Too Hot to Handle Read Online Free PDF

lawn needed cutting. Indeed, the place needed a thorough cleaning-up.
    “There you are,” said Mrs. Finch. “Your work is cut out for you. Put all the leaves and twigs into that big rubbish can there.
     When you’re ready for the lawn mower, it’s in the garage.”
    The boys started working. Slowly but surely the yard began to look a lot better.
    Some time later Mrs. Finch came out of the cottage. She had changed into a pair of jeans and had put a white painter’s cap
     on her head.She certainly did not look like the Mrs. Finch who belonged to social clubs and wanted Penwood to have less sports and more
     art and music.
    “Doing fine, boys,” she said. “Look, I have to get back to Penwood for a few minutes. I’m all out of kerosene. And I can’t
     heat water without kerosene. The kitchen floor needs washing terribly. I’ll be back before you can say Peter Piper picked
     a peck of pickled peppers.”
    She got into her car and drove off.
    “I hope she’ll be back,” muttered Bonesy quietly.
    “You don’t think she’s going to leave us here, do you?” said David.
    They finished cleaning up the yard. They took the mower out of the garage and started to cut the grass. It wasn’t a power
     mower. The grass was nearly six inches high, and it took both boys to push the mower through it.
    Once they paused and wiped their brows
     

    on their shirtsleeves. Trees provided beautiful shade over most of the lawn, but the afternoon was scorching hot.
    “She should be back by now,” said David.
    “Wonder what time it is,” said Bonesy.
    Neither one had a watch. David walked to the cottage. He opened the door and looked inside. A clock was on the wall above
     the kitchen table.
    Five minutes after three!
    He closed the door and ran back to Bonesy.
    “Bonesy! It’s five after three!”
    “Geez Louise!” cried Bonesy. “Isn’t she ever coming back?”
    They kept mowing the lawn, worrying more every minute. At last they finished mowing, and David went to see what time it was
     now.
    Twenty minutes of four.
    “Something’s happened,” said David. “Maybe she got into an accident or something.”
    Bonesy’s face was red. “Boy! What are we going to tell Coach Beach?”
    “We’ll have to tell him the truth. What else?”
    They sat on the grass with their arms crossed over their knees. They were mad, disgusted and afraid. Mad and disgusted with
     Mrs. Finch, and afraid of what the coach was going to say.
    This is the last time I’ll ever do this, thought David angrily. The last time!
    The next time David looked at the clock it was ten minutes of five.
    “Let’s walk home,” said Bonesy. “Those train tracks will take us straight to Penwood.”
    There were railroad tracks along the side of the lake. A freight train went over it once a day.
    Bonesy rose and brushed the grass off his pants. He opened the gate and walked down to the tracks.
    David watched him a moment. Then he rose and followed Bonesy. Bonesy was walking rapidly, his long legs stepping on every
     other tie.
    David followed him awhile, but it bothered him. They couldn’t just walk away like this. They just couldn’t.
    He stopped walking. “Bonesy!” he yelled.
    Bonesy paused and looked around. “Oh, come on!” he said.
    “We can’t, Bonesy,” said David. “She might come any minute. If she doesn’t see us she’ll get worried. Let’s go back. We’ll
     walk up the hill. Maybe we’ll meet her coming down.”
    Bonesy looked at him a moment. David thought that Bonesy would put up an argument, but Bonesy didn’t.
    “Maybe you’re right,” he said. “But, boy, I’ll never do this again!”
    They retraced their steps to the cottage. David saw that they had forgotten to put the lawn mower back into the garage. They
     did, then started walking up the hill.
    They had covered nearly half a mile when David stopped and stared.
    “Bonesy,” he said, pointing straight ahead. “Look!”
    Coming slowly down the hill toward them was Mrs.