Dunc and Amos Go to the Dogs

by Gary Paulsen

  OTHER YEARLING BOOKS YOU WILL ENJOY:

  THE WINTER ROOM, Gary Paulsen

  THE HAYMEADOW, Gary Paulsen

  THE COOKCAMP, Gary Paulsen

  THE VOYAGE OF THE FROG, Gary Paulsen

  THE BOY WHO OWNED THE SCHOOL, Gary Paulsen

  THE RIVER, Gary Paulsen

  THE MONUMENT, Gary Paulsen

  HOW TO EAT FRIED WORMS, Thomas Rockwell

  CHOCOLATE FEVER, Robert Kimmel Smith

  BOBBY BASEBALL, Robert Kimmel Smith

  YEARLING BOOKS are designed especially to entertain and enlighten young people. Patricia Reilly Giff, consultant to this series, received her bachelor’s degree from Marymount College and a master’s degree in history from St. John’s University. She holds a Professional Diploma in Reading and a Doctorate of Humane Letters from Hofstra University. She was a teacher and reading consultant for many years, and is the author of numerous books for young readers.

  For a complete listing of all Yearling titles,

  write to Dell Readers Service,

  P.O. Box 1045, South Holland, IL 60473.

  Published by

  Bantam Doubleday Dell Books for Young Readers

  a division of

  Bantam Doubleday Dell Publishing Group, Inc.

  1540 Broadway

  New York, New York 10036

  Copyright © 1996 by Gary Paulsen

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law.

  The trademarks Yearlinge® and Dell® are registered in the U.S. Patent and Trademark Office and in other countries.

  eISBN: 978-0-307-80397-9

  v3.1

  Contents

  Cover

  Other Yearling Books You Will Enjoy

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  “I don’t mean to be critical or anything, but this place smells worse than my uncle Alfred when he takes off his shoes.”

  Amos was standing by the window holding his nose and trying to wave some fresh air into the room. Duncan—Dunc—Culpepper, his best friend for life, was changing the paper in the cage of a new litter of kittens. “That’s one of the disadvantages of doing volunteer work at the city pound.”

  “You’d think they’d get some spray or something. This is really bad.”

  “It could be a lot worse. You’re lucky you only have to work here for a week. That’s all Judge Simmons gave you for creaming him in the park that day.”

  Amos sighed. “Some people take things too seriously. It’s not like he had broken bones or anything.”

  “He had to go to the emergency room.”

  “Big deal. The doctor said it was only a slight concussion. The way he carried on, you’d have thought he was really hurt.”

  Dunc closed the cage. “He said you were a menace to society and should be locked up. By the way, you never did tell me exactly how you managed to run him down.”

  “It wasn’t all my fault. I was taking Scruff for a walk in the park—”

  “I thought that was your sister’s job.”

  “It is. But Amy knows how much I hate to do it. Somehow she always makes sure she’s not around when Scruff needs to go for a walk. Anyway, we were walking along minding our own business when I heard the phone ring. It was that pay phone in the corner of the park, near the snow-cone stand?”

  Dunc nodded. “I know the one.”

  “I was pretty sure it was Melissa calling to see if she could meet me someplace. Before I left home, I told everybody to let Melissa know I would be in the park when she called.”

  Dunc nodded again. Amos had it bad for a girl named Melissa Hansen. He had been in love with her ever since Dunc could remember. The problem was, Melissa didn’t share those feelings. Whenever Amos was around, she had a way of looking at him as if he weren’t really there—sort of the way you look through a window.

  Amos continued, “You know how she likes me to get it on that all-important first ring?” He didn’t wait for Dunc to answer. “I started moving on the first beat. My form was great. Head up, arms pumping. I looked better than one of those marathon runners.”

  Dunc waited.

  “The only problem was, I forgot that I had tied Scruff’s leash to my belt loop, on account of he likes me about as much as I like him, and he’s always trying to get away. When I started for the phone, I dragged him a few feet, but then he saw his chance and decided to start running too. Only he kept going after I reached the phone.”

  “Did you answer it?”

  “Not quite. Judge Simmons chose that exact moment to step out onto the sidewalk with Brutus, his Great Dane. My border collie ran underneath Brutus and wrapped his leash around the dog’s hind legs and then around the judge. I’m pretty sure he did it on purpose. It still might have worked out okay if that park bench hadn’t been in the way. Did you know they cement those things into the ground?”

  “Was that when the judge fell over and bashed his head on the sidewalk?”

  Amos nodded. “When I hit that bench, Scruff hit the end of his leash. The judge didn’t have a chance. Right before he passed out, he told me he would send me to the electric chair if it was the last thing he ever did.”

  “Then I guess it’s lucky he only gave you a week of volunteer work here at the pound.”

  Amos sniffed the air. “You call this lucky?”

  Dunc patted a basset hound. “It’s not so bad. You’ll get used to it after a while. Besides, there are a lot of neat animals down here. Take Roger over there.” Dunc moved to the large cage on the end of the row and stroked the German shepherd. “He’s big but lovable.” The dog licked Dunc’s hand and barked as if he understood.

  A smaller terrier in the middle of the second row of cages started yelping.

  “Look, Amos, Martha’s jealous.”

  “Tell her not to worry herself. In a week we’re out of here. Then she can be jealous of some other suckers.”

  The big metal door that led to the animal compound opened. A short stout woman with streaked gray hair and a sharp pointed nose looked in over the top of her glasses. “You boys are supposed to be cleaning those cages, not playing with the dogs. Hop to.”

  “Yes, Ms. Craig.” Dunc opened one of the cages and pulled out the old paper. “We’ll be through in a few minutes.”

  “Well, see to it that you are. I won’t have any lollygagging on my shift.” She turned and slammed the door.

  “Real friendly lady.” Amos filled the water bowl and set it inside the cage. “She kind of reminds me of someone.”

  “Who?”

  “The wicked witch in The Wizard of Oz.”

  Dunc grinned. “She does seem to have a problem with us working here. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she didn’t want our help.”

  “Hold still, Amos. How am I ever going to get a good look at it if you keep wiggling like that?”

  “You’d wiggle too if you’d just been attacked by a vicious animal.”

  Dunc looked at him. “The kitten in row three hardly qualifies as a vicious animal.” He examined Amos’s finger. “I don’t see any blood. I think you’re going to live.”

  “Go ahead. Make fun. When I die from rabies, I’ll say I told you
so.” Amos slid off the office desk and started searching through the cabinets.

  “What are you looking for? Ms. Craig told us specifically to stay out of those cabinets.”

  “She told us to stay out of the main office, too, but here we are.”

  Dunc frowned. “That’s different. I came in here because I thought you were really hurt.”

  Amos reached for a roll of gauze bandages. “I am really hurt—you just can’t see it. I probably have internal bleeding.”

  Dunc moved toward the door. “We’d better get out of here before she gets back. She doesn’t seem like the understanding type.”

  He reached for the doorknob. It turned in his hand. The door opened, and a tall distinguished-looking man wearing an expensive suit and carrying a black bag stepped in.

  Amos looked up to see who it was and hit the cabinet door dead center with his head. Small bottles of vaccine, syringes, and bandages spilled off some of the shelves and fell out onto the table below.

  “Are you all right, young man?” The tall stranger stepped over to help him.

  “He won’t be if we don’t get this mess picked up before Ms. Craig gets back.” Dunc grabbed some of the bottles and started shoving them back on the shelf.

  “Why don’t you let me handle this?” The man smiled. “I’m the new veterinarian, Dr. Keene. I know how it should be arranged, and no one will be the wiser.”

  “Gee thanks, doc.” Amos rubbed his head. “That’s awful nice of you.”

  “Not at all. You boys go on back to whatever you were doing. I’ll be happy to straighten up in here.”

  Dunc pulled the door shut behind him. “So that’s the new vet. From the way he’s dressed, I’d say he does a pretty good business. I wonder what brings him down here today? I don’t remember there being any vaccinations scheduled or anything.”

  “Judge Simmons probably got him on some phony charge too.” Amos sat down on a bench in the hall and held his aching head. “Are we through yet?”

  “Almost. Why?”

  “I forgot to give my mom the number down here. Melissa’s probably been trying to reach me all afternoon.”

  Dunc thought about telling him that Melissa wouldn’t call him even if someone held the phone and dialed the number for her. But he decided not to. Instead he patted Amos on the shoulder. “You wait here. I’ll go make one last check to make sure everybody has food and water.”

  Amos leaned against the wall and looked around. Everything was painted white. The door, the cinder-block walls, the shelves—everything. “This place could use an interior decorator.”

  “What was that?” Dunc was just coming through the door carrying a soiled newspaper from one of the dog cages.

  “Nothing. I was just saying—ooohh, gross! You’re supposed to throw the used ones in the trash. That’s disgusting.”

  “I was changing the paper in Martha’s cage when I noticed this article. Listen to this headline: ‘Police are still baffled by dog-nappings.’ ”

  “Why would the police care about a few sleepy dogs?”

  “No, Amos. Not napping dogs. Dog-nappings. It means someone is going around stealing dogs. The article says the thief only goes for purebreds. So far he’s taken a Saint Bernard puppy, a beagle, a couple of Dobermans, a shepherd, and a cocker spaniel.”

  “Hey, I wonder if the thief would be interested in a border collie. I just happen to have one up for grabs.”

  “This isn’t funny, Amos. Someone is taking people’s pets. The lady who lost the spaniel is offering a big reward.”

  “How big is big?”

  “Two hundred and fifty dollars.”

  “You’re right, Dunc. This is serious. If we could find that poor lady’s dog, we’d be rolling in dough.”

  “What a way to spend an afternoon! First I spend most of the morning cleaning up doggy doo-doo, then I’m attacked by a savage beast, my skull is nearly split wide open, and now—”

  Dunc pedaled his bike up even with Amos. “Now we need to check on a lead. How else are we going to get that reward?”

  “I know, but do we have to talk to old Doc Woods? They say he’s too old to still be alive. And besides, he acts weird.”

  “Amos, I’m ashamed of you. Doc Woods is our best shot for getting some answers. For years he was the only veterinarian in town, and sometimes they still ask him to help out at those fancy dog shows. If anybody knows anything about these missing dogs, I bet it’s him.”

  Amos coasted his bike into the driveway of an old two-story house. They could hear dogs barking in the ground floor. He looked back at Dunc. “And that’s another thing. Who in their right mind would run a kennel right in their house?”

  Dunc put out his kickstand. “People say it’s because he loves animals. He hates to see them mistreated or abandoned, so he takes them to live with him.”

  “From the sound of it, he must have half the dog population in town living with him right now.”

  Dunc pressed the doorbell.

  The weathered old door creaked open. “Come in. Come in.” A little man with a cane in one hand and a sleek brown ferret in the other motioned them inside.

  The ferret bared its teeth and made a hissing noise at Amos. “Now stop that, Toby. We don’t want our guests to think they’re unwelcome.” The man let the ferret run down his arm and out of the room. “Don’t mind Toby. He forgets his manners sometimes. We’re not used to visitors.”

  Then, without another word the little man tottered down a long hall and disappeared. Dunc looked at Amos and shrugged. In a few minutes he was back.

  But he wasn’t alone.

  Doc Woods was carrying a giant boa constrictor on his shoulders. It looked bigger than he was. “Sorry to keep you waiting, boys. It’s Cynthia’s feeding time. She’s a wonderful girl, but she tends to get a little cranky if she’s not fed regularly.”

  Amos stepped behind Dunc. “What exactly does Cynthia eat?”

  Doc Woods stroked Cynthia’s back. She raised her head, obviously enjoying the attention. “Wild boas are capable of swallowing very large animals. They hang from trees and wait for unsuspecting victims. Their teeth turn inward, so once they capture something, their prey has no chance of escape.”

  Amos swallowed hard and started inching backward toward the door.

  “But in Cynthia’s case,” Doc Woods continued, “she has grown accustomed to a more domesticated diet. She mostly eats rats and an occasional mouse or two.”

  Amos let out a sigh of relief. “Way to go, Cynthia.”

  “If you boys will excuse me, I’ll only be a couple of minutes.”

  “No problem.” Amos nervously chewed on a fingernail. “Take your time.”

  “Would it be all right if we looked around at some of your dogs?” Dunc asked.

  The little man stopped and looked at him quizzically. “Are you interested in dogs, young man?”

  “Let’s just say, I’m getting more and more interested all the time.”

  “Then feel free to look. I’ll be back when I’ve finished feeding Cynthia.”

  Amos watched him round the corner. “Now’s our chance. Let’s get out of here before it’s too late. This guy is totally off his rocker.”

  Dunc moved around the front room looking inside the different cages.

  “Come on.” Amos opened the front door. “Haven’t you had enough dogs for one day? Let’s go before Cynthia decides to change her diet.”

  “Hmmm. This is interesting. Doc Woods has a Saint Bernard puppy.”

  “How cute. Now let’s go.”

  “You go on ahead, Amos. I’ll meet you later. I have a couple of questions for old Doc Woods, and I can’t wait to see how he answers them.”

  “I don’t know why you asked me over here if all you’re going to do is write on that dumb note pad and talk to yourself.” Amos kicked his shoes off and stretched out on Dunc’s bed.

  Dunc looked up from his desk. “Sorry, Amos. It’s just that this case has taken an interesting turn.
”

  “What case? What are you talking about?”

  “The one we’re working on. I’ve entered it in the computer as file number seven four eight. I’m calling it the Case of the Dastardly Dog Nappers. What do you think?”

  “I think you spent too much time over at Doc Woods’s house. He’s starting to rub off on you.”

  Dunc ignored him and looked back at his notes. “Here’s what we have so far. Someone has stolen several dogs—”

  “How do you know those dogs didn’t just run away? That’s how we were unlucky enough to get Scruff. One day he just showed up on our doorstep, and he’s been making my life miserable ever since.”

  “The paper said the police have determined that the dogs were stolen, okay? Now be quiet while I read the rest of the criminal’s MO.”

  “MO?”

  “Modus operandi. It means the way the criminal works.”

  “Remind me to tell your mother to cancel your subscription to Detective Monthly.”

  “Get serious, Amos. We could make a lot of money if we solve this one. You said so yourself.”

  “That’s the only reason I’m here. Otherwise I’d be MO-ing down at the arcade.”

  “Okay, we’ve got stolen dogs, all purebreds. Which means the thief knows what he’s looking for.”

  Amos picked up a model jet on Dunc’s dresser. “So you think this guy is selling them? Like maybe on the black market?”

  “Maybe, or he could just be collecting them. By the way, the glue on that jet is still wet.”

  Amos tried to put it down. His fingers were stuck—solid. He shook the model and pulled hard. Nothing.

  “Did you notice the number of purebreds over at Doc Woods’s earlier? He has almost every kind of dog that the paper mentioned.”

  Amos put his foot on the jet and pulled. “Are you saying you think old Doc Woods is the thief?”

  Dunc set his notes on the desk. He looked at Amos and sighed. He took one of Amos’s fingers and pried it loose from the jet. “It’s starting to look that way. When I tried to ask him about the purebreds, he changed the subject.”

  “Hey, watch it! You’re taking all the hide off!” Amos studied his raw fingertips. “Did it occur to you that Doc Woods is too old to go around stealing people’s dogs? He’d have to be able to jump fences and stuff.”