Young Fredle - Louise Yates [36]
Just as Fredle reached the corner, there came an outburst of furious barking. He froze, close up to the stone foundation, safely hidden—or so he hoped—behind the thick branches of one of the low bushes. He recognized Sadie’s bark, high and happy, and then Angus’s, which was lower and louder, more serious, more threatening.
“Robbers!” Angus half barked, half snarled. “Out! Out!”
“We see you!” barked Sadie, cheerfully.
A scurrying sound mixed in with the wind’s whisper, and then Fredle heard a thump. A high, nasal voice said, “Cheese it, guys. It’s the dogs!”
“I’m warning you,” snarled Angus. “You thieving sneaks, get out!” he barked.
There was more scurrying.
“Look how fast they run,” said Sadie. “Let’s catch them!”
“Try it. Just you try it,” growled the nasal voice, which now sounded dangerous and full of teeth.
“No, Sadie, don’t follow them.” Angus was quieter now. “You know what’ll happen.”
“But those aren’t skunks.”
“They’re more dangerous than skunks,” Angus said. “Mister says. Mister’ll be here”—and he barked three times, sharply—“any minute.”
Sadie echoed his barks. “We’re here! Mister! We’re in the garbage!”
Fredle heard the kitchen door bang and quick footsteps of a human on the porch, on the steps, and then Mister said, “Good dogs. Angus? Come! Sadie? Come!”
“We chased them away!” barked Sadie.
“Quiet, girl. Good job, both of you. Let me turn this flashlight on and we’ll do a check.”
“Yes, check,” said Angus. “Check the barn, check the garden, check the chickens.”
“A flashlight!” Sadie barked, more excited than before. “I can dance! I can be the dancing dog!”
Angus growled impatiently. “This isn’t a game, Sadie. This is serious.”
Fredle was so curious about all this that he forgot to be afraid. He crept close enough to see the two dogs, who were standing near the garbage containers. The man was coming toward them, following a stream of light.
“I’ll check the garden with Mister,” Angus said. “You guard the garbage.”
Fredle saw one dark dog shape run off, and he saw a garbage can lying on its side. Sadie had her nose in the contents, which were spread around on the ground.
Suddenly Angus turned and came back. “Don’t eat any of that. You’re not hungry.” He ran off again.
“Maybe I am,” Sadie said softly, continuing to sniff and snuffle. “I won’t eat if I’m not supposed to, but I can still be hungry. What are you doing here, Fredle? It wasn’t you, was it? Did you knock over the garbage? Are you friends with the raccoons?”
“There were raccoons?” answered Fredle. “I didn’t see them.”
“We chased them off. They’re frightened of us. They know how to take the top off a garbage can and now there’s a big mess.”
Lured by all the good food odors, Fredle came closer. He was smelling flavors he’d noticed in the air of the kitchen at night, after the humans had gone away, some of them delicious in ways he’d never smelled before. There was even something sweet and—
“Chicken bones are bad for you,” Sadie warned him.
Fredle had tracked the sweetness down to a pale, round paper container. “What’s this?”
“Ice cream.” She stuck her nose down to smell it. “We aren’t allowed ice cream and neither is the baby.”
“Is it poisonous?” It didn’t smell poisonous and it didn’t smell like that dark brown chocolate, either. Fredle crept up to the rim of the round container lying on its side on the ground.
“Because of all the sugar. Patches doesn’t like sugar, but I wish—and there are nuts in it, too,” Sadie said, with longing. “I’m not allowed,” she told Fredle.
Fredle crept over the rim and down into the container, to where the ice cream puddled.
“Sadie!” barked Angus. “I said, don’t eat anything!”
“I wasn’t, I was just—”
“Angus and Sadie, come!” Mister called. The light showed Angus running back toward Sadie. “I’ll get this mess picked up later,” Mister said, “but first we have to check the garden. We can’t let raccoons destroy the vegetable crop.”
“Wait for me!” Sadie barked, and she followed Mister off into the darkness.
Fredle didn’t notice them leaving. He had taken his first taste of ice cream