03-CHEAP JUNK FOR LESS

CHEAP JUNK FOR LESS The next day, we went to the harbor. "So, GERRYKINS, promise you'll come with me. You are not going to let me sail off all on my own!" insisted Thea. "Don't call me GERRYKINS," I cried. "The name is Ge-ro-ni-mo!" Here's one thing you should know about my sister. When she gets an idea in her head, it sticks like a mouse in a glue trap.

Before I knew it, I had promised to go with her on her ridiculous treasure-hunting trip. And as every respectable mouse knows, a rodent's promise is nothing to joke about. "CHEWY CHEESE BITS!" shouted Thea, breaking into a dance. Then Thea showed me a boat belonging to an old retired sea captain. It was the color of cheddar, extra-sharp, my favorite. The ship's name seemed to be a good sign, too: Lucky Lady. My sister stared at the ship, then she winked at me. "You know, two sailors are really not enough for this boat," she said. "Do you know who else could come with us? Trap! He says he's an expert SAILOR!" My memories of my cousin Trap

Stilton, also known as Pushy Paws, were not very good. When he was young, he was a real nightmare. "Trap?!" I sputtered. "But, Thea, don't you remember when he tied my tail up in a knot? I had to wear the same pants for a week! And what about the time he dyed my whiskers with that purple grape juice?" But as I said, when my sister gets an idea in her head, there's no stopping her. Minutes later, we stood in front of Trap's thrift shop, Cheap Junk for Less. The store window was dusty and full of odd stuff: an old, YELLOWED photograph, a fake crystal that was supposed to ward off cats, a box of silver whisker-curlers, a superpowered fur dryer. We went in. As the door opened, it

triggered a bunch of small brass bells hanging from the ceiling. Inside, a PLUMPISH mouse with short paws and a pencil tucked behind his ear sat with his feet up on a comfy reclining chair. He wore baggy blue pants and a pair of bright-red suspenders. It was Trap. He leaped up and scurried toward us with surprising speed. "Well, I'll be a mouse's uncle!" he shouted, crushing my paw in his. "Long time no see! You two are always together, huh? Like cream and cheese. So what's up? nkledc. Want to buy something? Let me tell you

right up front: no discounts. Not even to relatives! cash only!" he shouted in our ears. "Is there somewhere quiet we can talk?" asked Thea. Trap led us into a library filled with books on every subject. Cats. Cheese. Cats who eat cheese and the mice who love them. The air SMELLED musty, as if the windows hadn't been opened since Christopher Columouse discovered Mouse Island. All of a sudden, we heard a horrifying sound. Meeeooowwww!!! Thea and I leaped up in the air.

"CAT!!!" we shrieked together. Trap rolled around on the floor in a fit of laughter. "Ha! Ha! Ha!" he sputtered. "That's no cat. It's just a tape recording. It comes on automatically as soon as someone enters the library. Pretty cute, don't you think?" "Adorable," squeaked Thea, ROLLING HER EYES. "Well, it does keep rat burglars away, and slimy sewer rats, too!" smirked Trap. "Hmm... I wonder if I could take out a patent on it," he added. I could just hear the wheels turning in his tiny mouse-sized brain. "I could make a bundle," he mumbled, his eyes shining. Then he turned back to us.