Free Treasure Fever! by Andy Griffiths

said Gretel.
    â€˜No, even better,’ said Jenny. ‘It’s a smiley-face badge!’
    â€˜And that’s it?’ said Jack. ‘That’s the treasure?’
    â€˜My mum says a smile is priceless,’ said Jenny, as she happily pinned the badge to the collar of her shirt.
    â€˜Yeah, but it’s not treasure, is it?’ Jack pointed out.
    â€˜No,’ said Jenny. ‘But I think it’s a really good sign. Let’s keep looking!’
    Grant fired up his buried-treasure detector again. This time he got halfway down the hill before it started vibrating and squealing.
    â€˜There’s something here,’ he said. ‘I can’t say whether it’s the treasure for sure, but it’s definitely something.’
    We got down and started digging again.
    This time we found an old whistle on a chain.
    â€˜Probably belonged to Mr Grunt,’ said Jack.
    Mr Grunt is the sports teacher. He’s very fond of blowing his whistle.
    â€˜Can I have it?’ said Newton. ‘I’ve always wanted a whistle. I can blow it if I get into trouble.’
    â€˜Sure,’ I said, handing it to Newton.
    Newton picked the dirt out of it and gave it a blow. It still worked. And it was LOUD. Pretty impressive for a whistle that had been buried for who knows how long. But as impressive as it was, it wasn’t the treasure.
    Grant started waving his buried-treasure detector over the ground again.
    It only took a few minutes before it started shaking uncontrollably.
    Suddenly Grant fell to his knees, then slumped sideways onto the ground.
    Smoke began to pour from the control box. An amazing screaming noise came from the headphones.
    Newton started blowing his whistle. ‘Danger!’ he yelled. ‘Get back, everyone! Dangerous danger!’
    I had to hand it to Newton. He sure knew what to do in a crisis.
    Grant was still lying on the ground.
    Then the buried-treasure detector blew up with a loud bang.
    Grant sat up, dazed. He took off the headphones and rubbed his ears.
    â€˜Are you all right?’ Jenny asked, kneeling beside him.
    â€˜Guess it needs a few adjustments,’ he replied.
    â€˜A few?’ said Jack. ‘I think it’s back to the drawing board on that one.’
    Meanwhile Gretel was on her knees, digging furiously in the spot where Grant’s buried- treasure detector had blown its top.
    â€˜Hey, look at this!’ she said, holding up a small object. ‘It’s a key!’
    We crowded around her.
    â€˜Can I have a look?’ I said.
    â€˜Sure,’ said Gretel, handing it to me.
    I rubbed the dirt off the key and examined it closely. It had an engraving of a skull and crossbones on it.
    â€˜It’s not the treasure,’ I said, ‘but it’s the next best thing. We’re definitely in the right spot.’
    â€˜Right spot for what?’ said a voice over my shoulder.
    I slipped the key into my pocket and turned around.
    It was Fred Durkin, with Clive leering over his shoulder.
    â€˜Yeah, McThrottle,’ said Clive. ‘Right spot for what?’
    â€˜Testing out Grant’s metal detector,’ I said.
    â€˜Is that all you were doing?’ Fred asked suspiciously.
    â€˜That’s all,’ I said.
    Fred looked at me. ‘If you’re up to something, McThrottle, I’m going to find out what it is.’
    Gretel stepped in. ‘He’s not up to anything,’ she said. ‘Run away and play now, boys.’
    Fred just stared at her. ‘Come on, Clive,’ he said. ‘This is getting boring.’
    We watched them retreat down the hill.
    â€˜It was lucky for them they left when they did,’ said Jack, punching his fist into his open palm. ‘I was just about to teach those two thickheads a lesson they would never forget.’
    â€˜I thought you had sore fingers,’ I said.
    â€˜Yeah, I did. But that was yesterday. They’re better