“I bet he was selling jackalope horns to make money to cover his tracks,” said Wendell.
“That jerk!” Danny couldn’t believe it. “He stole money AND jackalopes? Man, I hope he goes to jail forever.”
“No, no, no!” Christiana waved her hands. “That’s not the best part! You’re not going to believe this! Guess where they found him?”
“Way!” Christiana grinned. “The nurse’ll tell Heidi, and it’ll be all over the camp in an hour. When I left, they were already making up a camp song about it.”
A door slammed. Danny looked up, surprised, and saw that Earl was gone from the craft cabin. A minute later, the sound of a car engine started over in the parking lot, followed by a screech of tires.
“What was his problem?” asked Spencer.
“Bet he’s worried about being named as an accomplice,” said Christiana.
“He’ll never make a lanyard in this town again,” said Wendell.
After that, there was only one thing left to do.
Well, there were actually a lot of things to do—excuses to make and sleeping bags to roll up (they never seemed to roll up as tightly as when they went in) and the big final trail-ride. Danny enjoyed this even more than usual. Bandit might not be as fast as a jackalope, but he was a heckuva lot more comfortable.
Danny was so happy, he felt like singing … just not the Camp Jackalope theme song.
But on the last night of camp, during the big final campfire, when everybody sang the camp song (all twenty-seven verses, plus two new ones about criminals on the girls’ bathroom, which didn’t rhyme very well but were greeted with shouts of laughter anyway) the four heroic jackalope rescuers slipped away into the desert.
They went down the canyon to the little hole in the rock and waited.
One by one, the stars came out—and then, just when they’d started to think that no one was coming—
“Look!” said Danny, pointing.
“They made it …” whispered Spencer.
“They did,” said Christiana.
The heads began to vanish, one at a time, as the jackalopes turned and loped into the desert. Danny caught the gleam of a familiar whistle hanging around one jackalope’s neck like a trophy.
In a little knot under the saguaro, four jackalopes waited. Two of them were eyeing Danny and his friends warily. The third was listening to Jack gronk and had a strangely familiar expression.
“No wonder Spencer could understand him,” whispered Wendell. “What do you want to bet that Jack’s the rabbit equivalent of your cousin?”
“Do jackalopes even get cable?” asked Danny.
Jack finally finished talking the other jackalope’s ear off, then came up to each kid in turn and rubbed his nose against their hands.
“His family,” said Spencer. “We did get them back! Oh, Jack, I’m so happy!” He hugged his friend, and the horned rabbit hugged him back.
But later, after the jackalopes had melted into the night and they began the long walk back to camp, Spencer didn’t look happy. In fact, he looked like he was crying.
“Hey, Spence,” said Danny, putting an arm around him. “It’s okay.”
“I’ll miss him,” Spencer said. “I know he’s a wild animal, and I know I couldn’t keep him, but he was my friend. And now I’ll never see him again!”
“Of course you will,” said Danny. “You’ll see him next summer. I promise. And the summer after that.”
“Definitely,” said Wendell. “You’re coming back, right? I mean, we always come back to Camp Jackalope.”
“Maybe next year we’ll get to be in the same cabin,” said Danny.
“You mean it?” said Spencer. “The same cabin?”
“If you promise not to tell me about any more TV shows …” said Danny, and the two dragons and their friends walked up the slope and back to the campfire.
Dragonbreath: Revenge of the Horned Bunnies Page 6