Summer Of Fear by Lois Duncan Read Free Book Online Page B

professor nodded appreciatively. “That’s in the heart of the Ozarks, isn’t it? An interesting area, the bed of a lot of intriguing folklore.”
    “I’m not really from there,” Julia said. “I mean, it was my parents who lived there. I was away at school most of the time.”
    “My uncle was a writer,” I said. “He moved to the mountains to write a novel. He and my aunt were killed in a car wreck last week.”
    “How sad,” the professor said. And to Julia, “I’m so sorry, my dear. I wish your move to Albuquerque were under happier circumstances.”
    “Thank you,” Julia said. “I—I wish so too.” It was apparent that the conversation made her uncomfortable. She gave Carolyn’s arm a little tug, as though to urge her forward. “It was nice meeting you.”
    “You feel free to drop over,” Professor Jams said kindly. “I enjoy chatting with young people. I spent most of my life teaching them and I miss the contact. When you lose touch with youth, you grow old fast.”
    “You’ll never be old,” I told him fondly and meant it. The face beneath the thatch of white hair was as bright with life as the flowers he was planting. As Carolyn and Julia moved onward I hung back to watch him place the last of the plants carefully into the trench he had prepared for it and smooth the earth gently over its roots.
    “What’s Peter doing these days?” he asked me. “He graduated, didn’t he? I hope he’s planning on college.”
    “He is,” I said. “He’s planning to major in music. You know Peter; what other direction would he go?”
    We chatted a few minutes about colleges—and summertime—and the growing habits of petunias. Then the professor got to his feet and gathered up the cartons the plants had come in and carried them into the garage, and I strolled on past the Gallaghers’ toward my own house.
    I was just turning into the front yard when I heard it—a low rumbling sound, followed by a yelp and a stifled shriek. Then a woman’s voice rose in a cry of rage:
    “You vigrous, rat-fanged varmant! I’ll warp you good for that!”
    It was a moment before I realized that the words had come from Julia.
    “What on earth!” I exclaimed and broke into a run across the lawn to the porch steps. Julia was down on one knee, her hands clasped tightly around her left ankle. Carolyn was bent over her, and when she straightened and turned to me her face was white with shock.
    “What got into him? I’ve never seen him do a thing like that!”
    “What is it?” I demanded. “What happened?”
    “It’s that dawg of yourn!” Julia cried in a voice so choked with anger that it was all I could do to understand the words. “He flang hisself out and bit me!”
    “Trickle bit you?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “He couldn’t have! I don’t believe it!”
    “Take a gander at thet and see if you believe it or not!” Julia lifted her hands, and I caught my breath as I saw the blood gushing from the deep tooth marks in the flesh just above the anklebone.
    “He was lying on the porch,” Carolyn told me shakily, “over there in that patch of sunlight. We started up the steps and he began to wag his tail like he always does. Then suddenly he growled—I’ve never heard Trickle growl in all the time I’ve known him! He got up and stood there all stiff with his ears back against his head, and the next moment he jumped right at Julia and bit her! Then he ran off around the side of the house, headed for the back.”
    “I don’t believe it,” I said again. But this was not true. Into my mind leapt the picture of Trickle as he had been the night before, his head lowered, his teeth bared. He had growled at Julia then, a low, menacing growl of pure hatred. Was it any more incredible that he had bitten her now?
    “Take her into the house,” I told Carolyn, “and tell Mother what happened. She’ll know how to treat the bite and stop the bleeding. I’m going to find Trickle.”
    I left the girls