Read Online Adventures of a Cat-Whiskered Girl by Daniel Pinkwater - Free Book Online
Authors: Daniel Pinkwater
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He was a big, strapping, muscular kid in overalls and big boots. He had unruly sandy hair and freckles. All he needed was a straw hatâthe perfect picture of a farmboy.
"Diablo! You found Diablo!" the kid shouted. "Thank you!"
"What did he do, run away?" Molly asked.
"More like wandered away," the kid said. "Old as he is, he can hop over the fence, and sometimes he just takes off, strolling. Usually, I find him eating grass near his paddock. This is the farthest he has ever gone."
"Do you live on a farm around here?" I asked.
"No, I live in an apartment house about a mile away," the kid said. "Diablo lives on a farmâor what's left of a farmâup the road and you make a left. Nobody lives thereâthe house burned downâbut there is a shed where Diablo lives, and a little fenced area. I hike over two or three times a day to take care of him."
"What is your name?" Molly asked.
"Call me Jack," the kid said.
"Well, we have to be on our way, Jack," Molly said. "Glad we could help with Diablo."
"Where are you going?" Jack asked.
"Christmas tree farm."
"That's on my way!" Jack said. "Would you like to ride with your friend? Get up on Diablo. He can carry both of you. I'll lead him."
Jack lifted Molly onto the horse as if she weighed nothing, settled her behind me, took hold of the rope, and led the horse.
As I suspected, riding on Diablo was a good deal slower than walking, but it would have been too complicated to explain to Jack that we didn't want to ride once we were already on the horse. Besides, Jack was cute.
"So you live in an apartment and take care of this horse," I said. "What is that all about?"
"I always wanted a horse," Jack said. "When
Diablo's farm burned down, the farmer was going to send him to be dog food, so I asked if I could have him. I have to carry bales of hay on my back from the feed store up the road, and I carry buckets of water from the gas station. He takes up so much of my time and energy that I'm flunking out of high school."
"It is worth it?"
"Totally."
We arrived at the corner and the Christmas tree farm.
"I really appreciate your catching Diablo for me," Jack said after we slid down off the horse's back. "If there is ever anything I can do for you, just come a little way past the Christmas tree farm. You can't miss Diablo's paddock and shedâit's the crummiest thing on the whole road. If I'm not there when you come, I will be soon. And, it's none of my business, but why are you going to the Christmas tree farm when it's almost dark? The place is haunted like nobody's business."
"We have a friend who lives nearby," I said.
"And ghosts don't scare us," Molly said.
Not only was it almost dark, but a fog had rolled in. Everything was gray and murky-looking. Jack said goodbye to us and led Diablo away. They were swallowed up in the murk in half a minute, and we started along the driveway.
"Well, we got here before nightâsort of," Molly said.
"Did you mean it when you said ghosts don't scare us?" I asked Molly.
"Sure I meant it."
"Goodâbecause this is the ghostiest-looking place ever."
CHAPTER 23
In the Fog
It was hard to tell what was shadow and what was solid object in the fog. It was one of those greenish, greasy fogs, and when we were twenty paces into the Christmas tree farm we had no way to tell where we were. Only by continuing to walk in the direction we'd started could we have even a vague clue that we were heading the right way.
We didn't talk. By the time we reached the point at which we couldn't tell if we were still in the Christmas tree farm or had reached the woods, I realized we were holding hands. Then Molly spoke.
"Do you smell something?"
"You mean likeâ?"
"Like muffins."
"Yes."
"It can't be, can it?"
Of course, it could, and wasâa sweet muffiny smell, the smell you would get if you opened a bag of muffins and stuck your nose in. And there was a thick, darker place in the fog ahead of usâahead and
"Diablo! You found Diablo!" the kid shouted. "Thank you!"
"What did he do, run away?" Molly asked.
"More like wandered away," the kid said. "Old as he is, he can hop over the fence, and sometimes he just takes off, strolling. Usually, I find him eating grass near his paddock. This is the farthest he has ever gone."
"Do you live on a farm around here?" I asked.
"No, I live in an apartment house about a mile away," the kid said. "Diablo lives on a farmâor what's left of a farmâup the road and you make a left. Nobody lives thereâthe house burned downâbut there is a shed where Diablo lives, and a little fenced area. I hike over two or three times a day to take care of him."
"What is your name?" Molly asked.
"Call me Jack," the kid said.
"Well, we have to be on our way, Jack," Molly said. "Glad we could help with Diablo."
"Where are you going?" Jack asked.
"Christmas tree farm."
"That's on my way!" Jack said. "Would you like to ride with your friend? Get up on Diablo. He can carry both of you. I'll lead him."
Jack lifted Molly onto the horse as if she weighed nothing, settled her behind me, took hold of the rope, and led the horse.
As I suspected, riding on Diablo was a good deal slower than walking, but it would have been too complicated to explain to Jack that we didn't want to ride once we were already on the horse. Besides, Jack was cute.
"So you live in an apartment and take care of this horse," I said. "What is that all about?"
"I always wanted a horse," Jack said. "When
Diablo's farm burned down, the farmer was going to send him to be dog food, so I asked if I could have him. I have to carry bales of hay on my back from the feed store up the road, and I carry buckets of water from the gas station. He takes up so much of my time and energy that I'm flunking out of high school."
"It is worth it?"
"Totally."
We arrived at the corner and the Christmas tree farm.
"I really appreciate your catching Diablo for me," Jack said after we slid down off the horse's back. "If there is ever anything I can do for you, just come a little way past the Christmas tree farm. You can't miss Diablo's paddock and shedâit's the crummiest thing on the whole road. If I'm not there when you come, I will be soon. And, it's none of my business, but why are you going to the Christmas tree farm when it's almost dark? The place is haunted like nobody's business."
"We have a friend who lives nearby," I said.
"And ghosts don't scare us," Molly said.
Not only was it almost dark, but a fog had rolled in. Everything was gray and murky-looking. Jack said goodbye to us and led Diablo away. They were swallowed up in the murk in half a minute, and we started along the driveway.
"Well, we got here before nightâsort of," Molly said.
"Did you mean it when you said ghosts don't scare us?" I asked Molly.
"Sure I meant it."
"Goodâbecause this is the ghostiest-looking place ever."
CHAPTER 23
In the Fog
It was hard to tell what was shadow and what was solid object in the fog. It was one of those greenish, greasy fogs, and when we were twenty paces into the Christmas tree farm we had no way to tell where we were. Only by continuing to walk in the direction we'd started could we have even a vague clue that we were heading the right way.
We didn't talk. By the time we reached the point at which we couldn't tell if we were still in the Christmas tree farm or had reached the woods, I realized we were holding hands. Then Molly spoke.
"Do you smell something?"
"You mean likeâ?"
"Like muffins."
"Yes."
"It can't be, can it?"
Of course, it could, and wasâa sweet muffiny smell, the smell you would get if you opened a bag of muffins and stuck your nose in. And there was a thick, darker place in the fog ahead of usâahead and
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