Mr. Pudgins (Nancy Pearl's Book Crush Rediscoveries) by Carlsen Ruth Christoffer

Author:Carlsen, Ruth Christoffer [Carlsen, Ruth Christoffer]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Two Lions
Published: 2015-05-25T16:00:00+00:00

Crash, bang! Mr. Pudgins came running. “Any damage?”

“This pan is all right,” said Janey.

“So is this cake tin,” said Petey.

“The pans are all okay, but is the train all right?” I asked.

Mr. Pudgins looked at the engine very closely and then put it back on the track. “Everything is all set, but you’d better change that curve, Janey. It’s too sharp.”

We left Janey fixing her curve and followed the train into the bedroom. It would disappear under the bed once, then under the bed again. Whoosh! It was gone in the closet. Every now and then it whistled. And then suddenly it appeared to run under the beds again. Petey wanted to let it run and run in this room, but I insisted we try the kitchen again.

“Are you ready, Jane?”

“All set. Come ahead,” Janey called back.

So we threw the switch, and the little train chugged down the hall and into the kitchen. This time there was no accident. We kept running from room to room and having a wonderful time chasing the train. By now it was carrying some small Lincoln logs, a load of beads, and a few assorted Tinker Toys. Suddenly Mr. Pudgins remarked, “Children, does it seem to you to be getting dark?”

We looked up. Something was wrong. A heavy dark cloud seemed to be lying next to the ceiling and slowly settling.

“Bouncing butterballs!” said Mr. Pudgins. He always said that when he really was surprised.

“Is something wrong?” asked Janey.

“When you had that accident . . .” said Mr. Pudgins.

“Oh, my!” said Petey.

“Yes, we must have knocked the smoke pill back with the fuel pill, and it’s burning up too fast. Not that this is like real smoke, but it’s getting dark.”

“I can’t see very well,” I said.

“Catch the train,” ordered Mr. Pudgins.

“There it goes,” said Janey. “I . . . I think.” The smoke was really down upon us now.

“I don’t see it,” said Petey.

“Neither do I,” said I.

“Now don’t get excited,” said Mr. Pudgins.

“It’s getting awfully thick,” wailed Petey. “Where are you, Janey?”

It really was getting thick. I couldn’t see my hand when I held it out straight before me. “Johnny,” said Mr. Pudgins’s voice in the smoke.

“Here I am, Mr. Pudgins,” I answered.

“Johnny, grab Janey’s hand; and Jane, you find Pete. Now if I can just find Johnny.”

I stumbled around and bumped my head on the floor lamp, then whammed against the end table. I was more cautious after that. Finally, I bumped into Jane. She had corraled Pete. We stumbled around some more, and suddenly out of the dark came a hand that grabbed my collar. It was Mr. Pudgins’s. All during this time we would hear a faint whistle now and then. Once something shot out of the dark and right past me. I jumped. Petey yelled, “There she goes.” But we were too late. It was gone.

“Now,” said Mr. Pudgins, “we must have a plan.”

“Oh my,” said Janey, “it’s awfully dark.”

“I hear it,” yelled Petey. He seemed to think that the dark made us slightly deaf.

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