Free Revenge of the Lawn Gnomes by R. L. Stine Page A

to her forehead. Her hands were jammed into the pockets of her bathrobe.
    “What are we going to do?” she asked me, shouting over the excited chants.
    Suddenly I had an idea.
    I raised my arms high over my head. “Quiet!” I screamed.
    The room instantly grew silent. Hundreds of red eyes glared at me.
    “Let us go!” I demanded. “Or the three of us will scream at the top of our
lungs. We will wake up Mrs. Anderson. And she will be down here in a second to
rescue us!”
    Silence.
    Had I frightened them?
    No. The gnomes burst into loud, scornful laughter. They slapped each other’s
shoulders, hooted, and giggled.
    “You’ll have to do better than that!” Hap grinned up at me. “We all know that
Mrs. Anderson can’t hear a thing.”
    “Go ahead and shout,” Chip urged. “Shout all you want. We like it when humans
shout.” He turned to Hap, and the two of them slapped each other’s shoulders and
fell on the floor, giggling gleefully, kicking their feet in the air.
    Over the vast basement, the chants started up again.
    “Tickle! Tickle! Tickle!”
    “Fold them! Fold them! Fold them!”
    “Dribble! Dribble! Dribble!”
    With a long sigh, I turned to my frightened sister and friend. “We’re
doomed,” I muttered. “We don’t have a chance.”

 
 
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    “Tug of War! Tug of War!”
    A new chant started in the back of the room and swept up toward the front.
    “Yes!” Hap and Chip declared happily.
    “Excellent mischief!” Hap cried.
    “A Tug of War! We’ll tug them till they stretch!” Chip shouted.
    “Stretch them! Stretch them!”
    “Tug of War! Tug of War!”
    “Joe—what are we going to do?” I heard Mindy’s frightened voice over the
enthusiastic chants.
    Think, Joe, I urged myself. Think! There has to be a way out of this
basement.
    But I felt so dazed. The chants rang in my ears. The grinning faces leered up
at us. My thoughts were a jumbled mess.
    “Stretch them! Stretch them!”
    “Fold them! Fold them!”
    “Tickle! Tickle! Tickle!”
    Suddenly, over the shrill gnome voices, I heard a familiar sound.
    A dog’s bark.
    Buster’s bark.
    “Buster!” Mindy cried. “I hear him!”
    “I—I did too!” I exclaimed, turning and raising my eyes to the window above
our heads. “He followed us! He must be right outside!”
    I desperately wished Buster could talk. Could run home and tell Mom and Dad
that we were in terrible trouble.
    But he could only bark. Or… could he do more?
    I suddenly remembered how frightened Hap and Chip appeared whenever Buster
came around. The terrified expressions on their faces.
    My heart fluttered with hope. Maybe the gnomes are afraid of dogs. Maybe
Buster can scare them into letting us go. Maybe he can even frighten them back
into their trance.
    I edged closer to my sister, my back pressed against the wall. “Mindy, I
think the gnomes are afraid of Buster. If we get him down here, I think he can
save us.”
    We didn’t hesitate. All three of us started shouting up to the window.
“Buster! Buster! Come here, boy!”
    Could he hear us over the chanting gnomes?
    Yes!
    His big head peered down at us through the window.
    “Good boy!” I cried. “Now, come here. Come down here, Buster!”
    Buster’s mouth opened. His pink tongue drooped from his mouth, and he started
to pant.
    “Good doggie!” I crooned. “Good doggie—come down here. Fast! Come, boy!
Come, Buster!”
    Buster poked his head into the window. And yawned.
    “Down, Buster!” Mindy ordered. “Come down here, boy!”
    He pulled his head out of the window. And settled down on the ground outside.
I could see his head resting on his paws.
    “No, Buster!” I shrieked, shouting over the chants. “Come, boy! Don’t lie
down! Come! Buster, come!”
    “Rowf?” He pushed his head back into the window. Farther. Farther.
    “That a boy! Come on!” I pleaded. “A little more… a little more. If you
come down here, I’ll feed you doggie treats five times a