Free Cartboy Goes to Camp by L. A. Campbell Page B

other.”

    I was so tired and mad and defeated, I slammed my shovel into the ground. “Let’s just forget it,” I said.
    And that’s when I hit something hard. So hard, my shovel made a loud THONK.
    Cora bent over and frantically pulled away the loose dirt. There, buried a few feet underground, was an old wooden box.
    â€œLook,” said Cora. “There’s a carving of Chief Powhatan on the top.”
    We pulled the box out of the ground and took a closer look. “It’s locked!” she said. “Good thing you brought that ax.”
    !

    The ax! I grabbed it off the ground and tried to raise it above my head. “Hnnnhhhh…”
    â€œWait, Hal. Before you open the box, there’s something I want to tell you.”
    And then, Cora leaned in. And by that, I mean leaned in. Right toward my face. The way they always do during the mushy part of movies my mom watches on the Lifetime channel.

    â€œSmoochy smoochy smoochy,” said a deep gravelly voice behind us.
    I turned to face Ryan.
    â€œI’ve been looking all over for you, Cartboy,” he said. “Looks like you found my treasure.”
    Right then and there, I decided I wasn’t going to back up. Or run away. Or give him what he wanted.
    Instead, I was finally going to stand up to Ryan Horner.
    The only problem: He was six feet tall. And I was practically a midget. He was gonna tear me apart the same way Wolfie did last fall. When Ryan and his buddies threw me in his pen.

    Ryan put his puffy face right in front of mine. “So you need a girl to help you dig? What’s the matter, Cartboy? Too scared out here by yourself?”
    â€œLeave her out of this,” I said.
    â€œOooh. Whatcha gonna do? Hit me with your rusty old ax?”
    â€œYou think you can make fun of my dad’s ax?”
    And then I did what any small kid with zero practical fighting experience would do.
    I jumped on Ryan Horner’s back.

    Ryan tried to throw me off, but I squeezed his neck hard. “And another thing, Horner. For your information, it wasn’t me who tattletaled on you.”
    â€œOh, sure. Then who was it?”
    â€œMaybe it was one of your so-called friends. Like Warren.”
    â€œYeah, right.”
    â€œI saw him talking to Mr. Tupkin after school that day. Warren. Not me.”
    The truth is I was kind of guessing on the whole Warren thing. I had no idea if it was Warren, or another kid, or nobody. But something I said must have struck a chord with Ryan. Because just for a second, he loosened his grip.
    â€œCora, get the pearls!” I shouted.
    Cora grabbed the box and started to run. Before she could get anywhere, Ryan tackled her like a pit bull.
    I ran to Cora, but as soon as I got there, Ryan yanked the box out of her hands. He started to take off.
    â€œGet him!” Cora said.
    Cora, Vinny, and I raced after Ryan. We probably would have caught him except for three things:

    Ryan disappeared into the dark. While Cora and I could do nothing but stand there and watch.
    What could I say?
    â€œI guess Ryan won.”
    That was pretty much what I was thinking of saying, when I heard a bunch of feet pounding the ground.
    â€œWho is it? Who’s there?” I said.
    And then I got the answer. It came in the form of two small kids: one wearing NightTime diapers. And another with extremely clean hands.
    Scot was holding one end of a rope. And Perth was holding the other. It looked just like the rope we had used in the tug-of-war.
    â€œGoing somewhere, Ryan?” Scot said.
    Sheer genius, I thought as I heard Ryan trip and fall down.

    â€œMarco for the love of Polo! What is going on out here?”
    Mr. Prentice must have heard all the commotion. Suddenly, he was standing right next to us, and the rest of camp was not far behind him.
    The light from Mr. Prentice’s lantern shone everywhere, and after a second, it landed on the wooden box. It had broken open, and the