Sugar Creek Gang Set Books 31-36 by Paul Hutchens

Author:Paul Hutchens [Hutchens, Paul]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-8024-8205-1
Publisher: Moody Publishers
Published: 1999-08-25T04:00:00+00:00

7

One thing that made me feel so cheerful all day was the news we got on our party-line phone about ten o’clock in the morning. Circus was feeling fine again, the swelling in his vocal cords was all gone, and he was going to be able to holler and give loon calls as he always does when we’re out in the woods together. And that goes to show how fast a boy can get well—or almost well—when he keeps his body and mind in good condition. Now the whole gang would be together for our overnight in Old Man Paddler’s cabin.

Poetry was so sure the old man wanted us to solve the code and find a treasure in a tin box that he was bubbling over with excitement. He was also sure of something else, which he asked me to keep a secret.

“It’s what I dreamed last night,” he whispered, while he and I were alone near the sycamore tree.

I looked all around to be sure nobody else was listening, and this is what he said to me: “You know how in real life the criminal returns to the scene of the crime, and that’s where the police or the detectives wait for him and capture him?”

It was a worrisome idea, especially when my detective-minded friend added, “I dreamed the vandals broke out of custody and they are using the old man’s cabin for a hideout.”

“Anybody can dream anything!” I answered him.

He scoffed at my doubts. “All right, you wait and see. Here, let me take another look at the code.”

He unfolded the letter, turned it over, and squinted at the ABCs on the back. Then he let out a whistle, which different ones of the gang heard and came running to see what was going on.

With that, Poetry gave me his secret wink, yawned, and tossed the letter in my direction, saying, “Bill answered the letter this morning. Hey, everybody, hadn’t we better get going? We want to get the old man’s lawn mowed and all the other chores done before dark!”

The path through the swamp, as always, was one of the most interesting places in the whole Sugar Creek territory. So many important things had happened there. One of the most important I remembered when we passed a certain narrow place near the muskrat pond. It was the rescue of the Till boys’ father, John Till, who, when he was drunk one night, wandered off the path and sank all the way down to his chin before we heard him crying for help and rescued him.

“Right out there is where we saved Bob and Tom’s father’s life!” Dragonfly called out as we went panting past.

John Till and his two boys were about the only other people who knew the safe way through the swamp—except, of course, our fathers.

In about ten more minutes, we were through the swamp and up in the hills and inside Old Man Paddler’s clapboard cabin. The late afternoon sun was pouring in through the dusty windows, which we decided we would have to wash the next time we came up.

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