Frognapped by Angie Sage Page A

like a mixture of Brenda’s gherkin soup and the cat’s litter box. Not nice.
    â€œWhere’s the treasure?” asked Wanda, who does not mind asking nosy questions, which I suppose will come in useful in the Spookie-Wizzard Detective Agency.
    â€œ This is my treasure,” boomed Sir Horace. “All my precious letters and keepsakes. Even my lucky rabbit’s foot.” He bent down and lifted out a disgusting lump of fur.
    â€œEurgh,” said Wanda. “That’s what smells so horrible.”
    â€œWhat about the coins?” I asked.
    â€œAnd the precious jewels?” said Wanda.
    â€œAnd the silver plates?”
    â€œAnd the doubloons?”
    â€œThe what, Wanda?”
    â€œDoubloons. Old gold coins.”
    Sir Horace shook his head. “Never had much in the way of that,” he said, rummaging in the chest. “Oh look, here’s my old knight school report….”
    We left him to it and went to find Barry. We still had a bucket of frogs to deliver.
    We passed Uncle Drac on our way out. He was sitting in the broom cupboard in his favorite armchair with his feet up. He had already started on one of Mabel’s—or was it Vera’s?—hats. “Hello, Minty, hello, Wanda,” he said. “It’s nice to see you back. Oh, my feet are killing me but it was worth it. Ho-ho.”
    â€œWhat was worth it, Uncle Drac?” I asked him.
    Uncle Drac chuckled. “I bet old Watkins that I could walk all the way to Old Morris’s mushroom farm. She said she’d eat her hat if I could. But I did it. Ho-ho.”
    â€œWow. How long did it take her, Uncle Drac?”
    â€œHow long did what take her, Minty?”
    â€œTo eat her hat.”
    Uncle Drac laughed. “I told her that I’d let her off if she told Tabby that I didn’t need her anymore. Which she did. Spookie House is now a Nurse Watkins–free zone.”
    We left Uncle Drac knitting happily and went to find Barry.
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    Barry was wandering around the garden, poking under rocks with a stick in a miserable kind of way.
    He looked up and saw us, and guess what he said? Yes, you’re right. He said, “Araminta, where have you put my frogs?”
    This was the moment I had been waiting for. “In the bucket,” I said, and I handed him the red frog bucket.
    Barry lifted off the lid a little suspiciously. I don’t know what he expected to find in there. But when he saw his frogs he smiled a huge smile. And then do you know what he said? He said, “I knew you had them.”
    Well . That was all the thanks I got.
    Wanda winked at me. “Come on, Araminta,” she said, “they’re only boring old frogs. Let’s go and do something fun.”
    Sometimes Wanda can be really nice, like a real best friend.
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    Later that night, when we had used up all of Wanda’s bike oil on Sir Horace getting him moving again, put his arms on properly, and cleaned off all the leaves and mud from the ditch, we were talking in bed in our Tuesday bedroom.
    We were deciding what would be the next job for the Spookie-Wizzard Detective Agency, although now that I am going to run fish shows I must admit I was not quite so interested in the agency as I might have been. I was feeling tired and I leaned back on my pillow. There was something hard underneath it. I put my hand under the pillow to see what it was and pulled out a small leather pouch. It smelled of Brenda’s pumpkin soup and the cat’s litter box.
    â€œLook what I’ve found!” I showed it to Wanda.
    Wanda lifted up her pillow too. I really hoped there was something there for her as well. And there was—another little leather pouch that looked just the same. “What do you think it is?” she whispered.
    â€œI don’t know—open it and see,” I said.
    â€œNo, you open yours and see.”
    â€œWe’ll both open them together, okay?