Snarf Attack, Underfoodle, and the Secret of Life by Mary Amato

Snarf Attack, Underfoodle, and the Secret of Life by Mary Amato

Author:Mary Amato
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Holiday House
Published: 2004-08-28T04:00:00+00:00


FIVE

Plunging

into Doom

Mr. Bob’s bony hand began lifting the lid. He was going to see all the gold and jewels gleaming inside! And when he saw them, he’d call the police. The police wouldn’t believe our story. They’d put us in jail. We’d be ruined!

“Don’t open it!” I shouted.

Mr. Bob almost dropped the box on his bony toes. “Why? What’s inside?”

My mind went blank. I looked at Orville. “Tell him what’s inside, Orville.”

Orville looked up at Mr. Bob. When Orville wants to, he can make his face look like one of those angels painted on a cathedral ceiling. “It’s just a dead naked mole rat,” he said.

Mr. Bob handed over the box.

I grabbed it, and we flew out the door.

“Let’s see what’s inside!” Orville said.

“No!” The wind was trying to send us up the Helpful Hardware flagpole. Although I was dying to see what was inside, I knew we had to wait. “What if it’s full of hundred dollar bills, and the wind blows them away?”

“Okay, then let’s run!”

We took off. It is very hard to run on ice in the wind. Especially when you’re holding a hidden treasure.

I was in front of Orville when a truck pulled into a driveway ahead.

I stopped. Orville crashed into me.

Before we both fell, I noticed the sign on the truck: L. H. K. Plumbing.

“We forgot the plungerrrrr!” I said as we plunged.

We had to turn around and run back.

“Now what?” grumbled Mr. Bob.

“We need a plunger.”

“We’re all out.”

“You are not. We saw them.”

“Humph,” Mr. Bob said, and shuffled away.

We got a plunger and ran to the cashier.

Orville pulled the five dollars out of his pocket.

“$5.01,” she said with a smile.

Orville looked at me. I looked at him.

I checked my pockets. Not one quarter. Not one dime. Not one nickel. Not one penny.

“Don’t you have a jar with extra pennies?” I asked.

“Sorry!” she said.

“Will you sell it to us for five dollars?”

“Sorry!”

“You aren’t being very helpful,” I said.

“Open up the box,” Orville whispered. “Maybe there’s a penny inside.”

“No!”

I was just about to give up. Then I remembered something. “It’s a good thing we had to clean the den,” I exclaimed.

“What?”

“See a penny, pick it up, remember?”

Triumphantly, Orville pulled the lucky penny out of his pocket.

The cashier handed him the plunger and away we ran.

Halfway home, the wind picked up speed. It was at our heels. It was nipping. It was barking.

Wait! It wasn’t the wind! It was Doom, our neighbor’s huge brown dog with huge brown fangs. He was nipping at MY heels because Orville was in front.

“Help!” I started to slip. I knew that as soon as I hit the ground, Doom’s fangs would be all over my face. My life would be over.



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