Read The Curse of the Campfire Weenies for Free Online Page A

counter, filled with vegetables and a big soup bone. Mom must be making soup, he thought. With all the gold he was about to get, he could buy his mom a truckload of soup. Luckily, she hadn’t turned on the burner yet, so the pot was cold. Oswald dumped the vegetables in the sink and went running out the back door, eager to get the pot filled with gold.
    Raffi was still under the tree. But there was no sign of the leprechaun.

    â€œHuh?” Oswald stared at Raffi for a moment. Then he noticed something on the ground next to his cat. “Oh no.” Oswald recognized the label. He dropped the pot, bent over, and grabbed the can.
    â€œYou made a deal with him, didn’t you?” Oswald said, waving the can of tuna in front at Raffi. “You let him go for this. One stupid little can of tuna. And you can’t even open it. Unbelievable. You are such a stupid animal.” Oswald threw the can to the ground and stomped back into the kitchen—just in time to run into his mother, who was very interested in hearing his explanation for the sink full of vegetables.
    Outside, Raffi waited beneath the dogwood tree. In a moment, the leprechaun came walking out from under the bushes, dragging a can opener.
    â€œHere you go,” he said as he tossed the opener in front of the cat. “A deal’s a deal. Don’t pay any attention to that silly human. You aren’t stupid. Not at all. You’re a very smart kitty cat.” With that, the leprechaun chuckled and skittered away.
    Raffi batted at the opener with her left front paw. It didn’t do any good. Then she batted it for a while with her right front paw. It still didn’t do any good. Eventually, Raffi gave up and went off in search of mice. They tasted better than tuna, anyhow.

THE UNFORGIVING TREE
    I t was on a Thursday just two weeks after school ended that Ricky noticed the tree had moved. It hadn’t moved a lot and there were no obvious signs that anything had happened, but Ricky knew right away that the tree wasn’t where it had always been.
    It was easy for him to tell. He liked to stand with his back against the tree and bounce a ball against the house. He’d been doing it for so many years that he knew right away when something was wrong. Either the tree had moved or the house had moved.
    Ricky was pretty sure the house hadn’t moved.
    He started checking the tree each day. He measured the distance from the tree to the house. The tape didn’t seem to show any change from one day to the next, but Ricky could tell that the tree was getting closer. He didn’t mention anything to his parents. They wouldn’t believe him. He was sure of that.

    But he kept an eye on the tree. By the middle of the summer, he was positive that it had gotten a lot closer to the house. That wouldn’t have been so bad, but the tree was right outside his bedroom window.
    It wanted something. He was sure of that.
    One night, a branch got so close that it broke his window. His parents came running.
    â€œWhy’d you do it?” his father asked.
    â€œI didn’t,” Ricky said. He looked down and saw proof of his innocence. There was glass on the floor. “See,” he said, pointing to the shards. “It was broken from the outside. Otherwise, the glass would be on the ground.”
    â€œDon’t try to act innocent,” his father said. “That window is coming out of your allowance.” He stomped downstairs, then came back with a piece of cardboard that he taped over the broken pane.
    Ricky went back to bed and lay there listening to the sound of branches tapping against the side of the house. He looked out through the unbroken part of the window. There was no breeze that night.
    The next morning, Ricky measured the distance from the house. The tree was three feet away. Ricky hadn’t checked for a week or so, but he was sure that the last time he’d measured the tree, it had been four feet