Bound for Danger Read Online Free Page A

yourselves play today.”
    He paused, and neither Joe nor I spoke. There was silence for a minute.
    â€œ Very well ,” said the lead figure, breaking the silence. “Clearly more motivation is needed. You are convinced thatyou belong among us. Brothers, bring forward the brand.”
    A figure on the left reached inside his robe and pulled out a small, shiny object. He held it up.
    â€œ This is a team pin ,” the lead figure said, “ with the logo for the Bayport Tigers. If we heat this over a candle until it’s red-hot, we can use it to brand you both. ”
    I involuntarily jumped. “ Brand us?”
    â€œThat’s right. If you are so determined to be part of the team, surely you are willing to wear our brand on your skin? It will burn for a moment, yes, but then it will mark you as one of us forever.”
    â€œWait . . . , ” said Joe, unable to hide the fear in his voice. “do you . . . brand all the players? Is that a thing?”
    The lead figure cackled again. “Whether we do or not, no one will ever tell. But being a true brother doesn’t come without cost. If you really wish to avoid this fate, you can tell us right now who sent you.”
    Joe and I traded glances. The look on his face said, Holy frijoles, but I don’t think we should tell them, right? And I tried to make my expression say, Yeah, and they can’t really brand us. They’d get in so much trouble! Right? Right?!
    â€œ Very well ,” the lead figure intoned. The brother who’d held up the pin took out a lighter and a pair of tongs. He handed the lighter to the guy next to him, who coaxed out a flame, and then placed the pin in the pincers of the tongs and held it right in the middle of the flame.
    I could smell something burning. The metal began to glow.
    Joe made a squeaky noise. I glanced at him: Be cool.
    Then the lighter clicked off and the brother holding the pin with the tongs turned to look at us. He began to walk toward Joe, holding out the pin. . . .
    I felt my heart speed up and began to sweat. They wouldn’t, would they? Surely . . .
    â€œPull up his sleeve!” the leader intoned.
    Joe let out a sound like he was being strangled.
    â€œIT WAS PRINCIPAL GERTHER!”
    The words came out of my mouth without my ever planning to say them. But when they did, everyone turned to me, and the brother holding the pin lowered it. Joe swayed and nearly fell off his pedestal, but was able to balance at the last minute.
    â€œWhat was that?” asked the lead figure.
    I tried to breathe. “It was Principal Gerther,” I said in a rush. “He called us into his office and said we had to join the team.”
    â€œWhy?” asked the lead figure. He’d forgotten to use the voice modulator this time, so I tried to memorize the sound of his voice. It was familiar, but not obviously so—I couldn’t immediately place it with any of the players I’d met that day.
    â€œWe don’t know,” Joe said. “Your guess is as good as ours, really. We’ve been trying to figure it out all day.”
    The lead figure looked at the masked figures around him. I sensed he was trying to decide whether to believe us.
    â€œWhy would he tell you to join the team and not tell you why?”
    Joe and I both shrugged.
    â€œWhy does he wear the same polyester suit every day?” Joe asked. “Whydid he pull Frank out of an extracurricular activity to tell him he has no extracurricular activities? Why anything? I can’t explain Principal Gerther to you.”
    The lead figure dropped the voice modulator and turned to the others. There was some hushed whispering as they seemed to discuss whether to accept that or not. The brief break in the action gave me the chance to remember that balancing on this block was making my legs ache like heck. My weak muscles from that day’s practice weren’t helping either.
    I glanced at Joe. My