THE CASE OF THE WATERMLON PATCH MYSTERY; CHAPTER 11: TIME FOR A SCIENTIFIC WATERMELON TEST

LAST WEEK: Eddy the Rac had a news flash for Hank. All those big green things lying on the ground weren't watermelons. Eddy said they were gourds! Then Hank agreed to take a challenge of truth.

Eddy the Rac snatched up a cricket in his little fingers and popped it into his mouth. I could hear him crunching.

"You ate a cricket?"

"Yeah. Good. Want one?"

"No thanks. You coons will eat just about anything, I guess."

"Right. Meat. Bugs. Roots. Corn. Stuff like that."

"Yes, I've noticed the coon tracks along the creek. But getting back to the subject we were debating, Eddy. You say these are gourds. I say you're wrong. They're watermelons, and I'm willing to conduct a scientific test to prove it."

"Great. Go for it."

"I sure as thunder will." There was a moment of silence. "Uh ... what's the test?"

"Easy. Open one up. Taste it. Gourd's bitter. Watermelon's sweet. Bingo."

"Hmm. Well, that sounds fair enough." I walked over to one of the ... whatever-they-weres, watermelons or gourds ... I walked over to one of the objects of our experiment and tried to figure out how to crack it open.

This proved to be no can of wax. In the first place, the outside consisted of a tough layer of material called the rind. This rindish material turned out to be tough enough to resist my best efforts to bite into it.

In the second place, the object was large and round, about the size and shape of your average basketball, and have you ever tried to bite a basketball? Try it and see what happens. If your experience is the same as mine, you will open and close your jaws numerous times, and at some point you will begin to suspect that it can't be done.

The harder I tried, the madder I got. The madder I got, the harder I tried. Just before I went into a screaming fit of rage, I gave it up and marched back over to Eddy.

"We've gotten our first results from the experiment, Eddy, and they show that it can't be done. Sorry. I guess that's the end of it."

I heard that little chuckle of his. "I can do it."

I gave him a steely glare. "Hey, pal, I've already told you. It can't be done."

"Bet me?"

"Eddy, listen to the voice of reason and experience. I'm older and wiser than you, right? I'm bigger than you, right? My jaws are bigger than your jaws, right? If I can't do it, you can't do it. Period."

"Bet me?"

I gave my head a shake and walked a few steps away. "You're a stubborn little cuss. Why won't you listen to ..."

"Bet me?"

I whirled around. "OK, Eddy, fine. I tried to warn you. I tried to give you friendly advice, but you won't listen, so go ahead and make a fool of yourself. I'll take your bet, and I'll raise you ten thousand."

"Heh. Watch."

He monkey-walked into the darkness and returned a moment later ... hmm, walking on three legs instead of the usual four, which seemed a little odd.

"I'll watch, Eddy. I'll watch you wear out your jawbones trying to get a bite out of that thing. I'll watch you make a complete fool of your ... what are you doing there, Eddy? What are you holding in your hand?"

"Rock. Scissors cut paper. Paper covers rock. Rock breaks scissors."

"Yeah, but..."

SPLAT!

He looked at me with a big grin. "Rock breaks gourd. Bingo. You lose. Heh, heh."

By George, that was a pretty clever coon. He had just succeeded in breaking open a watermelon ... gourd ... whatever it was. And now it was time for us to move into the next phase of the investigation.

I would conduct a rigorous scientific experiment to prove, once and for all, that it was a watermelon, not a gourd.

NEXT CHAPTER: But dogs don't eat gourds!