Free The Pet-Sitting Peril by Willo Davis Roberts

they’re fascinated by fire.”
    This time Nick managed to speak, though his voice squeaked. “I go watch a fire when there’s one in the neighborhood, the same as anyone else,” he said. “My dad always told me to keep well back out of the way of the firefighters. And he taught me never to be careless with fire. I never have been, since I was a little kid.”
    He wondered what Mr. Howard would think if he knew about that one time, when Nick was six and Barney was eight, when they had played with matches, and set a grass firethat had nearly scared both of them to death. Luckily their father had been home and had come running with a hose and a shovel, and they hadn’t needed the fire department to put it out; neither of the boys would ever forget the lecture they’d listened to once the danger was ended. Because Barney was older, and he was the one who’d actually gotten the matches out of the kitchen, he’d been most severely reprimanded. Yet Nick’s ears felt blistered for weeks, and he’d never been tempted to experiment with fire after that. The idea of causing great damage and maybe even someone’s death was enough to make him very careful from then on.
    He gathered his courage now, looked directly at Mr. Howard, and said as forcefully as he could, “I didn’t have anything to do with that fire last night, and neither did my friend Sam. It was just the way we told the fireman last night. Rudy heard something in the alley and barked, the way he does when he’s surprised, and we looked that way and saw the little spark, and then all those boxes burst into flames. Sam ran to turn in the alarm and warnthe people in the house, and I got the hose. That’s all we had to do with it.”
    He was trembling a little, and he walked rapidly because Rudy was eager to go. Ordinarily Nick would have run with him, but he couldn’t do that as long as Mr. Howard wanted to talk.
    He hoped the man would believe him, but to his astonishment it was as if Nick had never said anything at all. As they turned into the familiar alley, still smelling of scorched wood and paper, the investigator said, “Sometimes a boy is so fascinated with fires that he sets them just to watch them burn, without considering the consequences in damage or lives. Sometimes he starts a fire to give himself a chance to be a hero. You know, to turn in the alarm and warn the people and help put the fire out.”
    Nick stopped in the middle of the alley so suddenly that Rudy skidded on the gravel and looked at him wonderingly. “I never did any of those things. I don’t know if the fire was arson or an accident, but I didn’t have anything to do with it. Sam and I were together, and bothknow the truth. Why don’t you find out why the lights were out, the way Mr. Hale said? It sure made it dark enough back here in the alley so nobody could see what was going on, and it’s peculiar the two streetlights would go out at the same time. Besides the lights in the house and on the porch. And the can of gas in the closet under the stairs.”
    He hadn’t meant to say that. He didn’t know if any of the gas had been poured on the cardboard before the fire started or not; certainly he didn’t remember smelling gasoline at the time, and the firemen were trained to notice things like that.
    Mr. Howard’s eyes narrowed and he stood with his hands in his pants pockets. “There’s a can of gas in the closet in the Hillsdale Apartments?”
    â€œWell, there was earlier in the week. I found it when I was looking for Eloise—a cat—and it was a red can and smelled of gasoline. Only it wasn’t there when I looked again. I’d told Mr. Haggard about it, because Dad always said it wasn’t safe to store things like that in a place where anything could catch fire. I suppose hetold Mr. Griesner, and the can was moved to a better place.”
    Nick