Hunter Moran Digs Deep Read Online Free Page A

does Yulefski.
    I look over my shoulder at the screen on the ground, and freeze. I see Zack’s two legs as he begins to wiggle into Diglio’s waiting room.
    After a moment, Diglio begins to whistle again, Sarah goes on with whatever story she’s telling, and Zack slithers all the way into the waiting room.
    I take a running jump, grab the windowsill, and slide in myself.
    Zack’s on the floor, like a crab, scrabbling around under the couch, and then under a couple of chairs.
    He comes out with a head filled with dust balls. Diglio is too busy with the town’s teeth to bother cleaning his own office.
    I creak the closet door open. One thing you have to say about Diglio is that he’s in love with his tools. They’restacked a mile high, box after box. Zack leans in and moves them around a little, trying to see if Diglio’s hidden the book behind something.
    The door to Dr. Diglio’s operating room opens, and the doctor peers out.
    In a split second, Zack folds himself inside the closet.
    It’s too late for me. I stand there, a drill behind my back, which Zack reaches out and takes from me without a sound.
    â€œZack Moran,” Dr. Diglio says.
    â€œHunter.”
    He shrugs a little. “About time you showed up. I’ve been worried about that back molar of yours for months.”
    Sure.
    He sighs. “No one leaves me alone even on a weekend. That kid Bradley was here for an hour yesterday. He doesn’t even know what a toothbrush is.”
    Bradley?
    Yulefski passes us. Yes, there’s that rainbow smile. She yells, “Thanks, Dr. Diglio, you’re the best.”
    She waves over her shoulder at me, then marches down the hall and out the door.
    â€œInto my chair,” Diglio tells me, smiling with huge false teeth.
    There’s no help for it. I’m toast. Or at least my back molar is.
    But Zack is safe. While Diglio stares into my mouth,whistling all the while, Zack will be able to take a quick look at the rest of the closet . . .
    . . . and disappear into the sunset. That’s from
Saddle Up, Boys
, Friday night, eight o’clock. Pop’s favorite. The boringest show you could imagine.
    Mouth open wide, I stare in front of me. And there it is, hanging out under a pile of stuff on the windowsill:
The Fascinating History of Newfield
, by Mrs. Elsie Mulenberg. Of course. Bradley must have left it there. How bright was that?
    It’s in worse shape even than the ruined book from last summer: pages sticking out, and the back cover is almost ripped off, pen marks all over it. Bradley is going to be in big trouble with Mrs. Wu.
    He’s turning to get something, probably pliers, when I hear this tremendous noise.
    I jump.
    There’s nothing wrong with Diglio’s ears. He jumps, too, drops the pliers, and rushes into the waiting room, muttering something under his breath.
    It’s my chance. Hold on, molar, I tell myself.
    I dart out of the chair, pick up the book, and race after Dr. Diglio.
    I circle around him, looking over my shoulder, as he stands in front of the closet, boxes of this and that cascading onto the floor.
    He holds Zack by the ear. “I’m calling the police!” he yells.
    I dash out the door, into the hall, pages of
The Fascinating History of Newfield
floating behind me.
    I’m free.
    But what good is that? I’ll only be able to see my poor brother Zack on visiting days at the local jail.

Chapter 6
    Yulefski stands outside, one leg bent, her foot against the brick wall like a stork. She runs her hands through her nest of hair. “Thought I’d wait for you,” she says.
    I can’t talk. I can hardly even think.
    I stand there, looking up the street, waiting for the sound of sirens and flashing lights as the police car comes for Zack.
    Yulefski steps forward, tapping the book that’s still under my arm. “You’ve got it!” She reaches out.
    I keep a firm grip on it.