Dunc and the Scam Artists

Dunc and the Scam Artists by Gary Paulsen Page A

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Authors: Gary Paulsen
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remembered. I told Dad I would deliver these real estate papers for him. Some lady wants a map of the retirement village. It won’t take long. Want to come?”
    They turned around and pedaled their bikes across town and down a country lane on the west side. By the time they got to the house where the old lady lived, it was midafternoon.
    “You didn’t tell me we were going to go all the way to China,” Amos shouted at Dunc, whohad finally stopped up the road in front of an old rusty gate.
    “We’re here. I think. At least this is the address on the paper.”
    Amos looked past the gate to the old weather-beaten house. It stood at least two stories tall and was badly in need of a coat of paint. White curtains flapped in the open windows like dancing ghosts.
    “It looks kinda spooky to me Dunc. I don’t think anybody even lives here.”
    “Well, this is the address. Come on.”
    Dunc knocked on a front door that seemed ready to fall off its hinges. He was about to turn and leave when the door opened just a bit.
    “What do you want?” a loud male voice boomed through the crack.
    “We, ah—we are looking for the Dell house. These papers are for Mrs. Betsy Dell,” stammered Dunc.
    “I’ll take those,” the voice said.
    “I was told to make sure and give them to Mrs. Dell personally.”
    The door slammed shut.
    “Real friendly people your dad does businesswith. Why didn’t you just give the man the papers so we could get out of here?” Amos said.
    “Don’t you think that something’s wrong here? That guy was pretty weird.” Dunc wrinkled his eyebrows and stared at the house.
    “Oh, no. I’ve seen that look before. Let’s go before you get me into something we’ll both regret.”
    “Let’s just take a look around first. Then I promise we’ll go.” Dunc headed off the front porch and back around the side toward an old shed.
    “Right.” Amos sighed.
    But he followed.

“Okay. Let’s see what we’ve got,” Dunc said in his most sleuthlike voice.
    “We don’t have anything,” Amos said as he looked over his friend’s shoulder at the list he was making. “Yesterday you found some soft dirt in an old lady’s shed, with a shovel nearby. So what? It could be anything—we wouldn’t have even gone in that shed if you hadn’t been so nosy.”
    “Suspicious,” Dunc corrected and scratched his head and looked up at Amos. “Doesn’t it seem funny to you that we couldn’t get past that creepy guy to see Mrs. Dell? On top of that, we find very fresh, soft dirt in the shed,where someone obviously buried something—or someone.”
    Amos shook his head. “No, it doesn’t seem funny to me at all. Those things can both be easily explained. Besides, if you’re really all that concerned, why don’t you just call the police and let them check it out?”
    “We need to tie it all together so we have enough evidence to nab the creep.”
    “Stop talking like that. I’ve told you before, you watch too many cop shows.”
    “Look Amos, I told my dad. He wasn’t concerned. I don’t think the cops will be either—yet.”
    “I can understand that. I’m not concerned and I’ve been in on it right from the start. Come on, let’s go down to the river or play video games or something normal for a change.”
    Dunc wasn’t paying any attention. He was thinking out loud. “What we need is a plan. We could scale the wall and climb in a top-story window. Or maybe we could learn karate and take the guy out.”
    Amos shook his head. His friend’s crazy ideas were nothing new, but this time he hadhis mind made up. Nothing could make him get involved in this. Not even an army could force him to take on that guy who had yelled through the crack in the door. If there was something weird going on out there, he was certainly not going to be involved in it. No way.
    Dunc had that strange look on his face. “I think I know how to do it. It won’t be hard at all. In fact, you’ll probably enjoy your

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