Spooky Buddies Junior Novel

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Authors: Disney Book Group
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had given him. “Poor Pip,” Joseph said.
    â€œWhat happened, Sheriff?” one of the townspeople asked.
    Sheriff Jim was still holding Warwick’s staff. Joseph’s dad had the spell book.
    â€œI don’t know,” the sheriff said. “But this home is officially condemned. Let’s board it up—I don’t want anyone going in.”
    As they got back into their cars, nobody noticed the owl flying out the turret window.
    â€œI will wait for you to return, Master,” Hoot promised.

Fernfield, USA
October 31, present day
    â€œN o one is exactly sure what happened that night—or if the legend is even true,” Mrs. Carroll said. “But it’s an interesting part of Fernfield folklore.”
    Her class stared at the boarded-up old manor on the outskirts of town. Five of the kids in the class—Billy, Pete, Bartleby, Sam, and Alice—were there.
    They had brought their golden retriever puppies with them—B-Dawg, Mudbud, Budderball, Buddha, and Rosebud. Together, the five pups were known as the Buddies. They were tagging along on the class’s Spooky Fernfield field trip.
    One of the bigger kids in the class, Rodney, looked around with a smirk. “Tell that to the kids who got eaten by the Howlloween Hound last year,” he said. “Kids go in every Halloween and say the Hound’s name in the mirror three times, and they’re never seen again!”
    Suddenly, there was a loud howl from the bushes. Everyone gasped.
    A boy named Skip stepped out. He was the one who had howled. He laughed and traded high fives with Rodney.
    â€œOkay, Rodney and Skip,” Mrs. Carroll scolded. “There will be no more tricks. Come along children, we have two more stops on our Spooky Fernfield tour.”
    As the kids climbed on the bus, the Buddies started to follow. Then the puppies noticed that one of their group was missing.
    â€œWhere’s B-Dawg hiding?” Buddha wondered.
    B-Dawg stepped out from behind some bushes. “I wasn’t hiding, yo,” he said. “I was just getting ready to pounce on that Hound.”
    â€œSure, dude,” Mudbud said. “You were hiding like a scaredy cat, ’cause you thought there was a ghost.”
    â€œB-Dawg is afraid of nothing!” B-Dawg bragged. He liked to think he was the toughest of the Buddies. “I’ll prove it—I’ll go in there right now, call out that Howlloween Hound, and kick his tail.”
    He raced off toward the house. The other puppies chased after him.
    B-Dawg slipped inside the house past an opening in the wood, and the rest of the Buddies followed.
    â€œSee? It’s…it’s not too scary,” B-Dawg said, trying to sound brave. But the place was definitely spooky. Everything was covered in dust and cobwebs. Only a little light seeped in through the boards on the windows. “I’m going to prove once and for all that I ain’t no scaredy cat.”
    B-Dawg headed toward the stairs.
    â€œUh, okay,” Rosebud said. “You’re not a scaredy cat. We take it back.”
    But B-Dawg kept going. Reluctantly, the other Buddies followed him up the stairs. None of them noticed the ghost puppy floating along above them.…
    Mrs. Carroll’s class got off the bus at the Fernfield cemetery. “Many people and their pets from Fernfield history have their final resting place here,” the teacher said.
    The kids looked around nervously.
    â€œI could do without the cemetery on Halloween,” Billy said. He was not feeling very good about this.
    The others nodded in agreement. But Mrs. Carroll led them farther in.
    â€œHere’s the great Deputy Tracker’s grave,” she pointed out. “One of the best canine officers our town ever saw.”
    Billy looked at the grave site. Beside it was a statue of a cute little beagle puppy. What was that doing there?
    Then he heard the sound of a shovel hitting dirt. Looking

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