Colonial Madness Read Online Free PDF

them,” Uncle Max told the driver, pointing us out.
    The man nodded and tucked the sign under one arm.
    â€œThis way, please.” He gestured for us to follow him to ashuttle van with an ARCHIBALD FARMS decal on the side.
    â€œArchibald Farms?” I said. “I didn’t know Great-Aunt Muriel was a . . . a woman of the land.”
    I realized I didn’t know much about her at all.
    â€œIs that how she got so rich?” asked Angel.
    â€œThe second time,” said Uncle Deke. “The first time was from steel during World War II.”
    â€œShe was one of the few respected women in the upper echelons of the business world back then,” added Aunt Zoe.
    I shook my head. “That doesn’t make sense. A woman at her attorney’s office said she was in the business of knowing other people’s business.”
    The adults all chuckled.
    â€œI don’t doubt it,” said Uncle Deke. “Great-Aunt Muriel knew your parents had eloped weeks before anyone else.”
    Mom smirked. “She was a crafty one. Always one step ahead.”
    I smiled, picturing Great-Aunt Muriel in her thick rope of pearls, making deals at a table of scowling businessmen. Something told me she had no problem holding her own in that crowd. If she were still alive, I might have actually liked her a little.
    â€œPlease watch your heads as you enter the vehicle,” said the driver, “and place any belongings that aren’t medicallynecessary in the back.” He popped open the rear door. “They’ll be returned to you when you leave the contest.”
    Mom handed over our backpack (we’d eaten the bananas on the plane), and we climbed into the passenger side of the van. Dylan climbed in next, pausing long enough to fart beside my seat before walking back to his.
    â€œGross!” I screeched, punching him in the arm.
    â€œGet used to it,” he said. “That’s the smell of victory. My victory.”
    I looked to Mom for help, and she shrugged. “Things are going to smell a lot worse by the end of two weeks.”
    â€œIf you last that long,” said Dylan.
    I whirled around to look at him. “Care to make a side bet, smart aleck?”
    Dylan snorted. “You want to give me extra money? Sure.”
    â€œNot money,” I said. “Pride. If you lose, you have to wear one of my mom’s dresses on the first day back to school. And I want photographic proof.”
    Dylan hesitated a second before nodding. “Fine. And if you lose, you have to do my homework for a month. I’ll e-mail it. And it’ll be hard .”
    â€œAwww, still can’t stack the blocks by yourself?” I asked. “Deal.” I extended a hand, and we shook. His fingers were sticky.
    He leaned back in his seat. “I’m going to enjoy kicking your butt no matter what the stakes.”
    â€œStakes . . . steaks,” said Mom, rubbing her stomach. “Now I’m hungry again.”
    â€œSteaks would definitely hit the spot,” said Uncle Max with a chuckle.
    â€œLunch will be waiting when you reach the estate,” said the shuttle driver, climbing into his seat.
    â€œAre we the only ones competing?” I asked. If that was the case, the odds weren’t looking too bad.
    â€œNo, some of the others are already at the property, and the rest arrive tonight.” He pulled away from the curb. “Ten families in total.”
    Dylan fiddled with a monitor and DVD player on the ceiling.
    â€œDoes this thing get cable?” he asked.
    At least there was one family I didn’t have to worry about.
    â€œActually, I do have a little something for you to watch,” the driver said, reaching back to offer a disc.
    I took it and slid it into the player.
    Great-Aunt Muriel appeared on-screen, wearing a neck-choking blouse clasped shut with a huge diamond brooch. A frown creased both sides of her face, giving her a