Boys Rock! Read Free Page A

standstill this summer, one of the hottest on record.
    Lights shone now along College Avenue, however, and more people were out and about now that the air was a little cooler. Some of the shops stayed open till seven or eight or nine o’clock, and as Wally turned onto Main Street, he was sort of glad he had come. At least he could look over the comic books while he was in the bookstore.
    When he came to Oldakers’, he had to walk up one row of books and down another before he found Mike Oldaker, the owner, who was unloading a box of mystery books and putting them on a shelf.
    “Looking for anything in particular, Wally?” Mike asked.
    “Just you,” said Wally. “You see, we’re sort of… uh … putting out a newspaper….”
    “Let me guess,” said Mike. “Jake and Josh are doing it as part of the seventh-grade summer reading project, right? And you got roped into helping out.”
    Wally stared in amazement. “Right. How did you know?”
    “Because seventh graders get a project like this every year, and they always want to know if I’ll keep a stack of their newspapers in my store.”
    Wally gulped. “So … uh …”
    Mike smiled. “And every year it’s the same. It sounds like a good idea at the beginning, but when kids find out how much work’s involved, usually only two or three end up doing it. So what’s the name of your paper—have you thought of one yet?”
    “The
Hatford Herald
,” said Wally.
    “Okay. You’ve got yourself a deal. If you guys actually manage to print the first issue, and you do a good job, I’ll make space for you on the shelf by the window.”
    Wally could scarcely believe his good luck. Did this mean he wouldn’t have to walk all over Buckman knocking on doors? That he wouldn’t have to stand on the corner by the courthouse yelling, “The
Hatford Herald
! Come and get it!
Hatford Herald
! Absolutely free!”
    At that very moment Wally thought he heard a noise coming from under the floorboards. He glancedtoward the trapdoor in the hardwood floor of the old bookstore, the trapdoor that led to the cellar, where the boys had once trapped Caroline. It was closed. There was no sign of any workmen.
    Wally looked at Mike Oldaker, but the owner had gone back to unpacking books, picking them up two at a time and shoving them onto a shelf. There was another sound, sort of a slow, scraping sound, like someone clawing at the bare earth floor of that cellar.
    Wally turned to see if any other customers had noticed, but no one else seemed to have heard. Maybe he’d only imagined it, because Mike Oldaker didn’t let anyone go down there, where there was only dirt and dust and mice and cobwebs.
    But then … there it was again.
Scraping, scraping
…
clawing, clawing.
Very strange. “Mike?” Wally said.
    This time Mike stopped shelving books. This time he, too, took a quick look around, as though to see if any other customers were listening. Then he came back over to Wally, one finger to his lips.
    “You heard it too, didn’t you?” he said.
    Wally nodded. “What is it?”
    “Can you keep a secret?” Mike asked.
    Wally nodded again, even though he wasn’t sure. What was he supposed to say? That no, he couldn’t keep a secret?
    “You can’t tell anyone, not even your brothers,” said Mike. “When it’s time, I’ll let you know what you’re hearing down there, and your newspaper can have the story.”
    “But we’re only doing three issues!” Wally said. “The third one comes out the last week of July. Will you tell me before then?”
    “I hope so,” said Mike, looking mysterious.
    “Can’t you at least tell me what’s down there? We won’t print anything till you say so,” Wally said.
    Mike Oldaker leaned closer. “Bones,” he whispered.
    Wally’s back stiffened.
Oh
, no! He wasn’t going to fall for that! Last November, when a cougar had appeared around Buckman from time to time, but no one saw it long enough to be able to tell what it was, the newspaper