“It’s awful down there,” said Smoky Jo. “A mouse even crawled in during the night.”

  “I thought someone would come looking for us by now,” said Freddy in a small voice.

  “I’m hungry and thirsty both,” said Simon.

  There was quiet in the little gathering. And then Helvetia asked, “What do you think we should do, Roxie?”

  It was the first time Helvetia Hagus had called Roxie by her real name. The first time she had not said something about Roxie’s ears.

  “Well,” said Roxie, “a plane came by yesterday and a plane came by today. A search plane looking for us, I’ll bet. But it won’t know we’re here unless we give it a sign.”

  And what kind of a sign would that be?” growled Simon. “Where are we going to get a billboard ten feet high?”

  “We’re going to make a distress signal on the beach out of rocks,” said Roxie. And she recited the second paragraph on page sixty of Lord Thistlebottom’s Book of Pitfalls and How to Survive Them: “ ‘To attract the attention of rescuers, the unlucky traveler should make a large triangle of any available material and place in a location that can be easily seen from a distance. Do not panic.’ ”

  “How can we make a triangle out of rocks?” asked Smoky Jo. “The rocks are on one side of the island. The beach is on the other.”

  “We’ll form a rock brigade,” said Roxie. “Simon will go to the cliff and hand rocks to Helvetia. Helvetia will carry them through the sea grass to Freddy. Freddy will bring them down to me on the beach, and I’ll make a triangle on the sand.”

  “And what will I do?” squeaked Smoky Jo.

  “You’ll be the lookout,” said Roxie. “You need to hide up by the robbers’ camp, and if either of them leaves the tent, you give the call.”

  “What’s the call?” asked Smoky Jo. “The men will hear!”

  “They’ll hear, but they won’t know what it is,” said Roxie. “Everybody lick the back of your hand.”

  “What?” said Helvetia.

  “Make it good and wet,” said Roxie. “Spit on it if you have to.”

  The hooligans stared at her. Roxie demonstrated on her own hand, and the hooligans giggled as they slopped and slathered their skin.

  “Now,” said Roxie, remembering what she had learned from Uncle Dangerfoot, “give that hand a long, slow kiss, and it will sound like a squalling rabbit.” She put her mouth to the back of her hand and kissed, and the sucking, smacking sound was indeed one that Helvetia’s Hooligans had never heard before.

  “Why would anyone want to sound like a squalling rabbit?” asked Freddy.

  “To attract other animals that might like a nice fat rabbit for dinner,” said Roxie. “A fox, maybe. And then the hunter kills the fox.”

  In a matter of seconds all the hooligans were making the squalling rabbit noise, and Roxie remembered the times she would lie in bed on a Saturday morning, making those wild and crazy noises until her mother would come to the door of her room and say, “Roxie, dear, please! The neighbors will think you are ill.”

  At last Roxie held up her hand to stop the commotion before it got so loud that the men might hear. The hooligans paid attention.

  “Now,” Roxie continued, “if you hear Smoky Jo make the rabbit noise, pass it on to the next person. That will mean the men are leaving their tent and you have to hide.”

  So Simon Surly set off for the rocky cliffs. Helvetia set off for the sea grass. Freddy hid himself on the hill above the beach, and Roxie helped Smoky Jo find a hiding place near the robbers’ tent. Then she went down to the beach alone.

  • THE ROCK BRIGADE •

  For a long time Roxie waited and listened. Listened and waited. Then she saw Freddy coming toward her with a big rock in his hands. Roxie took it from him and carried it down to the watermark in the sand. While she waited for another rock, she looked about for any she might find there herself, and slowly—as another rock arrived and then the next—a triangle, the international sign of distress, Lord Thistlebottom had written, began to form on the sand.

  For an hour Roxie worked without stopping. Freddy hauled rocks without complaint. It was a large triangle—one that Roxie knew could be seen from the air. She had two sides done and half of the third when, from far off, she heard the rabbit cry.

  Roxie straightened up and looked around. She heard another rabbit cry, this one coming from the other side of the island, and shortly after that a third cry from the sea grass.

  But which way were the robbers coming? Roxie wondered, and where should she hide? Crouching low, she scrambled up the grassy bank.

  Then she heard the men’s voices.

  “What the dad-gum is it?” Rat called to Snake Eyes. “Some kind of animal, but I’ll be danged if I know what it is.”

  “Could be some kind of critter we’ve never seen before,” Snake Eyes called back. “Like some of those creatures down in Australia or something.”

  “Where the heck is it?” said Rat. “Sounds like there’s more than one. Could be all over the place.”

  “Might make a tasty dinner, if we could catch one,” said Snake Eyes.

  The small plane they had heard that morning was coming back again, and this time Roxie heard Rat say, “I think they’re after us, Snake Eyes. I think they know where we’re hidin’ out.”

  “I’m thinkin’ we ought to clear out, head down the coast,” said Snake Eyes. “Those deputies like to come in the early morning and surprise you. I’m bettin’ they’ll try to come here tomorrow before we’re awake. Well, we’ll just surprise them. Clear out and be gone before they get here.”

  Roxie made it back to the woods on the south end of the island, and twenty minutes later all five children had gathered and were eating the last of the sausage and cheese and laughing at the way they had confused the two robbers.

  They heard the small plane again, but just as before, it flew over the island and went on.

  “Maybe the next time we hear it coming, we should all run down to the beach and take our chances,” said Roxie, when an hour had gone by and the plane hadn’t returned. “Maybe we should stand down there waving our arms and yelling.”

  “Even if the pilot saw us, though, there’s no place for him to land,” said Simon.

  “And even if he could land, there would still be time for Snake Eyes to catch us and slit our throats,” added Smoky Jo. But even that wasn’t enough to stop the smile that was spreading across her face. “You should have seen old Snake Eyes when he got up to leave his tent and I made that rabbit noise!” she said.

  They all began to smile.

  “He almost fell over, it surprised him so,” she went on. “He couldn’t see me because I was in a thicket, but he was coming my way, and then Freddy, he gave the rabbit sound, and Snake Eyes started over there. Then Helvetia gave the cry from the sea grass, and Simon had a turn, and those robbers didn’t know which way was up.”

  Simon guffawed and made the rabbit noise again just for fun. Then Helvetia made the rabbit sound, and soon all five children—Roxie included—were at it again.

  “I can’t wait to try it on Miss Crumbly when she’s at the blackboard,” said Simon.

  “Try it on the playground!” said Helvetia. “We could get all the kids doing it.”

  Everyone laughed then. Helvetia brayed, Simon howled, Freddy cawed, and Smoky Jo squeaked like a mouse. And suddenly, as quickly as it had started, the laughter stopped, and all five children looked up to find themselves staring into the gleaming eyes of Rat and Snake Eyes.

  Do not panic.

  Roxie repeated the words in her head even as her feet pounded on the forest floor. Five children scattered in five different directions, and the roar of the men sounded like wild animals behind them.

  As Roxie ran she realized that if she were to hear a squeal or a squall now, she would not know if it was the rabbit noise she had learned from Uncle Dangerfoot or one of the hooligans being caught. She was surprised to find that she cared.

/>   She decided to head for the beach. At least if the robbers cornered her there, she could swim out to sea and take her chances with a shark. Better a shark than Snake Eyes and his knife. He would surely kill them all, for he wouldn’t want any children, if rescued, telling the police where the robbers had been hiding.

  And there he came, close behind her. A shoe came off as Roxie ran across the sand. If a bull charges, Lord Thistlebottom had written, do not panic. Throw away an article of clothing and the bull will probably head for that.

  Roxie took off her sweater and threw it right in Snake Eyes’s face. It slowed him for a moment but did not stop him, and his hand almost grabbed her as he lunged forward again.

  Then Roxie heard it. Her magnificent, wonderful, round, pink, sugar-bowl-handle ears caught the far-off sound of an engine. The small plane was coming back!

  But it was not a plane. Not a boat. Coming down out of the sky, like a huge bird, was a helicopter, and as Roxie ran out into the water to escape the robber, she saw a rope ladder tumble out of the helicopter till it hung five feet above the surf. And then . . . then . . . out of the helicopter and down the ladder came her uncle.

  • OUT OF THE SKY •

  Up in the sea grass the hooligans saw Uncle Dangerfoot too and began to cheer.

  Rat, who had caught Simon Surly by the throat, let go when he saw the helicopter and took off running through the woods.

  Down on the sand Snake Eyes skidded to a stop at the water’s edge and stared openmouthed at the man in the jungle hat and the safari jacket, climbing down a rope ladder toward the sea.

  When Uncle Dangerfoot reached the bottom rung of the ladder, he reached down and grabbed Roxie’s hand.

  Up, up she climbed until she reached the opening in the belly of the helicopter. And there, helping to pull her in, was Norman, from Public School Number Thirty-Seven.

  “Norman!” she cried.

  “Roxie!” he said. “The hooligans took my glasses, and I couldn’t see what was happening to you.”

  But the biggest surprise was yet to come, for when the pilot turned around to welcome her aboard, Roxie saw that it was Lord Thistlebottom himself, all the way from London.

  “When your mother told me that you were missing,” Uncle Dangerfoot explained, climbing back into the helicopter, “I called Lord Thistlebottom, and in less than an hour he was on his way.”

  “And then,” said Lord Thistlebottom, “your friend Norman here—a fine lad, indeed—remembered a terrible noise about the time you disappeared from the playground.”

  “So we put two and two together . . . ,” said Roxie’s uncle.

  “Four, as it were . . . ,” said Lord Thistlebottom.

  “And when the search plane spotted the triangle made of rocks . . . ,” said Uncle Dangerfoot.

  “. . . the pilot radioed back to us, and we knew it had to be someone who had read my book,” Lord Thistlebottom finished. “So out we came in this helicopter, and we brought Norman along. He said you had disappeared in the company of hooligans.”

  The helicopter was descending now over the beach, and sand flew every which way.

  “Hooligans, yes, but right now they’re in danger!” said Roxie. “There are two bank robbers hiding out here, Uncle Dangerfoot, and they said they would slit the throat of anyone they found on the island!”

  “By Jove, this is a jolly adventure!” cried Lord Thistlebottom, adjusting his cravat, and Uncle Dangerfoot reached for his slender cane, which could, in an instant, become a harpoon, a gun, an umbrella, or a walking stick, depending on the circumstances and the weather.

  “We’ll just see about that, won’t we, Lord Thistlebottom?” he said.

  “We’ll give them a run for their money—or should I say, the bank’s money?” cried Lord Thistlebottom, and he turned to his instruments and radioed the police.

  “Now, where are the hooligans Norman was telling us about?” asked Uncle Dangerfoot, opening the door of the helicopter and stepping out onto the sand.

  “There they are! Here they come!” said Roxie as Helvetia and Simon and Freddy and Smoky Jo, their eyes wide with wonder, dashed across the beach.

  One after the other, they climbed into the helicopter as Uncle Dangerfoot counted them off with a light whack on their bottoms with his cane.

  “What about them?” Helvetia said, pointing to Rat and Snake Eyes, who had pulled a motorboat out of its hiding place and were trying to make their escape.

  “A patrol boat is on its way,” said Lord Thistlebottom, “and those thieves think they can outrace it. We’ll see about that.”

  The helicopter flew on ahead of the speeding boat and began to come closer and closer to the water. The wind it created stirred up waves, and the boat tossed this way and that.

  Desperately, the robbers turned their boat around and went tearing off in the direction they had come, only to see the patrol boat coming toward them. With the police ahead of them, the helicopter behind, land on one side of them, and the wide ocean on the other, Rat and Snake Eyes jumped overboard and tried to swim away, but the jig was up, and the officers pulled them into the police boat. Roxie said she was sure that if the policemen searched the island, they would find the bank’s money hidden somewhere.

  “A fine day! Fine, indeed!” said Uncle Dangerfoot, beaming proudly at his niece.

  “A jolly good adventure, that!” Lord Thistlebottom added with a chuckle. “Jolly good show, Roxie Warbler.”

  Back over the ocean they went, skimming over waves and fishing boats and then, at last, over land. Villages and towns sped by below, and Roxie held her breath for fear the helicopter would touch the treetops. Over Hasty Pudding they flew, over Hamburger-on-Bun. Then Swiss-on-Rye, till at last she recognized the church steeple of Chin-in-Hand, and the helicopter began to descend.

  There was Public School Number Thirty-Seven, there was the playground, and there was the bright blue Dumpster waiting for its next load to take to the sea. And finally there they were, getting a grand welcome from Miss Crumbly and all the other children, cheering and waving a banner that said WELCOME BACK.

  The hooligans stared, for no one had ever welcomed them anywhere. They could not believe that the gingersnaps and lemonade were really for them, and even though they had not had a decent meal in three days, they offered the platter first to Roxie and Norman before they took any for themselves.

  But the best welcome was the one Roxie got when she returned home.

  “There she is!” her mother cried when Roxie came up the walk. Her parents hugged her so hard, she could scarcely breathe.

  That evening Roxie Warbler, freshly bathed and combed and wearing her patent-leather shoes and her best blue dress, sat with her feet on a footstool in the family parlor, a teacup in one hand, a crumpet in the other, and told Uncle Dangerfoot and Lord Thistlebottom, as well as her parents, all that had happened since she had been dumped in the sea.

  Uncle Dangerfoot listened intently, occasionally tapping his long slender cane on the floor. Lord Thistlebottom reached for another crumpet and smiled with delight as Roxie told of the trench, the rock brigade, and the rabbit noises she had learned from his book. Mrs. Warbler sat to one side holding a plate of crumpets, should Roxie want more, and her dad sat on the other side, ready to go for the sugar if Roxie wanted another lump.

  “Oh, it was harrowing, let me tell you,” said the girl with the remarkable, magnificent, wonderful, round, pink, sugar-bowl-handle ears. “It was uncharted territory there on the island, and our mouths had long since gone dry, but you will be glad to know, Uncle Dangerfoot, that I remembered all you had taught me.”

  And seated across the room was the little band of hooligans, all with teacups balanced on their laps, listening politely. They were known from then on as Roxie’s Warblers, for they had only good things to say about her—Roxie, the girl who did not panic, not one little bit.

  PHYLLIS REYNOLDS NAYLOR has written more than one hundred books for young readers, including her Newbery Medal-win
ning book, Shiloh, and its two sequels, as well as the phenomenally popular Alice series. She has also won Edgar Allan Poe Awards for Night Cry and Bernie Magruder and the Bats in the Belfry. Mrs. Naylor lives with her husband, Rex, in Bethesda, Maryland.

  ALEXARIDRA BOIGER is the illustrator of While Mama I lad a Quick Little Chat by Amy Reichert. She lives in New Rochelle, New York.

  Visit us on the World Wide Web www.KidsSimonandSchuster.com

  Atheneum Books for Young Readers

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