Runaway Ralph by Beverly Cleary Page B

over the watch to hide it before he faced Garf. “All right, let’s talk business,” he said. “I return the watch and clear your name; you give me back my motorcycle.”
    From the trampoline Ralph heard Lana say as she bounced, “Bad—dog—Sam! You’re supposed—to be a—watch—dog!” She stopped bouncing and began to scold Sam. “You’re a watchdog. Why didn’t you watch what Catso was doing? Why did you let Catso get that poor little mouse?”
    Garf thought awhile before he said, “Why do you want the motorcycle? The ground is pretty uneven around here.”
    â€œWhy do you want it?” countered Ralph. “You’re too big to ride it. It is mouse-sized, not boy-sized.”
    â€œI want it because I like to think aboutmotorcycles,” said Garf. “I push it back and forth and think about riding a motorcycle when I grow up.”
    â€œI want it to ride,” said Ralph. “Now. Back to the Mountain View Inn. I want to go home.”
    â€œThe Mountain View Inn!” Garf was incredulous. “That’s over a mile away. You’d never make it.”
    Ralph recalled the long and thrilling downhill ride. He remembered how he had thought at the time that he would never be able to go back up the mountain road. “Maybe you’re right,” he admitted.
    â€œOf course, you wouldn’t,” said Garf. He pulled the motorcycle out of his pocket and ran a finger over the front tire. “For one thing your tires would never stand the trip. They’re wearing smooth. There is still a lot of mileage left in them if you ride on floors, but they won’t hold up on a highway.”
    â€œOh.” Ralph had not considered the possibility of his tires wearing out.
    â€œAnd another thing,” said Garf. “You’d probably get laryngitis from making a motorcycle noise before you were halfway there.”
    Ralph was utterly dejected. “I suppose you’re right.”
    â€œBad—Sam! Bad—Sam!” scolded Lana from the trampoline.
    Ralph ducked under a leaf while some campers walked past. “What am I going to do?” he asked pitifully, as he emerged. “I can’t stay here with the cats. I’m a hotel mouse. I’m not used to living on weed seeds out in the cold. When winter comes I’ll probably die—if the cats don’t get me first. I’ve got to try to make it back to the hotel.”
    â€œYou should have thought about things like that before you ran away,” chided Garf.
    â€œI should, but I didn’t,” said Ralph coldly.“You don’t have to sound like a grown-up.”
    â€œSorry,” apologized Garf. The dinner bell rang, and campers began to run toward the dining hall. Catso, avoiding Lana with a haunted look on his furry face, darted from one hiding place to the next, on his way to the kitchen door. Poor old Sam, so conscientious and anxious to please, padded dejectedly across the grass with his tail drooping. He had failed in his duty.
    Ralph did not have much time. “Do we have an agreement or don’t we?” he demanded of the boy.
    â€œI have a better idea,” said Garf. “I’ll take you back to the hotel myself when my family comes to get me. They’ll be spending the night there before they come to pick me up the day after tomorrow. The camp doesn’t serve us lunch on the day we leave, so I know we’ll stop at the inn for lunch before we start for home. It’s the only place aroundhere. I could easily take you along in my pocket.”
    This offer was more than Ralph had hoped for. “But the motorcycle,” he persisted. “If I return the watch, will you give it back?” Ralph felt he would rather perish at Happy Acres Camp than return to the hotel without his motorcycle.
    â€œHow will you return it?” Garf was curious. “You couldn’t get it up on the shelf in