Dunc and the Scam Artists Read Free

andwhen we get through we’ll go over to Poncho’s Pizza Palace—my treat.”
    Dunc pulled out a list of retirement village residents who had been taken in, that he had cut out of the newspaper. The first lady on the list was very nice but really did not remember a lot. She kept asking the boys their names. She thought they were selling magazine subscriptions.
    But the next man remembered the con artist. He had driven a blue car, he said—but then again, it might have been brown.
    After that, every resident they talked to said one thing that was the same: The crook had gotten away with their life savings and property or the investments they had made. He had always told them he was their great-grandson, nephew, or close family friend.
    The police didn’t have any leads—this guy was smooth. They knew he worked with a partner but no one had any idea who the unseen accomplice was.
    Dunc and Amos rode in silence to the pizza place. Dunc was still immersed in thought while he was eating but Amos was really getting into his pizza. He had sauce in his hair, onhis nose, and all over his face, down his shirt, in his lap, and on his hands up to his elbows.
    They were just about to polish off an entire Poncho’s Big Blob—about like eating a cheese-covered Buick—when a group of girls walked past their table.
    “Melissa,” Dunc said, looking up. “Nice to see you.”
    Melissa paused, smiled at Dunc, then looked down at Amos—covered in sauce and cheese. She turned and walked away.
    “I guess she didn’t know you.” Dunc watched the girls go over to the video games. “Look Amos, there has to be a way to catch this guy. We can’t just let him get away with it.”
    “That’s probably it,” Amos said.
    “What?”
    “She probably didn’t see me because of the sauce and cheese. She won’t know it was me.”
    “Amos, we’ve got more important stuff to worry about.”
    “Maybe I ought to clean up and go over there and try again.”
    “No Amos, I think you’ve impressed her enough for one day.”
    “What do you mean by that?”
    “Nothing. I figure she saw you finishing that Big Blob. Not too many guys can handle one of those.”
    “Do you really think so? I could order another one—”
    “Come on Amos, we’ve got work to do.”

Dunc paced up and down the sidewalk in front of his house. He racked his brain, but for once a solution did not present itself.
    “Will you stop it?” Amos yawned. “You’re making me tired. You’re not going to get anywhere on this one. You don’t even have a case. And if you did, you don’t have any proof. Besides, if we don’t get finished with that current events assignment, we’ll both be in hot water.”
    “That’s it Amos! You’re a genius.”
    “Don’t tell me—you’ve come up with a plan involving me and hot water.”
    “No Amos. Don’t you get it? Proof. We need proof. Why didn’t I think of this before? I knowwhere the proof is. It’s buried in Mrs. Dell’s shed. The creep is posing as her nephew and using her place to hide from the cops. He’s buried the evidence in the dirt floor of the shed.”
    “Right, and we’ll just casually walk up to the door and ask to dig holes all over the poor woman’s shed.”
    “Use your head Amos. We’ll have to do it at night, when they’re all asleep. I’ll meet you at the usual place when you’re all clear.”
    At midnight it was darker than usual. Both boys were waiting just outside the gate in front of Betsy Dell’s house.
    “Everyone is asleep,” Dunc whispered.
    “How can you be sure they’re asleep?” Amos asked. “Do you always go to sleep at the stroke of midnight? My uncle Alfred, the one who picks his toes, he never goes to sleep at night. He sleeps in the daytime, sitting in front of the TV.”
    “I don’t see any lights on in the house. We’d better go ahead and do it now whether they’re asleep or not. If we don’t we won’t get back on time.”
    They left their bikes near the fence