make money.”

“Aboatload of money,” Baloo said happily. Enough moolah ta buy back the Duck.

“You’re both nuts,” Kit murmured under his breath.

Molly pointed to a sentence. “It says here that you and Baloo are married, Mommy. Is that true?” Her eager gaze moved from Rebecca to Baloo, then back to Rebecca.

“Ha!” Baloo scoffed; he scooted closer to the door. “When pigs fly!”

“Pretendmarried, sweetie,” Rebecca corrected gently. “We just have to pretend to be a family to fool a judge.”

“We have to fool a judge?” Kit squeaked. “For a whole week? Oh, no!”

“Yippee!” Molly cried. “A whole week!”

“We’d better be getting back or Mr. Tannenbaum will be suspicious.” Rebecca started the car and pulled away from the curb. “Oh, one more thing, Baloo. You and Kit will be moving into my apartment.”

“What?”

“Why?” Kit asked, looking up from the entry essay.

“Because no one would believe that Higher for Hire is a home.”

Baloo bristled. “It’s me and Kit’s home.”

“It doesn’t look like a family lives there, and that’s what we’re supposed to be. A family.”

“But...but...!”

“You’re moving and that’s final!” Rebecca snapped. “Kit, we can move your bed into Molly’s room.”

“Oh, swell,” Baloo grumbled. “I can just guess who’ll be doin’ the movin’.”

“And, Baloo, since we’re supposed to be married, you’ll be sleeping, um...” casting a sheepish glance at him, she said quickly, “in my room.”

“What? Forget it, lady! No way, now how, you an’ me, uh...” Baloo’s face flamed crimson. He stammered, “Fifty thousand dollars or no fifty thousand dollars, the deal’s off!”

“You’ll sleep on the floor.”

“How come I gotta sleep on the floor?”

“It’smy bed. Besides, you can sleep anywhere - on a beam in the warehouse, in that ratty old armchair. It’ll only be for a few days.”

“That an’ fifty thousand smackers,” Baloo murmured angrily to himself. “Then me an’ Kit can deep-six this popsicle stand.”

They pulled up at Higher for Hire.

Getting out the car, Rebecca said, “Remember. Think family.”

“Think family,” Baloo scoffed. He slammed the car door.

“Andsmile.” Rebecca opened the office door, saying cheerfully, “We’re back, Mr. Tannenbaum. I hope you weren’t bored.”

“Not at all, Mrs. Cunningham.” He was in the exact same place that he had been when they left. It appeared that he hadn’t moved a muscle.

Rebecca placed an arm around both of the cubs and led them over to Mr. Tannenbaum. “These are our children: Kit and Molly.”

“Hi,” said Molly, grinning.

Kit politely extended his hand. “Nice to meet you, sir.”

Mr. Tannenbaum briefly touched Kit’s fingers, then scribbled something on his clipboard.

Kit flashed a questioning look at Baloo, who shrugged in response.

“I have an idea,” Rebecca said as if she had just thought it up. “Why don’t I show you the Sea Duck?”

“I’d rather the pilot...” The judge flashed a questioning glance at Baloo, who gave him a forced smile.

“I’m afraid that’s impossible at the moment,” Rebecca said apologetically. “Baloo has a downtown delivery to make, don’t you, Butterball?”

Baloo winced at the nickname. Between clenched teeth, he asked, “I do,Honeylips?”

Rebecca scowled at him. “Of course you remember the delivery. You know. The b-e-d.”

Baloo sniffed his shirt. “I don’t smell that bad.”

“My bed,” Kit coughed.

Finally understanding, Baloo said, “Oh...oh, yeah. Bed...er, bigdelivery to make. Kit an’ me gotta grab somethin’ from upstairs, an’ we’ll be back later after the delivery.”

Baloo and Kit raced upstairs.

Chattering brightly, Rebecca led Mr. Tannenbaum outdoors.

A few moments later, Molly, who had fished her Danger Woman helmet and cape out from the bottom drawer in her mother’s desk, heard a crash and a loud “Doggone it!” She ran up the stairs and peeked in Baloo’s and Kit’s bedroom. Kit stood to one side with the bedclothes wadded up in his arms while Baloo wrestled with the twin-sized mattress.

“Can I help?” she asked, crouching to avoid the mattress as it swooped towards her head.

“Sure thing, Button-nose. Go be the lookout,” Baloo’s muffled voice answered.

“Danger Woman springs into action!” The little girl hurried downstairs to don her costume and to watch the front door.

“Whoa-whoa-ho!” Losing his equilibrium, Baloo stumbled backwards, knocking the hula girl lamp off of the night stand.

Crash!went the lightbulb.

“Oh, man...”

“You okay, Papa Bear?”

“Help me out here, kid. Can’t see where I’m goin’.”

Kit ducked under the mattress and stood in the bedroom doorway. “Go right. Right. No, your other right.”

“Yours or mine?”

“Starboard. Yours.”

“Now you’re talkin’ my lingo.”

After smacking the mattress into the doorframe twice, Baloo squeezed through the door and came onto the landing.

“Okay, now hard-a port,” Kit directed, taking hold of the front end of the mattress to help swing it around towards the stairway. “Port. That’s it.”

“Tell me when we get to the stairs-airs-airs-aaaaaahhhh!” Baloo missed the top step and lurched forward. The mattress flew out of his hands. The big bear belly-flopped on top of the mattress that was rocketing downwards.

At the same time, the mattress knocked Kit off his feet. The boy did a back flip and landed on his knees on the mattress. “Papa Beeeaaaaar!” he yelled as the mattress slid down the stairs.

Pilot and navigator were flung off when the mattress crashed into the banister at the end of the flight of stairs. Kit landed on a rug and skidded across the office; he glided to a gentle stop in front of the old maroon chair. Baloo, who wasn’t so lucky, nosedived into a pile of crates containing bowling balls.

“Watch that first step,” Baloo slurred, dizzily sitting up; he held a hand to his pounding head. “It’s a lulu.”

Molly hurried over to Kit and helped him up, saying, “Can I try that?”

“No!” Baloo and Kit said simultaneously.

“Aw...I never get to have any fun,” she whined.

“Aren’t you supposed to be watching the door, Danger Woman?” Kit asked.

“Oh, right!” Molly resumed her post at the office door.

Once again, Baloo shouldered the awkward mattress with a grunt of exertion and staggered through the office and out the door.

“Red light!” Molly squeaked. “They’re coming, Baloo!”

Baloo set the mattress down on one end. Seeing no place to hide the mattress, he propped it against the side of the building. He leaned against it casually, trying to cover it as much as he could with his large body, while Kit tossed the bedclothes around the corner of the building. Baloo, Kit, and Molly flashed big, toothy grins at Mr. Tannenbaum.

“Nice day, ain’t it, Mr. T?” Baloo said.

Mr. Tannenbaum gave Baloo an odd look. “Was that there before?”

“Was what there before?”

“That mattress.” The judge adjusted his pince-nez and tried to see what was behind Baloo, but every time he moved in for a closer look, Baloo blocked the way.

“What mattress? You see any mattress, Kit?”

“Nope. Not me,” Kit said, crossing his fingers behind his back. “No mattress here.”

“But I could swear...”

“Let’s go inside, shall we?” Rebecca interrupted, firmly taking the judge by the elbow. “While Baloo and Kit make that delivery, we can go over those ledgers like you wanted to.”

When the door closed, Baloo, Kit, and Molly breathed a collective sigh of relief.

“That was too close,” Kit murmured.

Baloo picked up the heavy, unwieldy mattress and headed for the Chevrolette. “Just once I’d like to have the idea and see Becky do the work.”

The Cunninghams’ Apartment
That Evening

Rebecca stood in front of the stove. Her face was rosy from stirring a steaming pot of spaghetti sauce.

She continued to stir with her left hand. With her right hand, she picked up a fork and stabbed the vegetables that were boiling on the back burner. Seeing that they were done, she spun around and said frantically, “Kit, drain the vegetables and add butter. Oh!” She had just noticed that she was dripping sauce onto the floor from her wooden spoon. She hurried to the sink and grabbed a sponge to clean up the mess.

“Yes, Miz...Rebecca.” Kit hopped up from the table and headed to the stove.

“Molly, honey, set the dining room table,” Rebecca said, sidling past Kit with a sudsy sponge.

“Okay, Mommy.” The little girl put down her crayons and went to the silverware drawer, which happened to be right where Kit was standing. She pulled out the drawer, mindless of him and the pot in his hand.

“Careful, Short Stuff!” Kit exclaimed, jumping to the side and out of her way.

Molly stuck her tongue out at him.

“Be nice to each other, kids. We have a very important guest,” Rebecca said pointedly, scrubbing at the spot on the floor. “Use the good silverware and remember that the knives go on the left side of the plate with the blade facing inward.”

“I’ll help her,” Kit offered. He swiftly drained the vegetables, added a lump of butter, then hurried to the dining room.

Just at that moment, Baloo wandered into the kitchen. Seeing Rebecca on her hands and knees sponging up the mess, he teased, “Lose somethin’?”

“No, but I know of a pilot who’ll lose his job if he doesn’t get out of this kitchen,” Rebecca whispered loudly, standing up. She blew a loose tendril of hair from her face and returned to stirring the spaghetti sauce.

“What’s that?” he said, pointing to the opposite side of the room.

“What’s what?” Rebecca asked, turning around. She spun back around just in time to see Baloo stick his finger in his mouth. “Out, Baloo!” She rapped his hand with the spoon, depositing a blob of sauce, which he promptly licked off. “You should be entertaining our guest.”

“I’m tired of Mr. Nosey. He’s got more questions than I’ve got answers.”

“I’ll give you fifty thousand

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