Dave at Night by Gail Carson Levine Read Free Book Online

Hopeless House of Beggars.”
    I wasn’t paying attention to Mike. I only cared about the carving.
    He opened the door to the main floor. We were in the back hallway. We walked a few steps, then Mike opened a door and turned on a light switch. The walls were lined with bookcases, and there were more bookcases in the middle of the room.
    â€œWhere . . .”
    Mike pointed at a glass cabinet between two windows. I went to it. It held a wooden boat, a stuffed sparrow, and shelves full of funny-looking clay animals that must have been made by kids. No carving.
    â€œIt’s not here.” We left the library.
    Mr. Doom had said only bad boys saw his office again. Well, I was going back there. I’d grab the yardstick before he did.
    â€œAre you really going to Mr. Doom?”
    â€œYou don’t have to come.”
    â€œI’m coming. This I have to see.”
    I hurried down the hall.
    â€œI don’t think you should bother Mr. Doom,” Mike said from behind me. “You should have seen what he did to Leon.”
    â€œShut up. He’s not going to do anything to me.” But I was scared, a little anyway.
    â€œI’ll get the nurse if you need her, buddy.”
    The bell rang for lights out. I knocked on the door to Mr. Doom’s office.
    Mike hopped up and down, ready to run. “Let’s go. He isn’t there.”
    I knocked louder.
    â€œCome on, Dave. He must have gone home. He doesn’t live here.”
    I pounded on the door, and while I pounded I made my decision. I wasn’t staying in a place that stole your private possessions. I’d get my carving back, and then I’d scram.
    No answer. I turned the knob. The door was locked. I didn’t know where else to look. For now.
    â€œIt’s a good thing Mr. Meltzer never hits,” Mike said as we ran back.
    Mr. Meltzer was waiting outside our room. “Stinking brats. I told you to get back here.” He herded us in ahead of him. “Get into bed. Go to sleep.”
    Mr. Meltzer left, and all the elevens crowded around my bed.
    â€œDid you find Mr. Doom?” one of them asked. It was too dark to see who was talking.
    â€œIf he did, he’d be on a stretcher,” another voice said. I think it was Harvey. The voice sounded hoarse.
    â€œHe wasn’t there,” I said.
    â€œHe pounded on his office door,” Mike said, bragging about me, “like Mr. Doom should be scared of him.”
    â€œRemember when Leon told Mr. Doom the food was lousy?” said Alfie, the kid with the cough. My eyes were getting used to the dark.
    Somebody tall said, “What happened, buddy?”
    â€œMr. Doom whacked him so hard he flew ten feet.”
    â€œAnd bounced twice.” That was one of the twins.
    They started telling Mr. Doom stories. I stretched out on my bed and closed my eyes, but I heard every word. Mr. Doom’s victims lost teeth, needed stitches, needed crutches. Sixteen-year-old bullies begged for mercy, screamed for their mamas.
    Finally the buddies drifted back to their beds, and gradually the feeling in the room changed as they fell asleep. I heard snoring. Someone whimpered. Someone coughed. The room was so big it was almost like sleeping outside. And it was so cold and humid that sleet could have started coming down. One blanket wasn’t enough. I put my pillow over my head to block out everyone’s noise and to keep my ears warm.
    I swore an oath, whispering into the thin mattress. I would take back the carving and get out of here.

Chapter 8
    I COULDN’T SLEEP . Mike was as jerky in his sleep as he was awake. One of his bed’s legs was shorter than the others, and the bed was dancing. It made such a racket I didn’t know how anybody could sleep. I stood up. Maybe I could prowl around and find the carving.
    Daredevil Dave was at it again.
    I tiptoed to the door, holding my slippers. Outside I blinked in the light of the hall. Two doors away from