TO
MY WIFE
CONTENTS
| CHAPTER | PAGE | |
| I | The Galloping Snail | [ 1] |
| II | A House of Mystery | [ 11] |
| III | The Spotted Gander | [ 27] |
| IV | Admiral Pepper | [ 40] |
| V | The Man in the Storm | [ 48] |
| VI | The “Ghost” in the Kitchen | [ 59] |
| VII | Lawyer Chew | [ 70] |
| VIII | All Aboard For Pardyville | [ 83] |
| IX | No Automobiles Allowed | [ 90] |
| X | Our Meeting With Goliath | [ 100] |
| XI | The Runaway | [ 113] |
| XII | Dr. Madden Comes Home | [ 122] |
| XIII | Poppy’s Amazing Theory | [ 132] |
| XIV | Bit by a Grand Vizier | [ 144] |
| XV | A Scream in the Night | [ 155] |
| XVI | Getting Closer to the Secret | [ 166] |
| XVII | In Quarantine | [ 179] |
| XVIII | A Whispering Voice | [ 187] |
| XIX | The Diary in the Clock | [ 198] |
| XX | “Miss” Poppy Ott | [ 210] |
| XXI | Behind the Moon | [ 222] |
| XXII | On the Road Again | [ 231] |
POPPY OTT
AND THE
GALLOPING SNAIL
CHAPTER I
THE GALLOPING SNAIL
All fagged out, I dragged myself wearily from the sun-baked concrete highway to the skinny shade of a thin-limbed, thirsty-looking bush.
“Under the spreading blacksmith tree the village chestnut sits,” I crazily recited, kicking off my shoes to cool my blistered feet. Then I looked at my chum with begging eyes. “Get me some ice cream, Poppy. Quick, before I faint.”
Boy, was I ever hot! I felt like a fried egg. But scorched as I was, inside and out, I could still sing a song.
To better introduce myself, I’ll explain that my name is Jerry Todd. I live in Tutter, Illinois, which is the peachiest small town in the state. And the kids I run around with are the peachiest boy pals in the state, too, particularly Poppy Ott, the hero of this crazy story.
Poppy is a real guy, let me whisper to you. I never expect to have a chum whom I like any better than I like him. He’s full of fun, just like his funny name, which he got from peddling pop corn. And brains? Say, when they were dishing out gray matter old Poppy got served at both ends of the line. I’ll tell the world. If you want to know how smart he is, just read POPPY OTT’S SEVEN-LEAGUE STILTS. Starting with nothing except an idea, we ended up, under his clever leadership, with a factory full of stilt-manufacturing machinery and money in the bank. That’s Poppy for you. Every time. A lot of his ideas are pretty big for a boy, but he makes them work. Of course, as he warmly admits, I was a big help to him in putting the new stilt business on its feet and teaching it to stand alone. But his loyal praise doesn’t puff me up. For I know who did the most of the headwork.