The Second Adventure by Gordon Korman Read Free Book Online Page A

peering into cabins and other buildings. Every now and then, one of them would drop a napkin and stoop to pick it up, checking the crawl spaces under the structures. And, Melissa noted with a sinking heart, they were working their way closer and closer to the performance center. Sooner or later they’d get to a place where the dog’s barking would betray his location in the barn.
    â€œFerris — can I have a word?”
    Logan had been so wrapped up following
today’s
dognappers that he hadn’t given a thought to
yesterday’s
. He turned to find himself staring into the famous features of Mickey Bonaventure.
    Face-to-face with the Hollywood connection he’d let slip away, Logan just started babbling uncontrollably. “Mr. Bonaventure, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to call you slimy! I mean, I meant to call you slimy, but in a good way! Not that it’s good to be slimy! And anyway, you’re not slimy anymore, not that you ever were —”
    The Hollywood star looked impatient. “I’ve heard a rumor that Camp Ta-da! thinks I’m going to decide against them because of what you did. I want you to know that nothing could be further from the truth.”
    Logan wanted to pay attention, but the bus drivers were right outside the barn now. And — was that a bark?
    â€œI take my judging very seriously,” Bonaventure went on. “And I intend to be fair and impartial . . . Are you even listening to me?”
    â€œFer-ris,” Melissa prompted meaningfully.
    â€œNot now!” Logan hissed.
    The dognappers stepped through the rear door of the performance center, and Melissa broke into a run after them.
    â€œI would never let a personal bias interfere with my responsibilities,” the actor droned on. “I’m willing to let bygones be bygones.” He held out his hand.
    Logan barely noticed it. All his attention was focused on the barn, and the fact that Luthor was trapped there with two dognappers. “I — ” he stammered. “I — I gotta go!” He turned his back on his only Hollywood connection and sprinted for the performance center.
    He ran into the barn, and was about to burst into the main theater section when he heard soft footsteps creeping up the back staircase. Melissa. And another sound — the growling of a dog. He caught up with his partner on the stairs, and a knowing glance passed between them: Maybe Luthor could take care of himself.
    Then a voice from above said, “Hold still, mutt. You won’t feel a thing.”
    Logan remembered Griffin’s description of the incident at Ebony Lake. Tranquilizer darts! No one could take on Luthor straight-up. But if the dog was out cold . . .
    They blasted up the stairs and arrived in the hayloft to behold a horrible sight. The two bus drivers were trying to corner a nervous Luthor. The younger man with the spiky hair waved a dart gun, struggling to get a bead on the pacing Doberman.
    â€œGet away from our dog!” Logan ordered in his most commanding tone.
    â€œ
Your
dog? This dog belongs to a man named Palomino!” growled the older man. “Now get lost! This is none of your business.”
    Melissa picked up Luthor’s water dish and wielded it like a Frisbee.
    Spiky Hair laughed. “What are you going to do — knock us out with a plastic bowl?”
    In answer, Melissa flung the dish, not at the drivers, but at the upstairs control for the electric lift mechanism.

    T he spinning dish bounced off the wall switch. With a click, followed by a loud hum, the trap door began to descend, lowering the two shocked men down to the theater below. To them, it seemed as if the very floor beneath their feet was falling away. Spiky Hair, struggling to maintain his balance, fired one shot from the tranquilizer gun. The dart nicked Luthor on the neck and sailed beyond him, burying itself in a crossbeam.
    Luthor stood, barking through the hole in the