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.“What’s not mine to take?” Jack asked, taking a step forward.“I haven’t taken anything.I just wanted to shake your—”“I know what you are,” the man yelped.“I already told you who I am.I’m Jack.I’m staying with—”“Not one step farther.You can’t have it!” He pushed past Jack.In a burst of speed that didn’t seem possible with a physique like his, the man ran to the skateboard and flung it into the gully and, in the same motion, grabbed Jack’s backpack and took off down the street.The cats, with a terrific yowl, followed close at his heels, batting every once in a while at the trailing straps.“Hey,” Jack yelled, taking off after him.“Hey! Give that back, you lousy—” but he couldn’t finish his sentence, as he tripped on a small rock and fell, face-first, sprawling across the pavement.Jack groaned, rolled over, and checked his glasses.One lens had cracked, and one hinge had been pulled far out of alignment.“Oh, great.” He balanced the glasses on the bridge of his nose, trying to push them back into their normal shape.His shirt had torn at the shoulder, and his shorts at the pocket.“Just great.”“Jack,” a girl’s voice sounded behind him.“Is that you?”Jack shook his head.“Just keeps getting better and better,” he muttered.He turned and saw Wendy, once again, standing over him.He scrambled to his feet.“Clive said you went off this way.I thought we were going to show you a… Wow,” she said, looking at his torn clothing and broken glasses.“What on earth happened to you?” She reached into the pocket of her shorts and pulled out a handkerchief.Jack took it gratefully, wiping the dirt off of his face.He folded the map and slid it into his back pocket.He had half a mind to stay indoors for the rest of the summer.“I tripped on a rock,” Jack said, ashamed.“All this for a rock?”“No,” Jack said defensively, walking past Wendy to get a view of where the man had gone, but he was out of sight by now.“Some guy jumped me and stole my bag.” Wendy opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out at first.Finally: “Who?”“How should I know? He was kind of bald and skinny and nervous.Bony neck.Camo pants.The cats attacked him.”Wendy nodded grimly.“Those cats are smart.That guy is Mr.Perkins.He works for old man Avery—you know, his son, Clayton, is the kid who beat you up yesterday.”Jack puffed up briefly.“He did not.I just—” He wanted to say, Beating up isn’t exactly what I would call it, but he couldn’t.After all, Wendy had been there.“Avery’s awful, awful.What was in the bag?”“Everything.My notebook, my drawings, some art stuff.Oh, and Uncle Clive’s book.He left it in my room, and I thought I’d look through it.The Secret—”“The Secret History of Hazelwood?” Wendy grabbed the collar of his shirt in her fist.“What were you thinking, taking that book out of the house?”“Well,” Jack said, “I mean—”“Don’t you know what’s in that book?”“Isn’t it just—”“You haven’t even read it?” Wendy stood, looked down the empty street.“He hasn’t even read it,” she muttered to herself.“And here you just handed it to Mr.Avery, of all people.Nice work, buddy.Nice.” She slugged him on the shoulder.“That way, right?” She pointed.“What are you talking about?” Jack said, rubbing his shoulder.Wendy didn’t look that strong, but she punched hard.“It’s just a—” But Wendy had already taken off running.Jack pushed his way into the dense undergrowth at the edge of the woods, grabbed the skateboard, and scrambled after her.He could hear the mewling screeches of the cats echoing through the quiet town.Jack caught up to Wendy, keeping pace with her long-legged lope, though it was difficult, since Jack was shorter.As he ran, the skateboard slid and wobbled in his sweaty hands, and despite his efforts, it slipped from his grip and fell.“Hang on,” he called to Wendy.“Let me get my—” But he didn’t finish, because the moment the board touched the pavement, it began moving on its own—a straight, sure path down the street.Jack, without even planning to do so, jumped on the deck and grabbed Wendy’s hand to help her on behind him.They gained speed, the wheels purring beneath their feet.Though it wasn’t necessary, Jack leaned out and kicked the pavement from time to time, if for no other reason than to keep up appearances.Whether or not this seemed strange to Wendy, she didn’t say.“Oh God, he’s practically there,” Wendy said.Up ahead, a broad limestone building blocked the road, casting an inky shadow in their direction.The bald-headed man—presumably, Jack thought, Mr.Perkins—made several attempts to scurry up the stairs, only to be buffeted back by two snarling, spitting cats.“Shoo,” the man cried, and Jack noticed that his pants had been torn to strips, as had the skin of his legs, which bled heavily into his socks.Serves him right, Jack thought, though he instantly felt guilty for thinking such a thing.“Bad kitties!” Mr.Perkins yelped.The skateboard slowed to a stop and Jack jumped off, running to the man.“Sir,” he said, “I’d like my bag back, please.” One of the cats pounced on the man’s back and hung on tight.He staggered toward the front door of the Exchange.“I can call them off, you know,” Jack said, though he wasn’t entirely sure it was true.“Toss me the bag and say you’re sorry for stealing.” Nice, Jack congratulated himself.That, he felt, was an impressive addition.“Don’t you give me your lectures about stealing,” the man said as he reached the door.Wendy couldn’t stand it anymore.She ran up the stairs and tackled him.“Give it back, you thieving—”The doors flew open and two policemen, the same ones Jack had seen earlier, came running out.Do they work in the Exchange building? Jack wondered.Is it really true that Mr.Avery runs everything in town? The cats reared up and hissed at the approaching men before bounding into the shrubberies on either side of the entrance, vanishing from sight.“Wendy,” Jack gasped.“Stop it.We’re going to get in so much—”“Trouble?” one police officer said.“I’d say so.”One officer grabbed Wendy’s arm while the other grabbed Jack.“We’ll take these two home, Mr.Perkins.Unless you’d like to press charges.”“That won’t be necessary,” Mr.Perkins said loftily, brushing off his jacket and pants.“Can I have my bag back?” Jack said, keeping his voice steady and his eyes on Mr.Perkins, who shuddered under the gaze.Recovering himself, he turned, holding the bag tightly to his chest.“I don’t know what you’re talking about, young man,” he said without looking at Jack.“This bag is mine.”“Liar!” Wendy shouted.“That’s enough, Schumacher.” And Jack and Wendy, their forearms firmly grasped in the broad fists of the officers, were walked to the squad car.As the car pulled away, Jack looked back at the stone building.Mr.Perkins stood in the open door with an unmistakably smug expression on his face.He nodded, turned, and went inside.However, as the door slowly closed, Jack saw something that Mr.Perkins did not: the shadows of two quicksilver figures darting inside, their tails moving like whips [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]