Runaway Ralph - Beverly Cleary [28]
“You should have thought about things like that before you ran away,” chided Garf.
“I should, but I didn’t,” said Ralph coldly. “You don’t have to sound like a grown-up.”
“Sorry,” apologized Garf. The dinner bell rang, and campers began to run toward the dining hall. Catso, avoiding Lana with a haunted look on his furry face, darted from one hiding place to the next, on his way to the kitchen door. Poor old Sam, so conscientious and anxious to please, padded dejectedly across the grass with his tail drooping. He had failed in his duty.
Ralph did not have much time. “Do we have an agreement or don’t we?” he demanded of the boy.
“I have a better idea,” said Garf. “I’ll take you back to the hotel myself when my family comes to get me. They’ll be spending the night there before they come to pick me up the day after tomorrow. The camp doesn’t serve us lunch on the day we leave, so I know we’ll stop at the inn for lunch before we start for home. It’s the only place around here. I could easily take you along in my pocket.”
This offer was more than Ralph had hoped for. “But the motorcycle,” he persisted. “If I return the watch, will you give it back?” Ralph felt he would rather perish at Happy Acres Camp than return to the hotel without his motorcycle.
“How will you return it?” Garf was curious. “You couldn’t get it up on the shelf in the craft shop or up on a desk in the office.”
“I didn’t say where I would return it,” answered Ralph. “I said I would return it. I’ll leave it somewhere where Karen is sure to find it.”
Garf thought this plan over. “But people might think I left it there.”
Ralph had an answer. “Not if I leave it someplace where the boys can’t go.”
“You mean the girls’ bathroom?” asked Garf, visibly impressed by Ralph’s idea.
“Maybe,” said Ralph carelessly. “Or Karen’s lodge. Or the girls’ dressing room by the swimming pool. You better make up your mind or you’ll be late for lunch.”
“It’s a deal!” said Garf suddenly. “You return the watch by tomorrow, and I’ll give you back your motorcycle. The next day I’ll take you to the inn. But remember, no watch, no motorcycle.”
“It’s a deal,” agreed Ralph, “and you might throw in a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for my dinner.”
“Would you care to shake on it?” asked Garf.
Ralph extended his paw, which Garf took gently between his thumb and forefinger. They shook. “I’ll meet you by the bamboo tomorrow morning after breakfast,” said Garf, and he ran off toward the dining hall. “If you’re not there, I’ll come back later.”
I hope I’ll be there, thought Ralph, who knew that a night of peril lay ahead of him. A peanut butter and jelly sandwich would help to give him strength and courage.
Over in the dining hall the campers began to sing:
“You can’t get to Heaven on roller skates
’Cause you’ll roll right past those pearly gates.
You can’t get to Heaven with a nickel in your jeans
’Cause the Lord don’t allow no slot machines.”
9
A Dangerous Plan
I’m a failure, Ralph told himself, as the bird chorus announced the dawn and a rooster crowed down by the barn. I’m a miserable rotten failure.
Ralph had returned to his perch in the bamboo after a night spent hurrying, scurrying, and worrying. Every building at Happy Acres Camp was built on ungnawable mouseproof concrete. Every screen door was above a clifflike concrete step. The watch still lay hidden in the bamboo leaves, Garf would soon learn that his name was not to be cleared after all, and Ralph would not get his motorcycle back. Drat, he swore to himself. Drat, drat, drat! He felt especially bad because Garf actually had left a quarter of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich at the foot of the bamboo for his supper the night before.
Ralph was about to climb down the bamboo to hide from Garf when the alarm clock rang, and the bugler stumbled out to rouse the sleeping camp. Campers washed their faces at washbasins outside their lodges, and then, before they went to breakfast, the girls carried their sleeping bags out to air. Some draped their unzipped bags