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politely. But, of course, if he wants to kill our mice, we can scratch him a little."

The cats didn't answer. They jumped silently in the direction of the approaching Uncle Lucas, and when they reached him, started to scratch him. Feeling on his legs, his hands and his face many sharp claws and seeing in the darkness many shiny green eyes, Uncle Lucas screamed in terror.

"Stop! Stop! You are killing me! There's some misunderstanding. Stop!"

And when this did not help, he shouted, "Stop it! What's wrong with you? I am Mr. Lucas Longfoot, Barnac's neighbor. Don't you recognize me?"

The cats stopped scratching him, but their green eyes stared at him stonily.

One of the cats asked sweetly, "Is it really dear Mr. Lucas Longfoot?"

"Yes, it's I, indeed, you terrible bandits," yelled Uncle Lucas angrily. "What terrible luck I have! What awful things happen to me! My nephew takes away my animals. He breathes my air. He puts his foot on my ground. Other people's mice devour my grain, my dear, dearest grain. And now cruel cats scratch my face, destroying my skin!"

"That was a mistake, of course," said one cat sadly. "It was dark and we took you for a scarecrow. We are very sorry, indeed."

"That's not so!" exclaimed Uncle Lucas angrily, feeling his face. "You can see perfectly well in the dark."

"But it's not dark tonight, there's a full moon," answered another cat, giggling. "It's light and, as you say, we see only in the dark." Lucas saw that he could never win an argument with these smart cats. He said, "I didn't come here to talk. I want to see Barnac right away. Immediately. I'll have him arrested, put in jail, taken to court. I want vengeance, and payment of my expenses. I want double payment. Let me see him right away!"

"Quite impossible," said one cat softly.

"Why?"

The cat pointed with his paw to one of the highest chimneys. Barnac was sitting there on the top, staring at the sky and purring softly.

"What is he doing?" asked Lucas.

"Our master is talking to the moon. He always does it when there's a full moon. No one is permitted to disturb him."

"What does he say to the moon?" asked Uncle Lucas. He tried unsuccessfully to hear a few words of Barnac's one-sided conversation with the shiny ball.

"Oh! He says wonderful things:

"O Moon, shining bright

In the heavenly night,

To you let me sing

Of many a thing.

Of cats' soft paws

Strong as claws.

Of the smell of a rat

Plump and fat.

Of the sound of a mouse

In the house.

Of cream warm and thick

Cats can lick.

"That's what he says," continued the cat.

"I can make up poetry as well as he can," exclaimed Uncle Lucas angrily. "Without even staring at the moon.

"Poor Lucas,

Where is your grain?

Terrible mice!

I'm poor again."

"Barnac will be glad to listen to you," said one of the cats. "But not sooner than in two hours, when the moon sets. Meanwhile you may have a talk with Johnny, the shoemaker prince, and with the dogs and with the bear. They are resting over there on the green moss."

"Ho! Ho!" said Uncle Lucas, angrily gritting his teeth. With long steps he started to walk toward the little group.

In the moonlight he was a strange sight. He was silvery and white, except for the scratches on his face, legs and hands. He was trembling with anger.

"Well, my birdies, so here's where you are!" he hissed. "We have to settle our accounts. Is this the way to act? Is this the way a loving relative behaves? Do you know how much I have lost because of you?"

Once more he counted over his losses, including the grain eaten by the mice and his scratched skin.

"And that's not all," he added severely. "Where is the help you promised your poor uncle? Where is all the good food you promised to find him?"

Johnny was a little ashamed, because he had not yet kept his word. And although his uncle was a wicked miser, Johnny should have done what he said he would.

"Don't worry, my thrifty uncle," he answered. "Sit down on the moss and eat this good sausage and this white bread and drink this delicious milk. Then, when you have rested, you should go home. You see, at dawn we start on a long journey. When we return I will bring you lots of beautiful things. I admit that it's my fault that the mice ate up your grain and the cats damaged your skin. But I will pay you back. I will make you a nice pair of shoes when I come back, and a beautiful jacket. I will keep all my promises."

This crocodile-boy is certainly eager to promise many things, thought Uncle Lucas, suspiciously. In the first place I don't trust him. In the second place I want to punish him for all the harm he has done me. And finally, I want to make sure he pays me back what he's cost me. He has something up his sleeve and he's trying to get rid of me. But I won't let him fool me.

"Dear nephew," he said sweetly, "I could never leave you by yourself, my child. I shall go with you wherever you go. I am going to stick to you. If you should find any treasure we will divide it between us. I'm going with you. It's settled."

Now, what a situation! thought Johnny desperately. This very thrifty uncle of mine wants to go with us. What shall I do with him? He'll be in the way all the time.

The dogs and Fuzzy pulled on his sleeves and whispered, "Please, don't let him go with us. Please, don't."

"This will be rather difficult," said Johnny with a sigh. "But don't worry. He won't bother us too much."

"What are you conspiring there in the dark?" asked Uncle Lucas, suspicious as always.

"Oh, nothing," answered Johnny quickly. "We are glad you are coming with us. But this is a dangerous journey. We might get scalped and killed. Should you, however, insist on going -- never mind."

If they get scalped, thought the revengeful uncle, I would like to watch it. I shall know how to protect myself.

"If that's so," he said decidedly, "it is my duty to go with you!"

"All right," sighed Johnny. "But let's sleep now. We have to get up at dawn."

He fell sound asleep right away, and Uncle Lucas, very tired, fell asleep too. In his dreams he mumbled, "My grain, my skin, everything mine..."

A loud purring awakened Johnny and his friends at dawn. Eight cats with bags strapped to their shoulders and additional claws tied around their necks stood there, ready to start. Barnac was with them.

"It's time for you to go," he said, looking with one eye at Johnny and with the other at Uncle Lucas. "And what's my dear neighbor doing here? Why is he so scratched?"

Barnac knew of course about the way Uncle Lucas had been welcomed. And, of course, Uncle Lucas knew that Barnac knew what had happened. On the other hand, Barnac knew that Uncle Lucas knew that he, Barnac, knew.

So Uncle Lucas smiled sourly and said, "A misunderstanding caused the destruction of my skin. But, speaking of these matters, I wish to ask my honorable neighbor for his permission to accompany my dearest nephew on his contemplated journey, although his destination is still unknown to me."

"That's quite impossible," answered Barnac positively. "If you were to go with him, I would be deprived of my neighbor. That would make me very sorry indeed. Besides, this is a very dangerous expedition. And, finally, most important of all, there's no reason whatsoever for you to go on the trip."

Johnny, the dogs and the bear looked at one another in delight. But, yellow with anger, Uncle Lucas said, stressing every word, "This boy is my nephew, sent to me by his father. The dogs are mine and so is the bear. Nobody has any right to keep me from my nephew. He has been put in my care."

"Here, on this estate," said Barnac slowly and threateningly, "I am the only one who decides what is right and what is wrong."

"But beyond this estate," said Uncle Lucas, "there are still other laws. I could, for instance, ask the police department to hand my nephew over to me. I could also tell the police that three fierce dogs are loose without dog collars or muzzles. That would, of course, mean a very unhappy ending for your adventure."

Barnac thought for a moment. Then he said slowly, "My neighbor has such a kind and polite way of asking my permission that I really can't refuse him. I only hope that if my neighbor falls into the sea and is eaten by a shark, he still will remember me with deep gratitude, even while enjoying his stay in the shark's stomach."

"With great, immense gratitude," said Uncle Lucas. He was gritting his teeth and thinking, I'll get even with you for all my terrible sufferings.

"Well, good-by," said Barnac the Cat. "Johnny is, of course, the head of the expedition. Everyone must follow his orders."

Not me! thought Uncle Lucas. I'm too old to listen to this terrible boy. I won't even consider it!

And they left with the dawn.

Chapter 5

 

THEIR WAY LED toward high, snow-covered mountains. Every hour the road grew steeper. The cats and Fuzzy enjoyed it, but it was less pleasant for Johnny and the dogs.

Uncle Lucas didn't enjoy it at all because he was barefoot and he was weak from hunger. Johnny was sorry for the old man who walked breathing heavily and whistling through his nose. He gave orders for them all to rest every hour, and offered his uncle rolls, ham, honey and preserves from the cats' supplies.

"May I do whatever I want to with this food?" asked Uncle Lucas.

"Of course," answered Johnny, astonished. "But I think food is made to be eaten."

"That's what you think," Uncle Lucas answered sarcastically. "Food is made to be hoarded." He slipped it into a bag tied tightly to his waist.

"I don't want to get used to these luxuries," he explained. "I prefer to hoard them. Then if you run out of food I will sell them to you for silver and gold."

"But what will you eat meanwhile, my thrifty Uncle?" asked Johnny in alarm. "You'll starve to death."

Uncle Lucas stripped a piece of bark from a near-by tree and said, "This is excellent food. The bark is fresh and juicy. You, Johnny, have still to learn thriftiness from your uncle."

Uncle Lucas can certainly make a person hate thriftiness, thought Johnny, but he kept silent.

The travelers pushed on. Finally the bear exclaimed delightedly, "This is my home country! I'm happiest when climbing a narrow trail on the edge of an abyss. You'll see how nice it is farther up -- snow, winds, big rocks crashing from tremendous heights. My brother bears all live among cliffs. To me there's nothing better than mountain air. It tastes better than the sweetest honey. And nothing is so refreshing as a strong mountain wind."

"That's all very well," puffed Johnny. "But the road is getting more and more difficult. The rest of us can hardly climb it. Besides, stones and rocks are hard on the feet. Much as I'd like to make sandals for the

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