Spy in the Alley Read Online Free Page B

too. In his cloth shopping bag, TV dinners stuck out between film rolls.
    Jack swung his bag over his shoulder and took over the pushing of the bundle buggy. “So how’s everybody at your house?” he asked cheerfully.
    I knew he meant Madge. I wasn’t the sister of a gorgeous teenage girl for nothing. “She’s fine,” I told him. “I think you should keep trying with her. I, naturally, will continue working on your behalf from the sidelines.”
    â€œ Great ,” Jack said — could that have been a note of insincerity in his voice? In any case, Mother, who’d been eyeing the TV dinners doubtfully, interrupted, “I do urge you to sign up for our church’s youth group. I’m involved with the leaders of the group, helping them plan activities and so on.
    â€œWell,” Mother continued, as Jack, not used to her rambling discourses, looked increasingly puzzled, “one topic we often get speakers to tell the kids about is healthy diets. Fresh vegetables are part of the daily regimen these speakers invariably recommend. You’d find these talks informative, I’m sure.”
    â€œUm, Mrs. Galloway,” Jack broke in apologetically, “I’m actually not a Cath — ”
    â€œYo!” came a shout from the branches of a horse chestnut tree.
    Jack glanced around. “I hope that isn’t God, calling down from on high to reprimand me.”
    I giggled. “Hardly, Jack. It’s my friend, Pantelli.”
    The tree in front of the yellow house we were passing, which happened to be Pantelli Audia’s, shook vigorously. Leaves and twigs cascaded down. These were followed by Pantelli, landing not quite on top of the bundle buggy. He beamed at me, his dark eyes bright with self-congratulation at this scene-stealing method of arrival.
    He grabbed an apple from one of our bags, chomped into it and importantly informed us, mouth full, “By the way, there’s a goon snooping around your backyard.”
    Jack and I instantly took off. “Hey, wait for me!” called Pantelli, and raced after us. Luckily, we’d been almost at the top of the hill, so Mother wasn’t left with far to push the heavy bundle buggy.
    The three of us arrived, colliding, at the back gate. We could see the back of an unfamiliar head beyond the gate. A squarish, crewcut head; whereas Buckteeth had, as I remembered, wispy straw-colored hair sticking out from his powder-blue sun hat, and a sort of narrow head.
    Before I could note to Jack that this new person was not the spy in the alley, he charged through the gate, jumped Crewcut and tackled him to the ground.
    â€œWow,” said Pantelli admiringly.
    Plowing our way through the foxgloves, long grass and prickly blackberry tendrils, we arrived for our own close-up look at Crewcut.
    By the time we got there, he and Jack were getting up. Jack looked sheepish, Crewcut, well, goonish, and Madge cold and scornful from her chair in the shade of the patio table umbrella.
    Removing his hand from the back of Crewcut’s neck and his knee from the small of Crewcut’s back, Jack got up. He was much slimmer than Crewcut, whose body, like his head, was box-like. Without the element of surprise, Jack probably couldn’t have tackled him.
    â€œLet me guess,” said Jack to Madge. “You know this guy.”
    â€œJack, Dinah, Pantelli … I’d like you to meet Buzz Bewford,” returned Madge. From a tall, frosty pitcher she poured lemonade into glasses. “Buzz is the security guard Roderick hired to watch over our house. Just for a couple of weeks, in case that spy reappears.”
    â€œI’m really sorry,” Jack told the security guard, who was busy brushing dirt and grass off the knees of his blue suit.
    Buzz scowled. Then, abruptly, he announced, “Everyone stay here for ten minutes while I check the grounds.” And he disappeared around the side of the