27-WHAT'S YOUR STORY？

WHAT'S YOUR STORY? By now, Trap was on his paws. "What?" he squeaked. "Are you telling me that someone has been playing games with us? Messing with our mouse minds? Pulling the wool over our beady little eyes?" He was furious. "What kind of low-down, slimy sewer rat would do something so nasty?" he shrieked, "Wait till I get my paws on him. I'll tear out his whiskers one by one!" Thea was just as furious. "I'll tie his tail in knots!" she squeaked. Just then, I heard a noise from behind the bookshelf. I leaped toward the shelf faster than a cat in a rat race. "You won't get away this time!" I cried, But when I saw who had been making the

noise, my jaw hit the ground. No, this time I wasn't frightened. I wasn't even scared. I was just surprised. That's because there wasn't a mouse behind the bookshelf. There was a teeny, tiny cat! Now, I know what you're thinking, Aren't all cats scary to mice? Well, not this little guy. He was not much older than Benjamin, and he looked like he was about to faint. He was clearly terrified of us! In a flash, Trap snatched him up by the tail. "Well then, what's your story, Fluffy Fur?" he sneered. "What's with the magic tricks?" The young cat coughed. He was so frightened, I could hear his teeth chattering. "W-w-well, you see he began with a stammer.