Detective Camp Read Online Free PDF Page A

bag.As he was pulling it up to his chin, the moonlight fell on one of his pajama sleeves. He noticed something yellow on the cuff. It looked like a paint smudge.
    Dink touched the smudge, and some of the yellow came off on his finger. It definitely looked like paint. And it was still sticky.
    Where had he rubbed against wet paint? Then he remembered the painting on the table in the lodge dining room.
    “Oh no,” he muttered to himself as he closed his eyes. He hoped he hadn’t damaged the painting.
    As he fell asleep, he pictured himself being sued for a million dollars for ruining a masterpiece.

A raucous scream brought Dink out of a deep sleep. He bolted up off his pillow. Through sleepy, startled eyes, Dink peered out the window over his bed.
    Ronald was sitting on a fence post. The rooster flapped his wings and crowed once again. “COCK-A-DOODLE-DOO!”
    Dink yawned, checked his watch, and saw that it was a little after five-thirty. He noticed the small yellow paint smear on his pajama cuff again. He unzipped his sleeping bag and lookedaround the cabin. Everyone else was still sound asleep. Buzzy was snoring loudly, with his mouth open.
    Dink dressed quickly, put on sneakers, and left the cabin. A few stars still shone, although a dawn-pink glow was appearing through the trees.
    He hurried across the dewy lawn to the back of the lodge. Opening the kitchen door quietly, he peered inside. No Mario. No anyone. He stepped inside and tiptoed to the dining room.
    The first thing he checked was the box of gloves. The ring was still there, exactly where Ruth Rose had left it. Then he removed the towel and looked at the painting. Now he could see that it was a winter scene on a farm.
    He peered closely at a yellow house. He figured that was where his pajama sleeve had picked up paint. The house looked fine, so he hadn’t ruined it.Gently, he placed a fingertip on the house—the paint was dry.
    He replaced the towel, feeling better. He let himself out of the lodge and nearly bumped into Remote.

    “What’re you doing here?” Dink asked.
    The goat playfully butted his head against Dink’s leg.
    “Sorry, no cookies,” Dink said, giving the goat’s head a rub.
    Remote turned away and trotted toward one side of the barn. Dink followed him. They came to a small chicken coop enclosed by a wire fence. Dink could hear low clucking sounds, and he could definitely smell chicken manure!
    Next to the henhouse stood a large doghouse with straw spilling out the door. Remote stepped inside and gracefully lay down with all four hooves tucked beneath his body.
    “Okay, you go back to sleep,” Dink said. “We don’t eat till eight o’clock.”
    Just then Dink heard someone approaching on the gravel driveway. Hewalked around the barn and saw Mario stepping down from a black truck.
    Dink stood still, feeling as if he’d been caught doing something wrong.
    Mario walked toward the kitchen door, yawning. He saw Dink and stopped. “Early bird, eh?” he said.
    “Ronald woke me up,” Dink said. “I decided to look around.”
    “Want to help?” Mario asked. “Can you gather some eggs? There’s a basket inside the coop.”
    “Sure,” Dink said. “Um, do chickens bite?”
    Mario laughed. “They might peck, but only if they’re scared. Talk to them gently so they know you’re not an enemy. If they’re on a nest, just move your hand under them slowly and get the eggs.”
    Dink opened the coop door. He saw about a dozen chickens, all on nests builtalong one wall. He found the basket hanging on a nail by the door.
    The chickens all stared at Dink as he approached their roosting places. “Good morning, you guys,” Dink said in what he hoped was a soothing voice. “Got eggs?”
    He reached out one hand slowly and slid it beneath a plump white hen. She cocked her head at him but didn’t seem to mind his hand. Dink’s fingers found two warm eggs.
    Grinning, he set them in the basket and moved to the next nest. Five minutes