Vernie pulled it from the wrapper, then weighed it on her palms. Land o’ Goshen, there really was such a thing as monkey biscuits! Tucking the container under her arm, she lowered her head and charged back to the storeroom, then slammed the door. Deftly lifting the edge of the plastic container with a fingernail, she pulled out one of the round nuggets and sniffed it. Didn’t smell like much. She read the label. “Contains dehulled soybean meal, corn flour, ground soybean hulls, ground oats, corn gluten meal, fructose, soybean oil, and added calcium.” Nothing that’d hurt a body . . . even Buddy Franklin. Her eyes darted toward the door. She concentrated, listening for sounds. Elezar was cleaning behind the counter, so he wouldn’t be likely to snoop if she wanted to give these things a nibble . . . She brought the nugget to her lips. Texture was OK. She touched the tip of her tongue to its dusty surface. Hmm. Not bad, but a little grassy for her taste. She put it between her teeth, preparing to bite down— The door flew open.
