Free Pyro Watson and the Hidden Treasure by Nette Hilton Page B

it, Becks.’
    The boys leapt on her again but it was too late. The park manager stormed over. ‘You boys are going to have to keep that dog quiet! Can’t have noisy dogs upsetting everyone.’ Then he launched himself right at Mr Stig and Auntie Mor. His hand waving was pretty well saying it all.
    â€˜We didn’t mean it,’ Pyro said when they arrived. ‘True. We were just talking about these neat swords …’
    â€˜And we’re going down the street to buy one if that’s okay,’ Min said. ‘And then my gran said that Pyro could come and play at our house for a bit.’
    â€˜Three bucks, eh?’ Mr Stig said.
    â€˜Three bucks fifty.’
    â€˜Sold!’ He dragged out his wallet and gave the boys ten dollars. Min’s eyes were like saucers and Pyro wasn’t too sure about taking money just like that. His mum liked to know all about any money that came his way. ‘And keep the change!’
    Pyro’s hand seemed as if it was clamped to his side.
    â€˜Here.’ Auntie Mor took it. ‘It’s all right, I promise. I’ll tell your mum that you didn’t ask for it, or even hint for it.’
    Pyro grinned. She was neat, his mind-reading auntie. ‘Fantastic,’ he said. ‘Hot!’
    â€˜Wow!’ Min was so impressed his voice was just a whisper. Becks’ voice wasn’t. She barked her head off.
    â€˜Shut it, Becks!’ Everyone roared at once.
    â€˜Lordy, that dog’s noisy!’ Auntie Mor threw a stick and Becks charged after it. ‘Home by five, okay?’
    The boys took off. A whole day.
    First, they decided, they were going to walk across the bridge and Min could show Pyro where he went fishing. And then they were going to walk down the other side of the bridge to where the big leftover pipes from the road building were stored. The bottom ones were all muddy and mostly underwater from the tide and the fisheries said they were going to make great fish nurseries, but the top ones were great for climbing. And further around was the old co-op where the boats used to come in with their loads of fish. They didn’t anymore, but the wharf out the front was still there and it was magic.
    â€˜We have to go and tell Gran first,’ Min was saying as they swerved through the gate and out onto the road that led to the bridge.
    â€˜Did she really invite me?’ Pyro said.
    â€˜She sure did. She’s a real stickybeak, my gran. See …’ He was pointing to the map on the signpost outside the caravan park. ‘That’s my street right there. My house is number six and it sits right up close to the bush at the end of town.’
    Pyro looked.
    â€˜And there’s the main street where we’re going to buy our swords.’ He slashed at the air and made sword swishing noises. Pyro slashed back.
    And then stopped.
    There was a car turning off the bridge and onto the dusty road that led to the caravan park. It was a car he recognised.
    He recognised the driver, too.
    And now, because the driver of that car always drove a bit faster than was good for it, he could see there was another person in there. A back seat passenger whose head just peeped over the level of the front seat.
    Dad.
    And Geezer.
    â€˜What’s up?’

    â€˜It’s my dad,’ Pyro said. He didn’t mention Geezer. He wasn’t sure why.
    â€˜I thought you were staying till next week.’
    â€˜I am.’ But he’d sent those letters and now his dad had probably come to get him and take him home. Or back to spend next week with Boa for company.
    Yuk.
    â€˜Listen …’ He had to think fast. It’d be different with Geezer here. Maybe Geez wouldn’t like Becks or Min and that’d make the whole day stiff and awkward and sitting around with all of them twitchy and uncomfortable. And they didn’t have enough money for three swords. And how can you sword fight with three