Gordon Korman Bugs Potter 02 Bugs Potter Live At Nickaninny

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who's reading the magazine& now Potter's stopped chopping wood& he's grabbing
a towel from the clothesline and wetting it in the lake good man. The towel
goes on Vedda's nose& now there's someone else coming out of the tent. It's
a it's a uh girl. Oh yes, it's a girl& "
Lesage and Benny both leaned forward and stared as Elizabeth comforted her
father, at the same time restraining him from going after Peter, who lay on
the sand rolling with laughter. Neither of the spectators noticed the
muffledpop and gurgling sound as the loosened patch gave way.
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Benny was the first to feel the icy water creeping up his legs. "Hey, we're
sinking!"
Lesage dropped his binoculars, took in the situation and uttered the first
thing that came to mind. "Help!"
"Get in the water, grab the boat and kick towards shore," Benny ordered
calmly.
Lesage's cries for help could finally be heard on shore above Mr. Vedda's
moaning.
"Frank Potter, you are despicable!"
Mr. Potter looked at his wife in astonishment. "Why? What did I do?"
"You deliberately sabotaged Mr. Gee's boat by not patching it right!" Mrs.
Potter accused.
"No, I didn't," he said. "Honestly. I fixed it properly."
"Then why is it sinking just now?"
"How should I know?"
"Come on, Mr. Gee!" shrieked Mrs. Vedda. "You can do it!"
"Why isn't anybody paying attention to me?" came the nasal voice of Mr.
Vedda. "I'm injured!"
"Here he comes," commented Elizabeth. "The creep. And it looks like he has a
sidekick with binoculars yet!"
"Someone could have drowned, you know," Mrs. Potter was saying.
"Honestly, Mary, I "
"Just a little farther now, Mr. Gee!" Mrs. Vedda ran into the water up to her
knees, grabbed the soft yellow boat and single-handedly hauled both men
ashore. "Oh, you poor dears! Quick, Elizabeth, bring blankets! Mary, start
making tea!"
"Thank you," smiled Benny. "You're very kind. I'm Be "
Gasping and sputtering, Lesage struggled to his feet. "This is uh uh Dirk
Brent," he puffed, staring pointedly at Benny. "He's uh my apprentice welder."
Slowly a look of understanding spread across Benny's face. He winked at
Lesage.
"What a horrible experience for both of you!" said Mrs. Vedda.
"I don't know about that," said Elizabeth. "The important thing is, they
saved the binoculars."
Bugs jogged out of the woods and into the beach campsite. "Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad.
Sorry I'm late. Hey, Mr. Vedda, what happened to your face?"
Mr. Vedda mumbled something under his breath.
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"He had a little accident," said Mary Potter. "Wash your hands, David. We're
about to eat."
"I insist that you two stay for dinner," Mrs. Vedda was saying. "We have
plenty of food. Besides, your clothes aren't completely dry yet."
"That's very nice of you," said Lesage.
Benny shuffled uncomfortably inside his blanket. "Why do we have to eat
here?" he whispered. "I've got food back at the tent."
"Shhh. We're infiltrating."
"Oh, yeah."
They all sat down to dinner.
Mary Potter leaned over to her husband. "Remember, Frank, be nice. You've got
a lot to make up for where Mr. Gee and Mr. Brent are concerned."
He sighed. "Yes, Mary. So, Mr. Gee," he began conversationally, "I understand
you're a welder."
Benny looked at Lesage in wonder. "Psst. I thought you were an anthropologist
like Uncle Vern."
Lesage cast him a meaningful glance which meant nothing to Benny. "Oh, yes,
welding's my game. Dirk has been my apprentice for several months now."
"Oh, yeah," said Benny. "I'm his apprentice. I hope to be a real welder one
day."
"How nice for you," said Elizabeth.
"Mr. Gee welds metal," announced Mrs. Vedda.
"And all this time I thought he welded silk," said Mr. Potter sarcastically.
He got an elbow from his wife.
"Actually, sir, I don't think you can weld silk," said Benny, really
beginning to enjoy the conversation.
Lesage held his head, feeling he was losing his mind.
"So, David," began Mr. Potter, "how's your science project coming along? Did
you get any more done today?"
"I put in a real tough day, Dad."
In fact, Bugs had spent the afternoon constructing his new bass drum. He had
rigged a foot pedal, using a drumstick, vine and one of the springs from Mr.
Vedda's tackle box, raided at lunch. Gus had contributed a buckskin blanket,
which served as the material to stretch over the stump. The sound was a
formidableboom , and Bugs loved the new drum without reservation.
"I'm dying to have a look at your work," said Mr. Potter. "What's the
subject?"
"Well," began Bugs, "I don't want to say too much I want it to be a surprise.
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But I will say that it has something to do with anthro uh "
"Anthropology?" finished Lesage breathlessly.
"Yeah," said Bugs. "That."
"It sounds very interesting," said Mr. Potter. "I'm glad to see you're taking
it seriously and working hard."
"Oh, I am, Dad. I am." He could think of nothing but his drum set.
* * *
Lesage and Benny arrived back at their camp that evening just in time to hear
Benny's radio beeping.
"It's Uncle Vern!" exclaimed Benny, running to answer it.
Lesage got to the radio first and switched it off.
"Aw," Benny whined, "what did you do that for? Now Uncle Vern's going to be
sore at me!"
"Radio silence, remember?"
"Oh yeah. And I bet I know why Uncle Vern suspects those people of being up
to something. They sure are weird, especially that Mrs. Vedda. But when will
this be over so I can call Uncle Vern?"
"Soon," Lesage promised. After all, what did it hurt to promise?
***
In the cafeteria of the Anthropological Museum of Ontario Dr. Vernon Sterling
was standing in line waiting to pay for his coffee.
"I just can't figure out what's going on at Lake Naka-mee-chee," he said to
the Director of the Geology Department. "Yesterday I sent my nephew up there
with strict instructions to call in regularly, and now his radio's dead."
The geologist shrugged. "Well, you know, Benny uh no offense, but "
"Okay," Sterling conceded, "so Benny's not the smartest kid in the world. But
that's exactly what happened to Lesage, and he's a qualified anthropologist.
And just tonight Ramsay and Hyde radioed in and demanded their equipment in a
very highhanded manner. I really can't stall them much longer, but I can't
help asking myself what it is they want to record and videotape, and why I
can't reach the two people I sent up there." He took out his wallet and paid
the cashier. "I don't fully understand it yet, but one thing is clear.
Something of vast significance in the field of anthropology is taking place at
Lake Naka-mee-chee."
He went to take his seat.
The cashier nudged the soup-server. "Take over for me, Lorraine. I have to [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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