at the map, lying a few feet away on the bar. “Must get the map for Heimlich.” He glanced down. “Chipmunks.” He looked at the map. “Map.” He was truly in a quandary.

Gathering up all his courage, he ran across the saloon to the bar and scrambled onto the barstool beside Kit.

Baloo was saying, “There’s nothin’ like an ice-cold sarsparilly to quench the thirst.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty good,” Kit added, taking a sip.

Weazel reached a shaking hand over towards the map and pinched the corner between his thumb and forefinger. He quickly drew his hand back, shivering with fright, when Baloo cracked a peanut.

“We’ve gotta go, Papa Bear,” Kit said, picking up the map, “if we’re going to meet Mom and the girls.”

“All right, pardner.” He drained the bottle and set it down with a contented sigh. He picked up the shopping bag. “Thanks for the sarsparilly, mister.”

“Anytime, sir.” The barkeeper turned to Weazel, who was watching Baloo and Kit leave. “What’ll it be, sir?”

“So close! So close!” Weazel whimpered. He hopped off the barstool and chased after the bears. “Must get the map! Chipmunks everywhere!”

The barkeeper shook his head. “Odd little weasel.”

“That’s Weazel!”

Weazel trotted down the board sidewalk, simultaneously keeping the two bears in his sight while watching for chipmunks and Heimlich’s goons. All the while, he muttered to himself.

Finally, Baloo and Kit stopped in front of the general store where they met up with Rebecca, Molly, and Cassie.

“Just in time,” Rebecca said with a smile. “The show’s gonna start any minute.”

Kit asked Molly, “How were the horses?”

“They were great! The one I rode on was brown and white. What did you and Daddy do?"

Kit's reply was cut short by twangy banjo music blaring from the loudspeakers.

Weazel, who was right behind the von Bruinwalds, jumped and stared at the sky to see where the music was coming from.

Over the loudspeaker, the announcer said, “Ladies and gentlemen, Wild Will Hiccup’s Wild West Town proudly presents the rootinest, tootinest hootenanny this side of the Pecos. Get ready for the Big Bank Stickup!”

“Jack ‘Dead-Eye’ Bowser an’ his gang are robbin’ the bank!” wheezed an elderly actor, waving his arms wildly as he ran full-tilt out of the bank. “Flee for your lives!”

Men, women, and children in period costumes ran screaming throughout the streets and barricaded themselves in stores and buildings. One woman, an elephant, even ‘fainted’ and had to be dragged off the street.

Kit laughed when the old man shook him by the shoulders and said, “Better skedaddle, young ‘un, before Dead-Eye an’ his gang turns ya inta Swiss cheese.”

His laughter turned to confusion when Weazel snatched the map from his hands. “Hey!” he cried. When he turned around, he saw the thick tail of a short man disappear into the crowd.

Meanwhile, Weazel ran behind the crowd that was riveted to the mock bank robbery, towards the parking lot.

“I’m a-callin’ you out, weasel,” the actor marshall said to Dead-Eye.

“Ah!” Weazel yelped, halting in his tracks. Wide-eyed, he scanned the area anxiously. “It’s Jerry the Nipper and Mickie Finn!” He ran around in a tight circle, saying, “Gotta hide! Gotta hide! Gotta...eek! Chipmunks!”

He had mistaken the coonskin caps that Burt’s kids wore for chipmunks. Then, the kids, who were acting out their own bank robbery, started shooting off their popguns.

“Chipmunks with guns!”

Weazel pushed his way through the crowd to get to the one person who could help him - the marshall. He latched onto the actor’s legs, trembling with fear. “You’ve gotta help me! The chipmunks are after me!”

“What?” the marshall whispered in a British accent. “Go away, man, you’re ruining the show.”

“Please! I beg of you!” Weazel whimpered. "Help!"

From inside the bank, Dead-Eye snarled, “I’ve got a present for ya, Marshall Don Dwayne.”

The marshall trained his twin six-shooters on the bank. “Oh, yeah?” he drawled, cocking the revolvers. “Come an’ get the wrappin’ paper, you lily-livered desert snake.”

Weazel screamed when the marshall and the bank robber shot blanks at each other, filling the air with gun smoke. He took off down the street and ducked into the first building he saw. He stood, panting, against the closed door. When his eyes had accustomed themselves to the darkness, he saw that he was surrounded by metal bars. He was in the jail.

Babbling incoherently, he escaped the jail by running out the open back door. He stopped in the middle of the near-deserted street, doubled over, panting with fright. The map was clutched tightly in his fist.

Then, came a low rumbling. Mixed with the rumbling was a steady, metallic ‘chink-chink’. Weazel looked up when as sound grew louder.

The Bells Fargo stagecoach was headed right for him. Before the horses could stomp on his toes, he jumped out of the way and into a horse trough. A moment later, Weazel emerged, spluttering and coughing. “I’ve got the map. It’s over!” he laughed in relief. “It’s all over!”

He scooped up the map that was floating atop the scummy water, but when he fingers touched it, it disintegrated.

Pop went Weazel’s sanity.

Weazel let out a chuckle of disbelief. The chuckle turned into crazed laughter. “It’s all over for me! I killed the map. Heimlich’s gonna kill me! And I don’t care! Come and get me, you goons! I’m going to a nice, quiet sanitarium far, far away from chipmunks, maps, and those blasted bears!”

He climbed out of the horse trough. The dripping wet Weazel skipped down the street, singing lustily, “Home, home on the range. Where the weasels chase the bears all day. Where seldom is ‘round a map to be found. And I’m going nuts-y all day, hey! Just the crazy guys! Home, home on the range...”

Cape Suzette
Higher for Hire
Friday Afternoon
Day 7

It was a bright, sunny day in Cape Suzette. The von Bruinwalds had gotten back from their vacation earlier that day, and Baloo and Kit were unloading the car. Lugging suitcases and souvenirs to the house was hot work, but it was preferable to explaining to Molly why Goldie the goldfish had died because well-meaning Wildcat had fed it jellybean omelets.

While they worked, they listened to a baseball game from Kit’s portable radio sitting atop the car’s roof. The announcer was saying, “Bottom of the sixth. Two men out. The Sox lead the Cubbies three to one. Johnson checks the runners on first and third. The windup...and here’s the pitch. It’s going up, up, up, and it’s outta here! Home run for the Sox! And the crowd goes wild!"

From underneath the backseat, Kit pulled out a yellowed piece of parchment. He unfolded it and looked at the hieroglyphics, thinking,It’s the map again. Perplexed, the teenager walked around to the trunk where Baloo was picking up a suitcase in one hand and five sacks of souvenirs in the other. “Take a look at this, Papa Bear. I don’t remember picking this up anywhere.”

Baloo lifted his heavy load with a grunt of exertion. “Becky dragged us to so many gift shops, I can’t keep ‘em straight, either, kiddo.”

“But I don’t think this is a souvenir. It looks more like a treasure map.”

“Treasure map? Yeah, right. We don’t need any more junk,” Baloo said, staggering to Higher for Hire.

Newsman Dog Rather disrupted the baseball game with, “This just in. Uslandian officials have just apprehended Abdul Kazim for the theft of the ancient Babbleonanonian treasure map once belonging to Emperor Karat. There is sill no sign of the map, which was stolen from the Aridian museum by Kazim last Friday night. Dr. Myra Foxworthy, curator of Aridian’s Museum of History, has posted a two thousand dollar reward for any information about the map. Now, we return to the regularly scheduled broadcast.”

Stopping halfway from the car to the house, Baloo’s ears perked up. “Did you say ‘treasure map’, Li’l Britches?”

“You don’t suppose...?” Kit murmured, staring with amazement at the map in his hands. “B-but what would an ancient Babbleonanonian treasure map be doing in our car?”

Baloo dropped everything and snatched up the map. He smiled. “Makin’ us rich. Vacations might not be that excitin’, but they sure are profitable.” He hurried into Higher for Hire with Kit on his heels. “Hey, Becky, how's 'bout takin' a trip to Aridia?"

The End

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