Agent Angus Read Online Free PDF

Shahid. He shrugs. Now that the Watchman has started talking, he doesn’t seem so bad. And this seems like a clear-cut bargain. So I tell him about Ella’s stolen sketchbook and Mr. Wilder.
    He doesn’t say a word the entire time. When I’m finished, he just stands there with a funny twitch in his throat. Then he reaches under the counter and pulls out a roll of Life Savers candy. He puts them in the bag with the sunglasses and says, “Thanks. That’ll be thirty dollars even.”
    I hand over the money and take the bag. “Uh. Thank you.”
    â€œLife Savers?” Shahid mutters.
    â€œI give them to my special customers,” the Watchman says. “Good luck, boys.”
    â€œThanks,” we say together and leave. As the door closes behind us, we hear him almost-burping again. Loudly.

Chapter Seven
    â€œMaybe we could try duct tape,” I say.
    â€œYou want to tape them to my head?” Shahid’s voice is shrill. “No way.”
    When the Watchman told us the sunglasses were large, we should have asked how large. I don’t believe anybody has a head that big. These shades would be oversized on a gorilla. They make Shahid look like an alien. Or like those magnified pictures of houseflies with their big bulbous eyes. That wouldn’t be so bad, but if he makes the slightest movement, the glasses fall off.
    â€œI’ve got a better idea,” Shahid says. “What if you wear them over your regular glasses? We could use twist ties to attach the arms together.”
    We try this, and it works—sort of. The only problem is that the frame of my regular glasses blocks the rearview mirror on the sunglasses. We make adjustments with the twist ties and lower the sunglasses so the mirror is visible below my frames.
    â€œAll right.” I give Shahid thumbs-up. “Let’s practice.”
    We start practicing with my mother. She’s in the kitchen, talking on the phone. I back up to the doorway, and Shahid stands in front of me. The idea is that I’ll watch my mother in the mirror and tell Shahid what I see. He’ll watch her too and confirm that I’m seeing clearly.
    â€œAll I can see is the ceiling,” I say. “The angle of the mirror is all wrong.”
    We retreat to our lab downstairs and adjust the twist ties again. This time, we raise the sunglasses so that the mirror sits above my regular frames.
    We return to the kitchen doorway and take up our places.
    â€œNow all I can see is the floor,” I complain.
    â€œTry lowering your head,” Shahid advises. “And raise only your eyes to the mirror.”
    I try this. “It’s a strain on my eyeballs, but I can see her,” I tell Shahid.
    â€œExcellent. What is she doing?”
    â€œShe’s talking on the phone,” I report. “And now she’s…”
    â€œAngus?” Mom says. “What are you boys up to now? And why are you holding your head like that? Is something wrong with your neck?”
    â€œIt’s fine, Mom,” I mutter. I straighten up to prove this and add, “We were just leaving.”
    Back in the lab, we’re silent for a time. I remove the sunglasses and catch Shahid gazing fondly at Gordon. Gordon doesn’t have eyes, but he has a pair of adapted webcams for visuals.
    â€œMaybe after we find Ella’s sketchbook,” I say, “we can put a reverse gear in Gordon. Then we can put the sunglasses on him so he’ll have a rearview mirror.”
    â€œYou think?” Shahid grins. “That would be sweet.”
    I nod. “It would. But for now, what if we put a rubber band around your head to hold the sunglasses on?”
    The look on his face tells me he’s going to refuse. Briefly, I think I can read some things.
    â€œYou could fluff your hair over the elastic so it wouldn’t be obvious,” I add.
    â€œ Fluff my hair?”
    â€œYou know what I mean. Comb it over.