Mr. Penguin and the Catastrophic Cruise by Alex T. Smith

Author:Alex T. Smith
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Peachtree Publishing Company
Published: 2020-05-28T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

WE ARE IN DANGER

If there was ever a moment Mr. Penguin needed a fish finger sandwich, it was now.

But even if he had had one tucked helpfully in his satchel, he wouldn’t have been able to whip it out. His flippers started to quiver like a nervous jelly.

They had been duped! Caught out! Slapped about by a collection of red herrings!

Manic laughter filled the cabin office, much louder and scarier than Mr. Penguin ever would have imagined could have come from such a tiny old man, as Herbert Chuckle rocked with glee.

“You seriously believe that bunch of dunderheads could have put this plan, my GENIUS plan, together by themselves?” he hooted, dabbing at his eyes with a monogrammed hanky. “It was all me! I did the hunting through piles of library books! I found the information about the island! I found out about Albert Skipper! Me! Me! All me!”

The look on Mr. Chuckle’s face changed from glee to deadly seriousness.

“Of course, I needed that band of pirates for their muscles and nautical know-how,” he growled. “But their tiny brains are no match for mine! I might be old, but I’m as sharp as a very sharp pin! My only mistake was agreeing to let Colin join the Seven Sisters Choir. I should have known the pair of you would try to meddle in my scheme. But no matter. You’ll never get your flippers on my treasure!”

Mr. Penguin and Colin had been slowly backing away from the desk and were now backed against the far wall of the office.

“But…but…” stammered Mr. Penguin, suddenly finding his voice (even though it came out a bit squeakily). “I don’t understand. You’ve got heaps and heaps of money—why do you want to find buried treasure?”

A wide grin crept across Mr. Chuckle’s wrinkled face. “Ha!” he snorted. “You see, there we go—another inferior brain! There are many types of treasure, Mr. Penguin.”

He took a pocket watch out from under his jacket and checked the time.

“But as the party is about to begin, I believe your time is running out!”

Well, Mr. Penguin didn’t understand a word of that. How could piles of gold coins and diamonds not be treasure? Unless the coins were made out of chocolate? But then why put together this dastardly plan for some chocolate (nice as chocolate was)? With all of Mr. Chuckle’s money, surely he could buy as many chocolate coins as he wanted?

Mr. Penguin’s belly rumbled. Colin slid his pad into Mr. Penguin’s field of vision.

It said:

YOU ARE THINKING ABOUT CHOCOLATE COINS, AREN’T YOU?

Not taking his eyes off Mr. Chuckle, Mr. Penguin nodded, not in the least bit surprised that his best pal had read his mind.

WELL STOP IT,

said the pad.

Next page:

WE ARE IN DANGER.

DANGER was underlined several times, so he was serious. Mr. Penguin concentrated.

“What do you mean?” he said.

“What’s going to happen?”

Mr. Chuckle laughed again. “You think that I’d tell you that? But I’ll give you a clue…”

He picked up the model of the Saucy Sandra and threw it to the floor, smashing it into pieces.

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