The Berenstain Bears in the Wax Museum Read Free Page B

they could see that they were in an enormous room, like a huge cavern.
    â€œWow,” said Fred, peering around. “Whatever it is, it’s a whole lot bigger than the school auditorium …”
    â€œIt must be the Screaming Room,” said Brother. “You know—the horror movie palace.”
    â€œOf course!” said Fred. “Whoa, what’s that?”
    Brother felt Fred press against him, trembling. When he looked up to where Fred was pointing, he got a little trembly himself. But as his eyes got used to the darkness, he relaxed. “It’s just the balcony,” he said.

    â€œBut it’s also Bearzilla, the monster!” cried Fred. “It’s like he’s holding up the balcony!”
    â€œCool!” said Brother. “And that’s not all. Look at the walls. Murals all over ’em!”
    â€œBearcula!” said Fred. “And the Frankenbear Monster!”
    â€œAnd the Wolf Bear!” said Brother.
    â€œI can’t take this,” said Fred. “Let’s get out of here!” He made a move for the propped-open door, but Brother grabbed his arm. “Lemme go!” protested Fred.
    â€œWe can’t turn back now,” Brother scolded. He pointed at a rectangle outlined by yellow light under a red-glowing exit sign. “Look. There’s a side door. It must lead into another part of the building. I say we check it out.”
    â€œAnd I still say we get out of here—” Fred started to say.
    But just then, the cubs heard the high-pitched beeping of a truck backing up to the propped-open door. Its shadow deepened the darkness in the Screaming Room.
    â€œOn second thought,” said Fred, “let’s check out that side door …”
    The cubs hurried to the exit and slipped through into a dimly lit hallway. On the wall before them were the words WAX MUSEUM , with an arrow pointing to an exit at the far end of the hallway.

    â€œAll right!” said Brother. “Now we’re in business!”
    â€œNot exactly,” said Fred, still a little trembly. “Madame Bearsaud’s in business. We’re trespassing!”
    â€œNo, we’re not,” said Brother with another wink. “We forgot our trespassing poles, remember? Come on.”

    When the cubs went through the far exit into the wax museum, they almost panicked. The brighter light blinded them for an instant, and they could hear the sounds of workbears moving heavy objects. Fortunately, Brother spied an old barrel lying on its side in the nearest corner. They hurried over to it and crept inside.
    â€œYou think they saw us?” whispered Fred.
    â€œNah,” said Brother. “We’re in great shape. This is the perfect hiding place.”
    â€œSure, it’s a great hiding place,” whispered Fred. “But we can’t see anything!”
    â€œOh, yeah?” said Brother. “Check out this little knothole …”
    Sure enough, there was a tiny knothole in the barrel wall right at eye level. And it faced out into the wax museum.
    â€œCool,” said Brother, peering through the hole. “Here come some workbears carrying something. It’s a wax statue in a fancy gown … I bet that’s Queen Elizabear.”
    â€œLet me see,” said Fred, pressing one of the lenses of his glasses against the knothole. “They’ve put Queen Elizabear right in the middle of the room. Hey, wait a minute—if that’s Queen Elizabear, where are her crown jewels?”
    â€œMadame Bearsaud probably keeps them in a safe when the museum’s closed,” said Brother.
    â€œOh, right,” said Fred. “Hey, there are other statues out there; the workbears must have brought them in before we got here. Blackbear the Pirate! He’s holding a cutlass … and Bearjamin Franklin’s holding a kite … and—uh-oh, they must have dropped one of the wax figures. It’s lying flat on