Danger Guys and the Golden Lizard Read Online Free

don’t have time to be scared. Our friends are in danger, and we need help!”
    Everyone in the room gasped.
    Then, complete silence.
    Then, a wimper.
    â€œOh! I’m zo zorry,” the Dutchman said, peering up at us from under his hat. He looked like he was going to cry. “Yust don’t tek my qvarter avay. It’s not mine. It’s Mommy’s.”
    Zeek shot a look at me.
    And I thought the Dutchman was tough. Well, that was before “Mommy” came in.
    WHOOM! The back door of the room blasted open. And someone stepped in.
    Six feet tall. Three hundred pounds. Scar. Hairy chin.
    â€œMommy?” I mumbled.
    â€œWho wants to know?” she exploded.
    I could see Zeek staring at her chin. “I’d hate to meet Daddy,” he whispered.
    â€œWhat are you kids doing in Maribo?” growled Mommy. “Don’t you know jungles are for grown-ups?”
    Zeek stepped forward again. “But we’re here looking for the Golden—”
    â€œZEEEEEEEK!” I shouted. I looked around for some mustard to squirt. Nothing.
    Everyone in the room tensed up and leaned closer to listen to Zeek.
    Mommy eyed him suspiciously. “Golden, you said? Golden what ?”
    Zeek glared at me. I was drawing a blank. Then, he did an incredible thing. “Golden … um … Cracklies! Yeah, that’s it! We’re looking for some Golden Cracklies cereal. Boy, are we hungry! You know how the commercial goes—
    â€œThey’re crackly, they’re crispy!
The flavor’s strong not wispy!
They’re light and yet they’re bold,
    So bold!
The color is like—bum-bum—GOLD!”
    Zeek can’t sing. With him, it’s like a weapon. It hurt my ears. Mommy looked as if she’d just been told she had to go on a diet. She was quivering all over. And the Dutchman started to wimper again.
    But at least Zeekie didn’t give away the secret.
    Suddenly, from across the room, a guy with a thin mustache that looked like dirt on his lip slithered toward us.
    Zeek nudged me. “Psst, Nood. He’s wearing a black suit! He’s one of the guys who kidnapped the Emersons!”
    Yeah, it was the one with the dirty lip. “I seen you two kids at the airport. I know what you’re looking for, and it ain’t cereal. If you want to see a certain couple of husband-and-wife explorers again, you’d better come with me. My boss don’t like to be kept waiting!”
    The guy’s dirty lip started to twitch.
    Zeek grabbed my arm. “He’s talking about the Emersons. What should we do?”
    Before I could think of something brilliant, Mommy stomped over to the dirty lip guy. “Bug off, small fry! Come back when you grow a real mustache—like mine!”
    Then she swung out her big stomach and— boing! —knocked Dirty Lip clear out of the Maribo Palace and into the dusty street.
    I turned to the big woman and smiled. “Hey, thanks!”
    â€œSure, kid,” she said. “We don’t like nobody picking on nobody. It’s the code of the jungle. Besides, I like you two little critters. You got spunk.”
    Suddenly— RRRROOOWWWW! A shiny black 4 x 4 Jungle Rover came zooming into the clearing. It skidded to a stop in front of the palace. Dirty Lip ran up to it.
    The short guy with pudgy fingers opened the car door, listened to Dirty Lip, and pointed at us.
    â€œIt’s them!” cried Zeek. “They’re after us!”
    â€œYee-ha!” screeched Mommy. “Looks like we got ourselves a chase! Come on, boys!”
    Then she picked us up by our supply belts, bounced out the back door, and tossed us into a rusty old Jeep.
    â€œHold on to your hats!” she called out, starting up the Jeep and slamming her foot to the floor.
    â€œI just lost my hat!” shouted Zeek.
    â€œThen hold on to your heads!”
    And we sprang across the grassy clearing and plunged into the