Never Use a Chicken and Other Stories Read Free

second voice, the one that replied to the first, was no more to his liking. It whined.
    “Sam, what are we going to do with a cat? I don’t even care much for the things and this one is ugly. Look at its eyes. And what do you mean, ‘money?’”
    Snapper wandered away. He was not happy, but his innate curiosity made him at least want to look around and investigate. He found a windowsill and jumped up to look out, pushing the curtains aside.
    “Leave them curtains alone, you rotten cat!”
    The whiney voice got louder and a hand swatted Snapper’s aristocratic behind, pushing him roughly off the windowsill. He ran under the couch and began to wash his paws while he thought about the situation. The other voice was laughing.
    “Don’t worry about it, Meg. This cat is going to bring you enough money to get as many new curtains as you want.”
    “Whaddya mean?” She was becoming more and more annoyed.
    “Ransom. I snatched the cat.”
    “From where? Who’d pay money to get an ugly thing like that back?”
    “From the cat show. Over at the Municipal Auditorium. Look at the ribbon on the cage. ‘Grand Champion’ it says. I checked around. This cat has been champion at more shows than enough. When he sires a litter, the kittens bring $250 each. That makes him valuable.”
    “Two hundred and fifty dollars! Who in his right mind would pay that much for a cat?”
    “Lot of people. I checked it all out. I found out the name and address of the man who owns this one. He’s got money, and he’ll pay to get his money machine back. We should have it all wrapped up in a couple of days.”
    “How much money?”
    “I’m going to ask ten…thousand…smackers !” Sam dragged out the words with appropriate emphasis.
    “You’re kidding! Ten thousand? For that? Sam, you’re out of your mind.”
    “Okay. Just you wait and see. They probably aren’t home yet, so I’m going to phone and leave a message on their answering machine, if they have one, and tell them the good news. It’s the only time I’ll be able to use this phone. They’ll get cops and have their line tapped; so after this, I’ll use a pay phone.”
    “Stupid! You’ll wind up in jail again. All because of an ugly old cat.”
    “Meg, I’ve got it all worked out. I even got a litter box and some food for the cat. Don’t worry about it, babe. We’ll get the money. Snatching a cat’s a whole lot better than taking a kid. The cops don’t get so worked up and there’s no risk at all. Trust me.”
    “It’s your doing. I don’t want no part of it.”
    “You’ll want part of the money, though, won’t you?”
    Before Meg could make a reply to that one, Snapper removed himself from under the couch and resumed exploring. He dodged the hand that reached for him and walked around the room, checking the furniture and the carpet.
    “We’ll put the litter box out here in the entry, and his food beside it. How about getting a couple of saucers down and I’ll give him some right now to let him know this is where he stays for awhile.”
    Shortly thereafter, his sense of smell undermining his resolve to stay away from those people, Berrybox Champion Gingersnap examined the arrangements made for his comfort. The box was unsatisfactory. He also turned up his nose at the soft cat food. He was used to kibble, low ash diet kibble, please . The milk was something else. Snapper was never given milk, but he stole some whenever he got the chance. His veterinarian believed that milk is bad for male cats because it tends to make them susceptible to bladder infections. The vet’s opinion did nothing to change Snapper’s taste for milk, so he lapped up the milk now offered to him with considerable gusto. Perhaps this place would not be quite so bad after all.
    Snapper paid no attention to Sam’s telephone call. He could have told Sam, had he been able to talk, what the voice on the answering machine would say, because he had heard it often enough when, home alone, he