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"Ha ha!" he said. "You take me for a complete and utter idiot! No, you cannot be telling me the truth. My boys are under orders to let the lovely little waif alone. They would not do such a cruel or vile thing to anyone, I a.s.sure you."
"But I was there, sir," pleaded Graham. "I saw it all with my own two eyes! They put Jeanne-Marie into a great big grain-bag and hid her on a cart that they carried along behind them. The big fat one said he was going to sell her to a zoo! I heard him say so! He said, 'Old Mickey-D will never know what became of his little charity-case!'" As he quoted the line, he did his best to imitate the wartfrog's voice. "Please, Mr.
Lindsay, you just have to believe me! I'm telling you the truth!"
"Now, now," answered the troll voice, which was sounding less patient than before. "I know better. No one on my staff would ever do such a thing ... And no one on my staff would ever ... Wait a minute. Did you say 'Old Mickey-D?' My, my. Only Foreman Lambert ever called me by that annoying name. And no one but he would have the audacity to...." His heart pounded so loudly that Graham could hear it from across the room.
Then the troll-horse let out a couple of loud exclamations. "Merciful Frances of Grand Rapids, Minnesota!" he bellowed. "Judy in the sky! What a fool I have been to overlook it! Lambert has been trying to hide it from me, but he has been showing signs of resentment against that unicorn! I should have seen this coming. But you have opened my eyes, my boy. I have strived--er, striven? Er, I have always made it my strivence in these fields to ensure that every visiting child and family successfully explores his own particular creative abilities. I had seen so many fine qualities of leaders.h.i.+p in Foreman Lambert that I closed my eyes to his darker side. But I can no longer look the other way. It may not be kosher, but I am going to have to fight against my own right-hand man."
The ranchero started angrily for the door.
"Wait!" shouted Graham, taking on the role of the calm and collected boy with a plan.
"Wait for what?" asked Lindsay. "I'll wait for nothing until I see that lousy Lambert get his just rewards!"
"He will," spoke the boy. "Yes. But not that way!"
"What ..."
"If you try to fight all of those thugs at once, you'll just be outnumbered. I have a better idea. I know of a way to save Jeanne-Marie without anyone getting hurt."
"Then spill it, my boy! What is this plan?"
Foreman Lambert took the rest of the day off. He carefully researched the best place to sell a captured unicorn. He planned to get enough wealth to buy the entire farm and spend the rest of his days sipping strawberry daiquiris and conversing with MacDonald Lindsay about the joys of being affluent. As he sat and pored over the pages of _The Encyclopedia of Places Where Unicorns Can be Successfully Sold on the Black Market With No Questions Asked Except When the Salesman Happens to be a Mangaboo: Vol. 224_, he heard a peculiar clattering noise outside.
Fearing it might affect his own happiness in some way, Lambert ran outside to see what was the matter. The sight that met his eyes was hardly what he would have expected. There before him was a huge Ox tethered to a wagon. One wheel had fallen from the wagon, and the wagonmaster was jumping up and down, shouting angry expletives at the ox. "You filthy pile of oxtail soup!" shouted the young man. "You are as able to locate the proper roads as Dorothy was in _The Road to Oz_! Now just look what your lack of brains has caused us! You dragged us off the road, and now we have another busted wheel to bother about! You are just a lousy old coot!"
"Now, now," said Lambert. "You needn't speak so unkindly to this fine animal. I'll be happy to take him off your hands if he's such a ... a coot, I think you said?"
"Yeah!" begged the ox. "Let him have me! I can work on this big farm!"
"Not a cotton-picking chance!" blurted the human. "I need a work-horse to pull this wagon. If I had another animal, maybe a horse or a pony, I'd gladly unload your crummy old worthless hide in a heartbeat! But such beasts are sure to be expensive in these parts, especially to a stranger like me. And all I have are these forty-eight diamonds, a bag of square emeralds, and a couple of rubies to spare."
Lambert lit up and became more alert than he had ever been before.
Standing straight up and trying to look as businesslike as a wartfrog can possibly look, he said, "That is the exact price I planned to ask for a very pretty unicorn that I have recently acquired by perfectly legitimate means."
"Are there any other kind?" asked the stranger with a sly wink.
"Of course not." He ran inside to the closet and grabbed the bag with Jeanne-Marie inside. Coming back to his customer, he handed it over and greedily grabbed the precious gemstones. "Thank you, oh thank you!" he squealed gleefully. "And can I get that ox, too?"
"You can get me, all right," said the ox. "But I'm not sure you want what comes with me." Stepping toward the wartfrog and ramming his face against one of Lambert's tough tusks (which, consequently, broke off and fell to the ground), he broke off what became obviously a papier mache mask. Beneath it, he was actually the owner of the whole ranch, MacDonald Lindsay.
"Oh oh...." gasped Lambert. "Er, hi, master. I knew it was you all along. That is why I went along with your silly little game. Had it been anyone but you, I'd not have left my work for a moment to play such a game. But no harm done, right? Here, take these little gemstones away. I don't really need them. All part of the game, though, you know. Well, I do have work to do now ... Toodle-oo!"
"LAMBERT!" roared the troll in a voice that would have shamed the kingliest of lions. "You have no work to do here."
"Oh, but I do," said Lambert. "I must take this darling unicorn back to where she belongs. Oh, yes, yes! Please do not hinder us. I must get her away from here, where she is such a lovely distraction. Yeah, that's exactly the problem, my master. Gotta get her home now. Later!"
The troll placed a powerful and majestic hoof on one of Lambert's flippers. "Excuse me," he said. "But I told you that you have no further work to do here. Please pick up your toys and get off of my ranch. And take your disobedient helpers with you. Also, you may have as many milkweed pods as you can carry. I'll never let it be said that I am heartless."
"But, master!" stammered Lambert. "You can't do this! You mustn't! We've come such a long way already! I was up for a raise next year!"
"I'll raise a few things for you if you aren't out of my sight before nightfall." Lindsay was suddenly calm. "And if I ever see you around this innocent waif again, I will ... Well, I don't rightly know what I'll do. But you can rest a.s.sured that it won't be very much fun for either of us."
CHAPTER FIFTEEN:
CAN'T STAND IN THE WAY OF LOVE
"Well, now!" cackled the Witch. "You thought you'd seen the last of ol'
Allidap, did you? You were so wrong! Ha ha ha! Now I have you in my clutches once more, and you won't be escaping from me again, I can tell you! To think, you tried to trick me with a photo of some television star. But you won't be able to fool me again quite so easily, my little basket of nuts and bolts!"
The evil woman had chained Telly to a large black platform and was standing over him in a most menacing manner. "You showed me a picture of somebody else to make me think I was a ravis.h.i.+ng beauty. You lied to me, you electronic hunk of junk!"
Telly struggled to free himself of his chains, but they proved to be too strong for him. Giving in, he stopped struggling and tuned in to an old rerun of _Walt Disney's Wonderful World of Color._
"Let me see now," muttered the false Allidap. "I must think this over. I have to do something appropriate to punish you for your deceptive ways.
Maybe I should turn you into a candy cane and gobble you up?" She scratched her chin. "No, that would be much too kind. I must think of a punishment that is more fitting to a ROTTEN, MEAN LIAR such as you happen to be. Hmmm. Maybe I could transform you into a little brown wart on the left foot of a slimy old toad? Or a bucket of rotten peas? But that still seems hardly enough punishment for a creepy little crawler like you. Oooh! Of all the disgusting luck! If I had only been manifested with the ability to read! Then I could find a perfectly lovely little spell to cast on you that would satisfy my need to punish you!" She stalked to a nearby shelf which was covered with various bottles of herbs and tinctures. Each of these had a faded yellowing label, but none of these labels did her any good. It became clear to her that the inability to read was indeed a great setback. As she pondered an appropriate course of action, she heard a rustling sound outside.
"What is that annoying noise?" she spat. "Maybe your little pal Graham has come to let me capture him as well? I will make short work of him, let me tell you! He was a fool to come here!" She stepped lively to the door and stamped her way outside. "Okay, little boy!" she called. "I know that you are out here someplace! Come on out of hiding. Trying to trick me will only make it worse on yourself. Come to me quietly, and let us get this messy ordeal over with quickly. Being that you are so fond of reading Oz books, I think I will turn you into a copy of _Dorothy and the Wizard in Oz_. Then, as a book does me no good, I will toss you into my fireplace and watch you burn!"
There was no reply.
"I see," sighed the Witch. "So you want to make things difficult, do you? Well, I am willing to go along with your silly little game of hide-and-go-seek. But just remember, my fine and dandy little gentleman, that once I do find you, I will not be so lenient on your crummy hiding little hide!" As she searched the scraggly brush that surrounded her home, she grew more and more agitated. "You may be a pretty good hider,"
she bellowed. "But I'll get you in the end, you just wait and see!" She searched for a solid half hour before she decided that Graham was not to be found. "The little fruitcake must have run off in fear and horror,"
she determined. "Well, I will concern myself with his punishment some other time. Right now, I have the television set to attend to. I will miss my soaps, but I think it's high time I put that nasty old creep in his proper place. I think I'll make him into a nice bowl of lumpy spider-flavored oatmeal and have him for a snack." So saying, she sauntered back into her home. Once inside, she was met with a sight that made her more angry than ever. There, on either side of the platform which held Telly captive, were the two huge jungle-cats. The Cowardly Lion was trying in vain to unshackle Telly's chains. The Hungry Tiger, who had been standing guard, saw the enemy and instantly prepared to spring on her. "You'd better leave us alone, you yucky old Witch!"
growled the Tiger threateningly. "We are taking Telly to the real Emerald City to meet the real Queen Ozma. Once Ozma hears what you've been up to, she'll transport you to some place where you can never cause our beloved Land of Oz any further grief!"
"Is that so?" chuckled the Witch, quickly regaining her bearings. "I'd like to see the stumbling, demented child queen try that! Maybe I should turn her into a toadstool to show you that I am the all-powerful one here. Your foolish little girl is no queen! She's just a flimsy excuse for a bad one-liner. In fact, you know what I'm going to do to her? I think I should enjoy making her into a little sugar cube and drinking her in my tea. But first, I think I should take care of you little kitty cats. I have heard a story about a little brat named Sambo who made some tigers into b.u.t.ter. I think this tawny scrawny beast would be a fine spread for my toast. Yes, I think that should be quite delicious. And the little lion could become the toast! How delightful it would be to eat the two of you together!"
The Lion was visibly shaken by this idea. "I d-d-don't want to be t-t-toast!" he bellowed fearfully.
"And I will not become a pat of b.u.t.ter, either," added the Tiger, quickly springing on the antagonist and knocking her over.
The Witch struggled for a few minutes and finally freed herself, only to be knocked over a second time by the Lion, who had summoned up a few grams of courage in just the nick of time. "You pestery creatures!" she blurted. "You filthy rotten haggard beasts of b.u.mbling stumbling stupidity! I will see you both destroyed and I'll laugh about it, you rotten dirty crummy hateful old things!" Summoning in her rage a strength she had never before known, she hurled the Lion on top of the Tiger. Then, grabbing a huge net, she threw it over the two of them before they had any time to move out of the way. "Now I have you all, my dearies! All three of that foolish kid's friendies! And I'll see you all into your demises right now!" the Witch said in a whisper. She was about to carry out this threat when there was a knock on the door. "Oh, drat it all!" said the Witch. "Who could that be? If it's your silly Scram-Graham, I'll allow him the honor of watching me destroy all of the rest of you!" She went to the door. There, she saw a strange creature looking at her and wearing a painted smile on his face. "What the d.i.c.kens are you?" she said. "You look a little bit like a troll, but you have a horse's body growing out of your waist."
"I am a sort of horse-troll," he replied. "But that is not important right now. What is important is that this may be your lucky day!"
"My lucky what?" asked the Witch, not quite understanding.
"Is this the home of Bastinda Slinky Myrna Evillene Allidap?" asked the stranger.
"Er ... I guess so," replied the Witch.
"Splendid!" replied the ranchero. "And would you happen to be Bastinda Slinky Myrna Evillene Allidap?"
"I think so," she said, not sure she remembered all of those names that were being applied to her.
"Delightful!" said the stranger. "Then I am here, Ms. Allidap, to tell you that today is the luckiest day of your life!"