” said Garf with wonder in his voice.
“Of course, I’m telling the truth.” Ralph was indignant.
“But what good does it do me?” asked Garf. “You know I can’t return it. And if I said Catso stole it, people would laugh.”
This moment was the one Ralph had been waiting for. First he pulled some bamboo leaves over the watch to hide it before he faced Garf. “All right, let’s talk business,” he said. “I return the watch and clear your name; you give me back my motorcycle.”
From the trampoline Ralph heard Lana say as she bounced, “Bad—dog—Sam! You’re supposed—to be a—watch—dog!” She stopped bouncing and began to scold Sam. “You’re a watchdog. Why didn’t you watch what Catso was doing? Why did you let Catso get that poor little mouse?”
Garf thought awhile before he said, “Why do you want the motorcycle? The ground is pretty uneven around here.”
“Why do you want it?” countered Ralph. “You’re too big to ride it. It is mouse-sized, not boy-sized.”
“I want it because I like to think about motorcycles,” said Garf. “I push it back and forth and think about riding a motorcycle when I grow up.”
“I want it to ride,” said Ralph. “Now. Back to the Mountain View Inn. I want to go home.”
“The Mountain View Inn!” Garf was incredulous. “That’s over a mile away. You’d never make it.”
Ralph recalled the long and thrilling downhill ride. He remembered how he had thought at the time that he would never be able to go back up the mountain road. “Maybe you’re right,” he admitted.
“Of course, you wouldn’t,” said Garf. He pulled the motorcycle out of his pocket and ran a finger over the front tire. “For one thing your tires would never stand the trip. They’re wearing smooth. There is still a lot of mileage left in them if you ride on floors, but they won’t hold up on a highway.”
“Oh.” Ralph had not considered the possibility of his tires wearing out.
“And another thing,” said Garf. “You’d probably get laryngitis from making a motorcycle noise before you were halfway there.”
Ralph was utterly dejected. “I suppose you’re right.”
“Bad—Sam! Bad—Sam!” scolded Lana from the trampoline.
Ralph ducked under a leaf while some campers walked past. “What am I going to do?” he asked pitifully, as he emerged. “I can’t stay here with the cats. I’m a hotel mouse. I’m not used to living on weed seeds out in the cold. When winter comes I’ll probably die—if the cats don’t get me first.