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Authors: Walter R. Brooks

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BOOK: Freddy and the Dragon
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That Frederick Bean is queer

They'll take him by the ear
.

He'll shed a bitter tear

And shout: Oh dear, oh dear!—”

“Shut up!” Freddy yelled. “All of you.
Shut up!
Don't you know anything? This is addressed to Frederick Bean,
Esquire!
Esquire, not ‘is queer.' Esquire is a courtesy title, like Mister. Instead of addressing it to ‘Mr. Frederick Bean,' she addressed it to ‘Frederick Bean, Esquire.' It's a little more dignified that way, that's all.”

“And, boy, you could use a little more dignity right now, pig,” said the cat.

Freddy sniffed. He backed into the pig pen. “Come in, Jimmy,” he said, and the three went in and closed the door.

Freddy opened the letter and glanced through it. “H'm,” he said. “That's odd. Listen to this.” And he read:

“‘Dear Freddy:

It wasn't until you had gone through Centerboro that I heard that you were back from your vacation, and then it was too late to catch you. Will you come see me? I would ride out to the farm, but someone stole my bicycle last Friday night. This is only the latest of a series of thefts and acts of vandalism which have kept the town stirred up for the past two weeks. The state troopers have been trying to find the criminals, but without success. I think I know the reason why. The case can be solved only by a special kind of detective, and I believe you are that kind. I will explain that remark when I see you. I will also explain why I say to you: Come soon!
For your own protection
, come soon!

Yours truly
,

Mrs. A. A. Peppercorn.'”

“Now why do you suppose she said that—for my own protection?” Freddy demanded. “Have you got any idea, Jimmy?” He sat down on the bed and looked as if he might curl up and go to sleep again any minute.

The boy said: “No, I haven't. But I was only coming through Centerboro on my way to see you. I didn't talk to anybody but Mrs. Peppercorn, and I only spoke to her for a minute.”

“I wonder if it has anything to do with the way people scowled at us in Centerboro this afternoon,” Freddy said thoughtfully. “Have you heard anything, Jimmy—I mean about the Bean animals doing anything to make themselves unpopular or anything while we were away?”

“No. But people in South Pharisee don't take much interest in what goes on in Centerboro—they mostly gossip about their relatives or folks that live next door. Unless it's something big, like when you broke up the animal revolution.”

Jinx said: “Maybe you aren't as popular as you think you are. You expected people to miss you. But maybe instead of shouting: ‘Hooray! Hooray!' they just said: ‘Oh, here's that darn pig back again. I'd forgotten what a dope he is.'”

Freddy paid no attention to this, and Jimmy said impatiently: “Look, Freddy, why sit around talking? If you want to know what's wrong, why don't you go down and see Mrs. Peppercorn?”

Freddy yawned. “I suppose you're right,” he said reluctantly. “Come on, Jinx. And, Jimmy, ride along on your bicycle, and you can tell me what it is you want to see me about.”

By this time most of the animals who had come up to the pig pen with Jimmy had gone away, but a few rabbits were still hanging around, and they began to prance in a circle, chanting: “Frederick Bean is queer,” until Mrs. Wiggins, who had also remained, said: “Oh, be quiet!” and made a pass at them with her horns, which made them run off giggling.

The cow was Freddy's partner in the detective business.

“Anything wrong, Freddy?” she asked, as the pig and the cat began saddling Cy and Bill.

Freddy showed her the letter and told her about the scowls that had greeted him in Centerboro. “What do you think of it?” he asked.

“Do you think Freddy needs protection?” Jimmy asked, and Jinx said: “Do you suppose we ought to call a meeting and talk it over?”

“Talk what over?” said the cow a little crossly. “Good grief, there's nothing to talk about. A couple of scowls and a letter. You know better than that, Freddy. Go get some facts. Suppose you come to me and say: ‘What is two plus two?' And I say: ‘Four.' I can answer that because you've given me all the facts. But suppose you say: ‘What is two plus
something
?' And I ask you what ‘something' is, and you say you don't know. Don't you see that's just what you're doing now? A couple of scowls plus a letter that you don't understand. If you'd only—”

“Yes, yes,” Freddy interrupted, swinging into the saddle. “You tell me the rest tomorrow. O.K., Jinx? Jimmy?” And he started down through the barnyard.

As Cy and Bill trotted up the road to Centerboro, Jimmy pedaled along between them. “You remember, Freddy,” he said, “a couple years ago when I had that circus, and Mr. Boomschmidt lent me some circus animals so we'd have a real show? Well, we've organized a baseball team this year, and we want to raise money for uniforms; and we thought maybe we could have another circus. Of course, we'll have to charge money—we thought, ten cents—this time, instead of bottle caps. And so it'll have to be a pretty good show. And we wondered if maybe Mr. Boomschmidt would lend us some of his animals.”

“He would if he were here,” Freddy said. “But he's out in Ohio now. He won't get to Centerboro before late September.”

Jimmy said: “Oh,” and they rode along for a time in silence.

“We might have a rodeo,” Cy suggested. “Offer a prize for anybody that can stay on my back for a minute.”

“A one-horse rodeo?” said Freddy. “It's not enough. Anyway, there might be some busted arms and legs, and that wouldn't do.…”

The others made several suggestions, but none of them was any good. They reached Centerboro and pulled up in front of Mrs. Peppercorn's gate.

“Well, thanks anyway, Freddy,” said Jimmy gloomily. “Guess I'll ride along home now.”

“Wait a minute,” said the pig. “I've got a sort of an idea.…” He paused. “Let me think it over for a day or two. I'll ride over and see you when I've got something definite.”

Jimmy's face brightened. “I knew you'd think of something,” he said. “I'll be waiting for you.” And he rode off.

“What is this bright idea of yours?” Jinx asked as they went up the front walk.

“Haven't got any,” said Freddy. “But I hated to see him look so downcast.”

The cat sniffed. “He'll look downcast
er
when he finds that out.”

“Oh, I'll think of something,” said the pig, and rang the bell.

CHAPTER 2

When Freddy had gone into the detective business, Mrs. Peppercorn had been one of his first clients. She had lost her spectacles. She had hunted all over the house for them. When Freddy was called in, he found them at once; they were up on her forehead where she had pushed them and forgotten them.

Mrs. Peppercorn never ceased to marvel at Freddy's cleverness in finding them so quickly. She told all her friends about it, and he got a number of cases in Centerboro because of it which he wouldn't otherwise have had.

She became very friendly with the Beans and their animals. Jinx frequently came down and took her to the movies, and she was the only person in Centerboro who would ride with Uncle Ben in his atomic-powered station wagon, which, when you stepped on the accelerator, frequently took thirty-foot bounds through the air. Also, she had accompanied Uncle Ben and the animals on that first trial run in his space ship, when he had tried to reach Mars.

She greeted Freddy and Jinx warmly, and took them into the living-room. A little old lady with a very red nose was sitting in a rocking-chair, sneezing. She looked
very
old.

“Aunt Min,” said Mrs. Peppercorn, “this is Frederick Bean, the famous detective, and Mr. Jinx Bean, his associate. My aunt, Mrs. Talcum.”

Mrs. Talcum gave one final tremendous sneeze and said: “Pleased to beet you.”

“Sorry you have such a cold, ma'am,” said Freddy politely.

“Hay fever,” said Mrs. Peppercorn, and Mrs. Talcum said: “Cubs od every subber.”

“Must be very trying,” said Jinx sympathetically.

“Dot at all,” said Mrs. Talcum. She rubbed her nose vigorously with her handkerchief, leaving it even redder than before. “Sdeezig is—a … a … a—
chew
! is very edjoyable. I biss it id the widder tibe. Always look forward to subber ad a good bout of sdeezig.” She gave a cackling laugh which got mixed up with a fresh sneeze and ended in a magnificent “Cha-cha-
how!”

“That's true,” said Jinx politely. “I like a good sneeze myself.”

Mrs. Talcum nodded. “Two hudred years ago,” she said, “folks took sduff to
bake
'eb sdeeze. Dew how to get edjoybedt out of life id those days. Do do what's cub over people today. Parties ad busic ad dadcig, whed there's just as buch fud id a good sdeezig fit.”

“That's right,” said Freddy. “The simple pleasures are the best.”

“Hard to talk, though,” said Jinx, “when you doze—I mean your nose—is stopped up.”

Mrs. Talcum shook her head. “Odly letters you cad't say are ed ad eb. Two out of tweddy-six. That aid buch.”

“I'm going to take these gentlemen out and show them the garden, Aunt Min,” said Mrs. Peppercorn, and Mrs. Talcum dismissed them with a wave of the hand and a double-barreled sneeze.

Mrs. Peppercorn's garden was a mess. Flower beds and plants were uprooted and trampled, and in the vegetable garden evidently peas and beans and corn had been picked and carried off. And there too the plants had been uprooted.

Freddy stared around in consternation. “Golly!” he said.

“Exactly,” said Mrs. Peppercorn. “And this is only one of half a dozen gardens that have been raided in the past week. Moreover, my bicycle has been stolen; Dr. Wintersip's house was broken into, and a pair of binoculars and a set of Dickens taken; a lot of canned goods were taken from Mrs. Winfield Church's cellar; somebody threw a stone through Mr. Beller's picture window.… Oh, that's not the half of it. And you see it's not just robbery, it's smashing and destroying things just for the sake of destroying 'em. And, Freddy, you've got to find out who's doing it.”

“Me?” said the pig. “This is a job for the troopers.”

Mrs. Peppercorn shook her head. “Look at the garden a little more closely,” she said.

Freddy walked along between the rows. He bent down to see how the earth had been scooped and channeled by digging out the roots. And he knew what had happened. He knew what had done it.

“Look here,” said Jinx, pointing down to several clear imprints of small hoofs.

“I don't need to,” said Freddy. “A pig rooted up this garden.”

The old lady nodded. “Yes. And the folks in town think they know what pig.”

“You mean—
me
?” Freddy exclaimed. “But I've been …
you
don't think I—”

“No,” she interrupted; “I don't think you did it. That's why I sent for you. That's why I say you're the one that's got to find out who did do it. You've got a lot of friends in town. But there are a lot of people who are kind of on the fence about you. They say: ‘Oh, sure, he's smart all right. But don't forget: he's been in and out of our jail half a dozen times. And where there's smoke, there's fire.'”

“Why, sure, I've been in and out of jail. The sheriff's a friend of mine. When he invites me down for a week-end, I go. He sets a good table, and he's got a nice lot of prisoners, and we have a lot of fun.… Oh, I know, you mean that time I was arrested for stealing. But you know about that. Remember that man who pretended to be Mrs. Bean's long-lost brother, and she was going to give him a lot of money, and I took it because I knew he was a crook? And then when we showed him up as an imposter, I gave the money back.”

“You don't have to defend yourself to me, Freddy,” said Mrs. Peppercorn. “But there are a lot of people who never got that story straight. All they remember is that you went to jail. And then when they find it's a pig that has been tearing up their gardens, they say: ‘Aha! That Freddy, I bet!'”

“And here's another thing,” she went on. “Last Friday night Mr. Schemerhorn was up in the Big Woods along the back road looking for a lost cow, and he looked out through the trees and saw, in the moonlight, a pig, carrying a heavy sack on his shoulders.”

“If I'd stolen a lot of stuff in Centerboro, I wouldn't take it home along the back road,” said Freddy. “That's way out of the way.”

“Less traffic on the back road,” put in Jinx. “And you could cut down through the woods and by the duck pond without being seen. It's not much longer.”

“Yeah, but last Friday night we were a hundred miles from here, coming back from our trip.”

“We can't prove it,” said the cat. “After we got away from where folks knew us, everybody made such a fuss about our being talking animals that we ducked 'em, rode the back roads and cross-country. A few farmers stared at us, but how you going to get hold of them to give us an alibi?”

BOOK: Freddy and the Dragon
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