Henry and Ribsy (Henry Huggins #3)(3)

“Three M eighty-five, stand by,” blared the radio in the police car.

Jeepers, thought Henry, I bet that means headquarters is going to send help. If the burglars get out and try to escape, I’m in a good place to watch where they go. Yes, sir, it’s a good thing I’m up here. I’ll be a lookout and keep my eagle eye on the door just in case any suspicious-looking people come out.

Henry slid down in the seat and peered over the edge of the car door with his eagle eye. He saw a lady with a baby in a Taylor-tot come out of the supermarket. She was followed by a man on crutches. They didn’t look the least bit suspicious. Wait a minute, thought Henry. That man on crutches. Maybe the crutches are a disguise. Maybe when he gets around the corner he’ll throw them away and begin to run. I better watch him.

Pish-tush went the grease gun.

“Thirteen L ten meet thirteen A nine,” blared the radio in the police car. Here comes help, thought Henry.

Just at that moment Ribsy pointed his nose into the air and sniffed. Then he trotted purposefully toward the police car. Now what’s Ribsy up to, wondered Henry, forgetting to keep his eagle eye on the man on crutches. The officer had not slammed the door of the police car shut when he got out. Henry was horrified to see Ribsy push it wider open with his nose and jump into the front seat.

“Here, Ribsy,” Henry called. “You get out of there!”

The radio suddenly blared forth. “Three M eighty-five, Second and Broadway.”

Frightened, Ribsy scrambled out of the car. The radio was silent.

“You stay away from that police car,” ordered Henry from the grease rack.

Cautiously Ribsy approached the open door of the car.

“You get away from there,” yelled Henry.

Ribsy jumped into the police car again.

“Ribsy!” Henry called desperately.

Ribsy jumped out of the police car. In his mouth was a brown paper bag.

Henry groaned. A dog that robs police cars! Now he really was in trouble. “Ribsy, you drop that!” he ordered.

Obediently Ribsy dropped the bag. He looked at Henry, wagged his tail, and tore open the bag with his paws and teeth.

Henry looked down at the pavement. It was too far to jump. Anyway, he had promised his father he wouldn’t open the car door. There must be some way he could attract attention. “Say, mister,” he called to Al, who was working under the car.

Pish-tush went the grease gun. Pish-tush, pish-tush.

“Ribsy!” yelled Henry. The dog looked up and wagged his tail. He had a sandwich in his mouth.

“Drop that!” ordered Henry. Ribsy swallowed the sandwich in two gulps and poked his nose into the paper bag again.

Henry hoped the policeman would stay in the supermarket a long time. He didn’t want him to see the thief who had stolen his lunch. Thinking it must be nearly time for his father to return, Henry looked anxiously up and down the street.

Two cars drove into the station, and Al hurried away to sell some more gasoline. Ribsy rolled what looked like a deviled egg out on the sidewalk. He sniffed it and then gobbled it up.

How do you like that, thought Henry. At home he doesn’t like the eggs he’s supposed to eat to make his coat glossy. Ribsy poked his nose into the bag once more. Henry wondered what happened to dogs that stole lunches, especially policemen’s lunches.

At that moment the policeman came out of the supermarket with a bag in his hand. He looked at the open door of his car. Then he saw Ribsy. “Here, you!” he shouted.

What’s he going to do to Ribsy? Henry wondered in alarm.

Looking guilty, Ribsy picked up the paper bag and ran between the gasoline pumps. The policeman ran after him. “Come back here,” he yelled, and tripped on the hose from the pump. Ribsy ran under the car that was getting gas. “Come out from under there,” ordered the policeman.



Al hung the hose on the pump, and the driver of the car started the motor. The sound frightened Ribsy into running out.

I sure wish I could get out of here, thought Henry. Why doesn’t Dad hurry up and come back?

“I’ll head him off,” Al called to the officer.

Ribsy, followed by Al and the policeman, ran around behind the station, where Henry could not see him. He listened to two pairs of feet running back and forth on the cement and wondered desperately what would happen next. Ribsy appeared from behind the station and raced around to the air and water hoses, where he dropped the bag and looked at the policeman. Henry did not know whether to yell or just slide down in the car and hide.

When the policeman was within a few feet of him, Ribsy picked up the bag, dashed past its owner, and ran under the grease rack. As the policeman ran after him, Henry was horrified to see him put his hand on the gun on his hip.

“Don’t shoot,” begged Henry. “Please don’t shoot my dog!”

Surprised, the policeman stopped alongside of the grease rack and looked all around to see where the voice was coming from.

“I’m up here,” said Henry in a small voice. “Please don’t shoot my dog. I know he shouldn’t have stolen your lunch, but please don’t shoot him.”

The policeman looked startled to see Henry peering out of the car above his head. “I’m not going to shoot your dog,” he said kindly. “I’m just trying to get my lunch back if there’s anything left of it.”