The Fiddler's Secret Read Online Free Page B

else!”
    The boy laughed. “Or else what?”
    As though expecting the dog to bite Libby, the bully sethim down in front of her. Instead, the dog danced out of arm’s length, planted his spindly legs, and barked at the bully.
Yap, yap, yap!
    But his freedom didn’t last. Though the dog darted away, the youngest bully caught him.
    Upset by the dog’s squeals, Libby balled her fists. The minute the youngest bully looked up, she struck him in the nose. As blood gushed out of his nostrils, the boy dropped the dog.
    Horrified, Libby stepped back. But Peter rushed forward, grabbed the dog, and headed for the gangplank. “Run for it!” he cried.
    Her knees weak, Libby felt she couldn’t move. Then the tallest bully whirled around and started toward her. Libby leaped away and kept running. By the time she raced up the gangplank, she was out of breath.
    From the safety of the main deck, she looked back. Already the other bullies were teasing the boy with the bloody nose. Peter found Caleb and Jordan.
    Caleb looked from Peter to Libby. “Hey! What’s up?”
    Peter grinned. “Libby gave a boy a bloody nose!”
    â€œReally?” Caleb asked Libby. “The society girl from Chicago gave a boy a bloody nose?”
    Libby was embarrassed. “Peter, be quiet!” Then she remembered their sign for “Shush!”
    But Peter kept on. “She hauled off and hit him! You better watch out, Caleb. Don’t
ever
make Libby mad!”
    Caleb grinned at her. “I can’t do that. Not make her mad, I mean. But from now on I’ll watch out.”
    â€œWhat did you say?” Peter asked.
    Palms up, Caleb waved his hands to tell him, “Not important.”Instead, Caleb pointed to the dog. The mud was drying, drawing the dog’s hair into clumps.
    Peter wore a pleased-with-himself grin. “I’m going to help people,” he announced.
    Libby took Peter’s slate from the bag over his shoulder. “Help people?” she wrote. “Dogs aren’t people!”
    Peter looked disgusted. “This dog is going to help your pa.”
    That was an even bigger puzzle for Libby. “How?”
    â€œYour pa needs a watchdog.”
    â€œWhat about Samson?” Libby wrote.
    â€œSamson is a happy dog,” Peter said quickly as though to keep peace. “He’ll push you away if there’s danger. He’ll jump in to rescue people from the water. But this dog—my dog—will make noise. All the way up the gangplank I could feel him barking.”
    Libby grinned. “He made noise, all right.” Holding her hands in front of her chest, Libby curled her fingers as if they were paws. “Yap, yap! Yap, yap, yap!”
    Peter seemed to read her lips. He understood the barking.
    â€œSo,” Libby wrote, “this dog is supposed to help Pa?”
    Peter nodded. “I’ll train him to do that. Of course, he’ll have to help me too.”
    â€œOf course.” Libby glanced toward Caleb, who had swallowed his laughter. “What color is your dog?”
    When Peter didn’t answer, Caleb took the slate from Libby. “You can’t just pick up a dog and start to own it. It might belong to someone.”
    â€œHe doesn’t,” Peter said. “This dog is an orphan.” His arms closed around the dirty creature. “I know.”
    Yes, you would
, Libby thought, suddenly filled withcompassion. After being an orphan himself, Peter would recognize it in a dog.
    Caleb wasn’t going to let Peter off so easily. “We need to check with the men who live here. Jordan and I will go with you. Those bullies won’t touch you if we’re around.”
    With the dog in his arms, Peter started down the gangplank. The minute his feet touched the riverbank, the three boys started toward him. When Peter saw them, he stopped and stood his ground.
    The biggest bully walked straight up to him and held a fist