The Fire Within (The Last Dragon Chro) Read Online Free PDF Page A

—”
    “Point me to the shelf,” David said tiredly. “—unfortunately,” Mr. Bacon sighed, “they’re both in our other branch, in Wiggley.”
    David groaned and banged his head on the desk. Mr. Bacon grimaced. He removed a hankie from his jacket pocket and flicked it over the laminated surface.
    Just then, the woman with the toddler tapped David’s shoulder. “Can I make a suggestion? If you want to learn about squirrels, why don’t you just look outside?”David glanced through the plate glass windows, at the traffic rolling down Main Street.
    “The
other
way,” Mr. Bacon sighed.
    David turned. Through the far library windows he saw treetops swaying in the blustery wind.
    The woman said, “Haven’t you ever been to the library gardens? Goodness, you must be the only person in Scrubbley who hasn’t. Go through the gates at the end of the cul-de-sac. You’ll find all the squirrels you want in there.”
    “Thank you,” said David. “I’ll go and have a look.” He stood up. The woman took his seat. “Mr. Bacon,” he said, looking back, “what do you mean, ‘Mrs. P.’s got nothing to worry about’?”
    But Henry was immersed in his computer once more.
    David drummed his fingers and turned away. He had the feeling Mr. Bacon was plotting something, though what, precisely, he couldn’t say. All he knew as he exited the library was that something cold had touched him inside. Oddly, he thought about hisdragon, then; Gadzooks, sitting on the windowsill at home: a spiky silhouette against the rain-spattered glass. And, in that moment, something peculiar happened. In his mind’s eye David saw Gadzooks take his pencil from his mouth and try to scribble something down on his pad. The wind whistled and tugged at David’s hair. Ahead of him the treetops bristled and sighed. He shook himself once and Gadzooks disappeared. But as David clanked his way through the tall iron gates and entered the gardens for the very first time, he couldn’t shake off the bizarre idea that the dragon had been trying to tell him something.

G REENFINGERS G EORGE
     
    A few paces along the leaf-strewn path that led the way into the gardens proper, David halted by a noticeboard which read:
    WELCOME TO SCRUBBLEY LIBRARY GARDENS
     
    We hope you enjoy your visit
     
     
    “Thank you very much,” David muttered.
    “You what?” a rasping voice replied.
    A curious little man stepped out of a clump of laurel bushes.
    “Oh — sorry,” David called out, turning red. “I didn’t realize anyone was here.”
    The little man wiped his nose on his sleeve. Partlyhidden as he was in the shadow of the trees, he didn’t look much bigger than a garden gnome. He was wearing a tattered black padded jacket, and a gray canvas hat with a brim that flopped down like a fraying lampshade. One knee was poking out through his earth-stained pants. On his feet were a pair of work boots that were so big an elephant might have slopped around in them.
    David made a stab at proper conversation. “You’re not the library gardener by any chance, are you?”
    “And what if I was?”
    “You might be able to help me. I’m doing a sort of … nature study.”
    The little figure snorted and shuffled around. He went back into the bushes and emerged a moment later with a two-wheeled cart. He bumped it onto the paved path. “People call me ‘Greenfingers George’ —”
    “Pleased to meet you,” said David, holding out his hand.
    “— but to you, it’s Mr. Digwell.” George ignored thehandshake, preferring instead to scratch his backside through a hole in his pants. “Well? What is it you want?”
    Before David could say, the clock in the library tower bonged three times. David frowned and looked at his watch. It was eleven exactly. “Clock’s wrong,” he muttered.
    “No, it ain’t,” said George. “Everyone in Scrubbley knows exactly what time it is at three bongs o’ the library clock: eleven — one hour before my lunch. I’ve got half a