Selby Supersnoop Read online

  ‘You did.’

  ‘Come to think of it, I did,’ the doctor chuckled.

  ‘Well, it wasn’t funny then and it isn’t funny now.’

  ‘But you used to tell me how funny it was.’

  ‘I was being polite,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘But it isn’t the message on this postcard I wanted you to see; it’s the stamp.’

  Dr Trifle looked at the stamp.

  ‘Hmmm,’ he hmmmed. ‘It’s a triangle with a picture of flying ducks on it and it says “Newfoundland” and “Two Pence” on the bottom. It’s a strange one, all right. It could be worth a fortune.’

  ‘A double fortune,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘The ducks were printed upside down by mistake. An old stamp with a mistake on it must be very, very rare and very, very valuable. Let’s take it to a stamp expert and see how much it’s worth.’

  ‘Speaking of corny old jokes,’ Dr Trifle said. ‘Our comedian friend Gary Gaggs is a bit of a stamp-nut and we’re going to his comedy show tomorrow night, remember? Maybe he can come back here afterwards and tell us what the stamp is worth.’

  ‘Good idea.’

  That night, when the Trifles were safely in bed, Selby crept into the study and had a good look at the stamp.

  ‘What a great find!’ he thought. ‘I wonder if the Trifles are going to sell it? I’d sell it in a second! Wow, all that money! Goody, goody! What a great holiday they could have!’

  The next day everyone in Bogusville had heard about the rare stamp. Soon there were newspaper people and TV crews knocking at the door to interview the Trifles and to take pictures of the postcard.

  ‘I don’t like everyone knowing that there’s something so valuable in the house,’ Dr Trifle said that evening. ‘Someone might break in and steal it. And we can’t insure it because we still don’t know how much it’s worth. Maybe we should have kept it secret for a few days.’

  ‘Don’t worry, dear. I’ll put it in our bank vault tomorrow. In the meantime, I’m sure it’ll be fine right here in this book.’

  That evening the Trifles went to Gary Gaggs’ comedy show and Selby stayed at home.

  ‘This rare stamp business was so exciting at first,’ Selby thought, ‘but now it gives me the shivers. I hope nothing happens while the Trifles are away.’

  No sooner did these words trickle through Selby’s brain than there was the crash and tinkle of breaking glass in the other room.

  ‘What was that?’ Selby wondered. ‘Could it be someone breaking in?’

  It could and it was: into the study climbed two men wearing black burglar masks. Selby ducked out of sight around the corner before they noticed him.

  ‘Is this the place?’ one of the burglars asked the other.

  ‘Yeah, this is it all right,’ the other said.

  ‘Okay, let’s get to work and find that stamp.’

  Selby heard the burglars pulling books from the shelves.

  ‘I found the postcard!’ one of the men said, finally. ‘We’re rich! Come on, let’s get out of here!’

  ‘Oh, no!’ Selby thought. ‘The Trifles are about to lose the stamp! I can’t let this happen!’

  Suddenly Selby remembered an article he’d seen about burglaries and burglar alarms.

  ‘Some of the best burglar alarms are the ones that have recorded voices,’ he remembered. ‘They yell things out and the burglars think that someone’s at home and go running off.’

  Just as the burglars turned to go back out the window, Selby yelled out the first thing that popped into his head: ‘All right, you two! This is the police! Come out of that room with your hands up!’

  ‘The cops!’ one of the burglars whispered.

  ‘It can’t be!’ the other one whispered.

  ‘It is. They must be in the lounge room.’

  ‘Okay, don’t shoot! We give up!’ the first one called out.

  Slowly the burglars came into the lounge room with their hands in the air. One of them was holding the postcard.

  ‘Oops! I did it wrong,’ Selby thought. ‘I should have just told them to drop the postcard and get out! What do I do now?’

  The burglars looked around the room and then one of them put his hands down and started laughing. He went over to Selby and patted him on the head.

  ‘What’s so funny?’ the other one asked.

  ‘You, you dummy. Can’t you see there’s no one here but this dog?’

  ‘So where are the cops?’

  ‘There aren’t any cops. It’s just one of those stupid burglar alarms. Someone put the wrong message on it. They should have said, “Get out before I call the police,” or something like that. What a ninny!’

  Suddenly Selby remembered something else from the burglar article.

  ‘The best burglar alarm is a dog,’ he remembered. ‘Hey, That’s me! I’m a dog! I’m a burglar alarm! I should be barking and snarling and biting and all those other dog-like things! But wait, if I do that now, they’ll run off with the stamp! Why didn’t I do it before they found the stamp?’

  But Selby noticed that the burglar with the postcard was holding it right next to his nose as he patted him. Slowly and secretly Selby’s tongue slid out and touched a corner of the stamp. In a moment he’d wet it through and had a loose corner of the stamp in his teeth. He pulled gently, and then he pulled not so gently, and finally he gave it a yank and a jerk and the stamp slipped into his mouth and was safely hidden under his tongue.

  ‘Hey! The dog’s got the stamp!’ the burglar yelled. ‘Grab him!’

  Selby turned and let out a flurry of barking and growling so ferocious that it even frightened him.

  ‘Hey! This dog’s going to kill us!’ the other burglar yelled. ‘Let’s get out of here!’

  The two men ran back into the study and dived through the window as Selby ripped at their trousers.

  ‘That was good fun!’ Selby squealed when the burglars were safely out of sight. ‘Now all I have to do is glue the stamp back on the postcard and put the books back on the shelves. The Trifles will know that someone broke their window but at least they’ll have their stamp.’

  Selby opened his mouth to spit the stamp out but nothing came out. He moved his tongue around and around searching for it and then went to the mirror, opened his mouth and gazed in.

  ‘It’s gone!’ he cried. ‘While I was barking and growling, I swallowed the stamp! By now it’s completely dissolved. Oh woe, woe, woe! Why couldn’t it have been a coin instead of a stamp! At least a coin would come out the other end in one piece!’

  That evening the Trifles arrived home with Gary Gaggs who made straight for Selby and began patting him.

  ‘I love your dog,’ he said. ‘I used to have a dog myself once. It was a black dog — but then again, it wasn’t a black dog.’

  ‘How is that possible?’ Mrs Trifle said.

  ‘It’s simple: he was a greyhound,’ Gary said, pumping his arms up and down, strutting around like a rooster and saying, ‘Woo woo woo!’ as he always did when he made a joke.

  ‘That’s very good,’ Dr Trifle said. ‘You never stop, do you?’

  ‘But seriously, folks,’ Gary went on, ‘his name was Dale. I tried to take him up in a plane with me but he wouldn’t go. You see he wasn’t an Airedale. Woo woo woo! But speaking of stamps, you do know the difference between a woman and a stamp, don’t you?’

  ‘Well, I think so,’ Mrs Trifle said, wondering why there was a draught coming from the study.

  ‘One of them’s a female,’ Gary said, ‘and the other one’s a mail fee. Woo woo woo!’

  Just then, the Trifles noticed the broken window and the stampless postcard lying on the floor.

  ‘Someone’s stolen the stamp,’ Mrs Trifle cried. ‘We were so silly! Why didn’t we just take it with us?’

  ‘Calm down,’ Gary Gaggs said. ‘From the way you described it, the stamp was just a Newfoundland Tuppenny Triangle. I’m afraid they aren’t worth anything. They printed tonnes of them.’

  ‘But this one had th
e ducks printed upside down,’ Dr Trifle explained.

  ‘Worthless,’ Gary said. ‘They were all printed with the ducks upside down. Well — almost all. The stamps with the ducks rightside up are the valuable ones — there are only three of them left in the whole world.’

  ‘Well, thank goodness for that,’ Dr Trifle sighed. ‘I guess some burglar is in for a big disappointment.’

  Gary turned over the postcard, read the message and then burst out laughing.

  ‘Get a look at this!’ he said. “'The weather is here, wish you were beautiful.” That’s great!’

  Mrs Trifle frowned.

  ‘Haven’t you heard it before?’ she asked. ‘It’s the oldest postcard joke in the world.’

  ‘Of course I’ve heard it,’ Gary said. ‘The point is that this was written in 1857. It’s probably the first time that joke was ever used. Your great, great, great-grandfather probably made it up! I’m going to recommend that the International Jokes Library in Gulargambone buy this postcard for their collection.’

  ‘What an interesting idea,’ Dr Trifle said. ‘Do you suppose they’ll pay us a fortune?’

  ‘I doubt it,’ Gary Gaggs said. ‘But they’ll probably pay you enough to buy a decent burglar alarm.’

  ‘A burglar alarm,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘What a good idea.’

  ‘Burglar alarm, schmurglar alarm,’ Selby thought as he licked some trouser threads out of his teeth. ‘What you need is what you’ve already got: a good old barking, biting, and thinking dog — me!’

  SMOOCHY POOCH

  ‘She’s the most beautiful dog I’ve ever seen,’ Selby thought as he and the Trifles sat in front of the TV watching their weekly episode of Bella Barktalk, Crimefighter. ‘She may only be a cartoon, but she makes my little heart flutter like a butterfly.’

  As the program began, Bella was standing in front of the police officers of her Special Squad giving them their orders. But the Trifles’ viewing was suddenly interrupted by a knock at their door.

  ‘I wonder who that could be?’ Mrs Trifle said.

  ‘That’ll be Aunt Jetty,’ Dr Trifle answered.

  ‘I’ll get it.’

  ‘Oh, no,’ Selby thought. ‘It’s bad enough that she stays with the Trifles when she’s in Bogusville, but why does she have to come in just when my favourite show is on?’

  Selby watched as Bella planned the raid on the crooks’ hideout.

  ‘Be careful,’ she told her officers. ‘This will be dangerous, but if you all follow my orders you’ll be safe. Got it?’

  ‘Yes, captain!’ the officers all shouted, then ran to their police cars and roared away.

  Selby looked up as Aunt Jetty followed Dr Trifle into the room.

  ‘What’s this stupid program you’re watching?’ she asked. ‘Good heavens; it’s a cartoon!’

  ‘It’s very good,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘And it’s quite serious really.’

  ‘But they’re all dogs,’ Aunt Jetty protested. ‘How can it be serious?’

  ‘They’re really like people,’ Dr Trifle said. ‘They think and act just like humans. They talk and everything.’

  ‘Talking dogs, poobah!’ Aunt Jetty said, looking at Selby. ‘What will they think of next?’

  ‘Sit down and watch for a few minutes,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘I guarantee you’ll be hooked.’

  Selby lay on the floor next to the lounge, behind the Trifles’ chairs, giving Aunt Jetty his toothiest, most lip-curling look.

  ‘Old Horrible isn’t about to bite me again, is he?’ Aunt Jetty said, pushing Selby out of her way with her foot before sitting down. ‘What a disgusting little creature he is.’

  ‘You’ll be perfectly safe,’ Mrs Trifle assured her sister.

  ‘If he tries anything unfriendly I’ll have his guts for garters — mark my words.’

  ‘Oh, keep quiet you great gangling galumph,’ Selby thought. ‘I’m trying to watch Bella Barktalk.’

  Bella silently signalled her officers to surround the crooks’ hideaway. One by one they spread out around the old building. Then Bella’s long-time partner, Frank, turned to her.

  ‘I’m scared,’ he said. ‘I’ve never been scared before but I am now.’

  ‘But we’ve done this a hundred times before,’ Bella told him. ‘If we stick to the plan, we’ll be okay.’

  ‘Not this time,’ Frank said. ‘Something’s wrong, I can feel it. I say we don’t go in. This time they know we’re out here.’

  Bella looked deep into his eyes.

  ‘Frank, we can’t stop now,’ she said.

  ‘Why doesn’t she ever tell him that she loves him?’ Selby thought. ‘It’s so obvious. And he loves her too. But they never ever tell each other.’

  ‘Please trust me,’ Bella told her partner. ‘Trust me.’

  Bella gave the signal but before her Special Squad could go in, guns blazed from every window of the building sending Bella’s officers running for cover. Bella dashed towards the building but turned to see Frank fall to the ground.

  ‘Frank!’ she cried. ‘No, Frank!’

  In the next scene, Bella was standing next to Frank’s hospital bed, clutching a bouquet of flowers. He lay there unconscious.

  ‘Frank, Frank,’ Bella whimpered, the tears streaming down her face. ‘I can’t live without you. It was my fault. I never should have given that order.’

  But as she reached out to grasp his hand, the machine above his bed that had been going ping ping ping suddenly made one last long ringing noise.

  ‘No, Frank!’ Bella screamed as nurse-dogs and doctor-dogs ran from everywhere, pounding on his chest to restart his heart. ‘Please don’t die.’

  The head nurse pulled the curtains around Frank’s bed as they worked to revive him. Bella walked slowly away, dropping the bouquet of flowers in the hospital corridor.

  Selby sniffed a little sniffle and then he heard the Trifles sniffle too. Just then, Aunt Jetty burst out laughing.

  ‘What rubbish!’ she said. ‘Who cares about a dying dog? What a joke! I mean it’s not like he’s a human or anything.’

  ‘I wish she’d just shut up,’ Selby thought. ‘If only I could block her out — pretend she’s not here. She’s ruining the whole show!’

  Aunt Jetty kept talking and laughing but Selby used his powers of total concentration to pretend that he was there with Bella Barktalk in the hospital instead of at home with Aunt Jetty.

  Suddenly the scene changed to a grassy field. Bella was sitting on a rock pulling petals from a daisy.

  ‘She’s such a wonderful dog,’ Selby thought. ‘She’s tough, of course, but she’s tender and sensitive at the same time. Why can’t I find a dog like that? Oh, how I wish I wasn’t the only talking dog in Australia and, perhaps, the world.’

  Mrs Trifle blew her nose in her handkerchief as Bella’s tears streamed down her cheeks.

  ‘Captain Barktalk?’ a voice said.

  Bella wheeled around and Frank was standing there, smiling, and still wearing his hospital pyjamas and bandages.

  ‘Frank!’ Bella cried. ‘It’s you! You’re alive!’

  ‘Dear, sweet Bella,’ Frank laughed, throwing his arms around her. ‘It’s all right. I’m going to live.’

  ‘Oh, Frank!’ Bella whispered, clutching him tighter.

  ‘And from now on, I’m going to live with you.’

  Bella drew back slightly.

  ‘Do you mean —?’ she began.

  ‘Yes, darling,’ he said. ‘Will you marry me?’

  ‘Oh yes, Frank.Yes.Yes.Yes!’

  Selby’s powers of concentration were so great that for a moment he was actually kissing Bella himself. He could feel the warmth of her lips and her body pressing against his. He hugged her tighter and then slowly opened his eyes — only to see two big startled eyes looking back at him.

  ‘Bella?’ he thought.

  But these weren’t the soft eyes of his beloved dog-hero. These weren’t the eyes of the tough but tender dog of his dreams. These were the
horrified saucer-sized eyes of Aunt Jetty.

  ‘Help!’ Selby thought, his lips still pressing against hers. ‘What have I done? I’ve kissed Aunt Jetty, that’s what I’ve done! Help!’

  Aunt Jetty’s shock at Selby’s big wet kiss had been so great that she’d sat there rigid as a tree-trunk while Selby slowly pulled his mouth from hers, released her from his grip, and stepped down from the lounge.

  ‘Oh, yuck!’ Aunt Jetty screamed, wiping her lips with a handkerchief. ‘Icky poo!’

  Dr and Mrs Trifle turned around in their chairs.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Mrs Trifle asked.

  ‘He did it! I knew he’d do something, and he did!’

  ‘Did he bite you?’ Dr Trifle asked.

  ‘Bite me? No. He slobbered all over my lips! I’m going to die of some dreaded dog disease! Call a doctor! I need anti-dog drops, quick! Get me to a hospital! Help!’

  ‘Surely he was just giving you a friendly lick,’ Mrs Trifle said, watching Selby crawl through the flap in the back door and out into the yard. ‘He’s a very affectionate dog. He probably just likes you, that’s all.’

  ‘Like her? Good grief!’ Selby thought as he spat into the bushes. ‘I just got the worst fright of my life! One minute I’m kissing my dream-dog and the next thing I know she turns into my worst nightmare!’

  PHANTOM FOOTPRINTS

  ‘Wouldn’t you rather go out to dinner tonight?’ Dr Trifle said as he cut up the vegetables for the meal he was about to cook.

  ‘You’ve forgotten about my symphony,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘We don’t have time.’

  ‘Your symphony? Since when are you writing symphonies?’

  ‘It’s not really my symphony; it’s a new work by Jango Phoot. We’re rehearsing it tonight and then performing it tomorrow.’

  ‘Who exactly is we?’

  ‘The BSDS.’

  ‘The BSDS?’

  ‘The Bogusville Song and Dance Society. Sometimes I wonder if you listen to a word I say. This is a really big event. People from all over the world will be coming tomorrow night. It’s Phoot’s first major work in ten years.’

  ‘So who is this Phoot fellow?’