Dinosaur Hideout Read Online Free PDF

asked.
    “I’m not sure,” Dad answered. “You’d have to ask your mother. She’d probably know.”
    “Do you know how she died?” Daniel held his breath.
    “Some mysterious illness. Kept getting worse. It was like her whole system was being slowly poisoned.”
    “Poisoned?” Daniel gasped and his heart jumped. “Did they ever find out what it was?”
    “No...no one is really sure what happened. The...”
    Brinng. Brinng. Dad’s cellphone.
    Daniel groaned inwardly. Now he wasn’t going to find out anything more. He poked the pitchfork around in the straw, trying to look like he was busy as he listened to Dad’s side of the conversation.
    “Hi Doug.” Dad listened intently for a few moments. “Sounds interesting. Yes, I planned to bring Libby along. Could be just what we need. Lord knows we have to do something.”
    Daniel slowed his pace even more, trying to understand what they were talking about, but he couldn’t make much sense from Dad’s end.
    “Yeah, thanks. Might as well be prepared. Not looking forward to that either. Bye.” Dad turned off his phone and closed it thoughtfully.
    Daniel eyed him, holding back from asking about the call.
    Dad slipped his cellphone back into his parka pocket, and reached for his fork again. “Maybe we should get extra bales down from the loft right now while we have some time. Doug Lindstrom just heard on the radio that there’s a storm approaching sometime in the next couple of days. And I know the temperature’s really supposed to drop tonight.”
    “Okay.” Daniel sighed, stabbed the fork into the newly cut bale, and gave it a twist before he tossed a load into the next stall. Just what he really wanted to do! Lug heavy bails down from the loft.
    As they hauled straw into the stalls, they worked together in silence. Daniel puffed at the exertion each time he threw a forkful, trying to keep up with Dad’s quick easy swings.
    After a while he asked, “How can Pederson afford to keep living on his place?”
    Dad kept working as he answered. “I don’t know how he pays his taxes Son, but I do know he probably owns that quarter and I doubt he ever borrowed any money to do any farming, so he wouldn’t have outstanding loans to pay off. His father was one of the first homesteaders in the area.”
    “His father. How old is Pederson anyway?” Daniel persisted, as he climbed onto the top railing and surveyed the barn.
    “My guess would be in his seventies, but no one seems to know for sure. He left the area for a long time. I suppose he lives on his pension now.” Dad set the pitchfork against the wall.
    “Okay, enough questions. Time to get back to work.”
    He strode to the back of the barn. “We have to get these chores done so we can have an early supper. Your mother and I have a meeting to go to tonight at the Lindstroms.”
    “About the oil company?” Daniel persisted.
    “Yes. You finish in here and I’ll water the horses outside. We’ll talk later.” Dad left the barn abruptly, snapping the door behind him before Daniel had a chance to ask anything more.
    ~

    A t the supper table, Daniel squirmed in his seat, his butt slipping across the vinyl covering. Cheryl cooed in her high chair between him and Mom, playing with her mashed potatoes and gravy in her special bowl. Dad’s head was bent over his plate, while Mom tried to feed Cheryl.
    The kitchen was a large square, with the Formica table placed plunk in the middle and pale yellow cupboards stretching almost all the way around three sides. The only thing that had changed much since Daniel’s grandmother’s days were Mom’s touches of homemade wall hangings, oven mitts, and curtains in a soft orange draping over the windows, giving a warm glow to the room. The oven had been on for a couple of hours, and loaves of fresh bread lay steaming on the countertop next to an apple crumble – his favourite dessert, right after Saskatoon berry pie.
    Stabbing a sparerib from his chipped china plate –