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at a basketball game or something, then mess up Cabin Four twice as bad as this one,” Vinnie said.
    “Get deer crap from the woods and smear it on their walls,” said Patrick.
    “Catch some snakes and put them in their bunks,” said Hernando.
    “Don’t worry,” Barry said. “We can do a lot better than this.” He opened his palm and gestured around the cabin. “A stunt like they pulled takes very little creativity. When we get our revenge, it’ll be
spectacular.”

CAMP OLYMPIA BULLETIN
Wednesday, August 4
    CABIN 6 PADDLERS DOMINATE RACE
    Canoe Points Give Sixers Overall Lead
    The Cabin 6 team of Troy Hiller and Avery Moretti captured the two-man canoe race on Tuesday, edging the Sullivan-Singh boat from Cabin 2. The Sixers picked up more points with a third-place finish.
    Cabin 6 is leading the race toward the Big Joe Trophy, despite being winless in basketball and softball. The big points in those sports and water polo will be awarded after the play-offs.
    Monahan Is Top Dog in Eating Contest
    Cabin 3 sensation Barry Monahan flabbergasted the experts Tuesday night, downing 13 hot dogs in 15 minutes to knock off defending champion Luis Vega of Cabin 5. Vega, trailing early, roared back in the final minutes and closed with 12 dogs, one better than he did a year ago. But that wasn’t enough to overcome Monahan, who said he could have eaten more, “but I didn’t like the mustard they put on the dogs.”
    Standings

Total Points
Cabin 6 20
Cabin 2 19
Cabin 3 12
Cabin 1 11
Cabin 5 11
Cabin 4 5

CHAPTER FIVE
Big Joe’s First Victim
    I t was just about fully dark, and the Monahan brothers had a fire going in the metal trash barrel behind the cabin. Barry had thrown in a long damp branch of green pine, so sparks and smoke were shooting into the air.
    Riley had just brushed his teeth over at the bathhouse and was taking the long way around when Barry caught sight of him and called him over. “Hey, Night Crawler!”
    “What?” Riley asked. He was still wary around Barry. He never knew what the guy might pull.
    Barry gestured toward the barrel. “Warm your hands,” he said. “It feels good.”
    “I’m plenty warm.” But Riley stood by the barrel and held out his palms just to seem friendly.
    “The smoke keeps the bugs away,” Patrick said. “So, that was another awful dinner, huh?”
    Riley rolled his eyes. They’d had salmon croquettes and mushy carrots. He’d tried to fill up on bread, but everybody else’d had the same idea and there wasn’t any extra. So he bought a Milky Way at the Trading Post after the basketball game—they’d finally got a win—but he wasn’t satisfied.
    Patrick pointed his thumb toward the cabin. “We still got a stash.”
    “Candy?”
    “Chicken.”
    Riley’s eyes opened wide. “You still have that Jersey Chicken from
Saturday
?”
    “It’s all good,” Patrick said. “You’ll see.” He tossed a handful of pinecones into the barrel and went inside the cabin. He came back with a black trash bag and pulled out the remaining red and white bucket. A soiled gray sock came out, too.
    “Your laundry?” Riley asked.
    “Some of it. I figured the dampness would help keep the chicken moist. Don’t worry, I kept the lid on the bucket.”
    The bucket still held a small breast, a wing, and a couple of thighs. “I threw some ice in the bag on Monday, too, to keep it fresh,” Patrick said. “And it’s been in my locker all this time, out of the heat.”
    Riley peered into the bucket and sniffed. The heavily breaded chicken didn’t smell fresh, but it didn’t smell rotten either.
    “Have some,” Patrick said, taking a bite out of one of the thighs. “It’s still okay. We been eating it every night.”
    Riley took the wing. The skin was slick and the meat was dried out, but it had that unmistakable Jersey Chicken flavor, salty and peppery and a little garlicky. He gnawed it right down to the bones: skin, cartilage, gristle—it all tasted good. The best thing he’d