Dunc and Amos Go to the Dogs Read online

  “I know.” Dr. Keene picked up Scruff. “Yesterday Ms. Craig asked me where I attended veterinarian school. If she finds out I’m not a real vet, it’s all over.”

  Doc Woods ran his hand through his snow-white hair. “If we can hold out until tomorrow, everything will be okay. What time is the truck supposed to be at the pound?”

  “Midnight. That’s when we take the last shipment to the boss. If we pull this off, they’ll be talking about it for years.”

  Dunc paced the floor in his room. Amos sat at the desk and watched. He tossed a nacho-flavored marshmallow into the air and caught it in his teeth.

  “I don’t see what the big deal is. Why don’t you call the cops and let them bust these guys? We’ll still probably get the reward.”

  Dunc stopped. “I thought about that. But if we turn them in now, the ‘boss’ might get away.” He started pacing again. “It’s hard to believe that sweet little old man is tied in with a gang of ruthless criminals.”

  “Who? Doc Woods? Maybe they’re forcing him. Holding something over his head.” He tossed another marshmallow.

  “It didn’t sound that way to me. I think he’s as guilty as that phony doctor. The question is, how are we going to catch them?”

  Amos stood up and stretched. “I’m tired. You want the floor or the bed?”

  “Are you staying over tonight?”

  “Yeah. Since we don’t have Scruff, it’s safer. My mom thinks he’s staying over too.”

  “We could have dropped by the pound earlier and picked him up.”

  “I know. But a night down there might make him appreciate how good he’s got it at home.”

  “Ahhh …”

  Amos took off his tennis shoes and plopped onto Dunc’s bed. “You can stay up worrying all night if you want to, but I’m going to get some sleep.”

  “I’m not worrying. I’m just trying to figure out some things.”

  “What is there to figure out? We know where the dogs are being held, and we know who the bad guys are. Case closed.”

  “What about Brutus?”

  “What about him?”

  “There hasn’t been anything in the paper about his being stolen. Don’t you think we’d have heard about that?”

  Amos turned over. “The judge is probably too proud to admit that he was the victim of a crime. This is not your average warm fuzzy judge we’re talking about here.”

  Dunc went to his closet and took down a sleeping bag from the top shelf. He rolled it out on the floor. “I have a funny feeling about all this. Something’s not right.”

  The boys locked their bikes to the flagpole in front of the city pound.

  Amos took a leash out of his pocket. “Ol’ Scruff will be so glad to see me, he’ll be doing handstands. Or pawstands.”

  “I wouldn’t take bets on it.” Dunc opened the front door and stepped into the lobby. A funny little man not much taller than Dunc, wearing a red bow tie and a name tag that read “Eugene Phipps,” was standing behind the desk.

  “May I help you boys?” The man noticed the leash in Amos’s hand. “What kind of pet are you looking for?”

  Dunc scratched his head. “Actually we aren’t looking for a pet. We work here.”

  “Oh? When I was hired, I wasn’t told there would be anyone here but me.”

  “When were you hired?”

  “Last night. Someone from the city called and hired me over the phone. They said the lady who used to work this shift had suddenly quit, and they needed someone else right away.” The man smiled. “I jumped at the chance. I’ve had my application in for months. There’s something so rewarding about being able to help poor helpless little doggies find homes.” The man tugged a tear from his eye. “Don’t you think so?”

  Amos moved to the desk. “You don’t happen to like border collies, do you?”

  “Why yes, I—”

  “Amos and I are only helping out down here for a week, so I’m not really surprised they didn’t tell you about us. We’ll just go out back to the dirty cages and get to work now. ’Bye.”

  He jerked Amos out of the room and into the hallway.

  “Hey! What’s going on?”

  “Shh!” Dunc closed the door. “He probably works for them.”

  “Them? Them who?”

  “The dog-nappers. It’s all starting to fall into place. A truck is coming here tonight to pick up the rest of the dogs. Ms. Craig was in the way, so they got rid of her and put Eugene in her place.”

  Amos looked deep into Dunc’s eyes. “You’re losing it—bad.” He led his friend to a bench. “Did you get a good look at that guy? He wouldn’t know how to get rid of a mosquito.”

  “I’m telling you, Amos. This whole deal is rotten. I think something big is going on here. Something very big. They’re probably using the dogs for illegal science experiments. Who knows—foreign agents could be involved.”

  “And my granny is an Iraqi terrorist. Come off it, Dunc. Ms. Craig quit, and the city replaced her. No big deal.”

  Dunc jumped to his feet. “If that’s true, it won’t be too hard to check out.” He grabbed the receiver from a nearby wall phone and frantically searched the phone book for the number for city hall.

  “Hello. Could you give me Personnel, please?” Dunc cupped his hand over the phone. “They’re probably using the dogs to smuggle drugs.” He waited while the operator put him on hold.

  “Personnel? Hi. My name is Duncan Culpepper. C-u-l … never mind. Could you tell me if you hired a Eugene Phipps to replace a Ms. Craig down at the city pound?” Dunc’s voice fell. “Yes, that is interesting. Thank you. ’Bye.”

  Dunc replaced the receiver and collapsed onto the bench.

  “Well?” Amos asked. “What did they say? Is Eugene a foreign drug-smuggling scientist?”

  “No.” Dunc sighed. “Ms. Craig brought in her resignation personally, and the city called Eugene just like he said.”

  Amos patted him on the back. “Don’t take it so hard. Just because you made a complete fool of yourself and were totally wrong about everything and probably have been from the start—that’s no reason to get down on yourself.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Anytime.” Amos headed for the animal compound. “Let’s go see how Scruff made out.”

  Dunc reluctantly trudged after him. He watched while Amos searched the cages. There were a few new dogs, but Scruff wasn’t among them.

  Amos looked at Dunc and shrugged. “Oh well, easy come easy go.”

  “Yeah, it’s probably for the best.” Dunc slumped forward and looked wistfully out the window.

  Amos cocked his head. “Wait a minute. You’re not supposed to do that.”

  “What?”

  “Agree with me. You’re supposed to chew me out for leaving Scruff here and say I told you so and stuff like that and then come up with an off-the-wall plan to get him back and then I act like I really don’t want to do it and then you make me and—”

  Dunc sighed. One of those long drawn-out ones that are kind of pitiful and go on forever. “What’s the point? I’d be wrong anyway.”

  “Quit kidding around here. If you don’t come up with some ideas fast, I won’t be able to go home!”

  Dunc gave him a blank look. “Whatever I came up with probably wouldn’t work, and then you’d be worse off than before.”

  “Man, I can’t believe this! The king of conspiracy, the prince of planning, the sultan of strategy has given up because for once in his life—well, maybe twice—he guessed wrong.”

  Amos joined him on the bench. “I guess I could tell them Scruff ran away and joined the circus. Nah.” He snapped his fingers. “I know. I’ll tell them he decided to get on the truck and go off with the rest of them to doggy never-never land.”

  Dunc inched up. First a little. Then all the way. Then the frowning and the chin-tapping started.

  He jumped to his feet.

  “I’ve got it.”

  “Are you ready, Amos?”
/>   “Ready.” Amos was holding a large tiger-striped cat in his arms. “But Herman here is getting a little restless. Don’t you think we could turn the light on?”

  Dunc shook his head and looked out the back window of the pound. “They should be here soon. Doc Woods said the truck would come around midnight.” He looked over at Amos. “Remember, don’t release our secret weapon until you’re sure they’re in the door.”

  Amos stroked the big cat. “We’re counting on you, Herman.”

  “They’re here!” Dunc dropped to the floor and crept over to the back door. “The truck is backing up. Get ready.”

  Amos moved to the other side of the door. He was still holding the big cat. Then the door opened, and two figures stepped into the dark room. Amos tossed Herman a little way into the air. He landed smack in the middle of the row of dog cages.

  The dogs went crazy.

  One of the men yelled at the other, “Find the light switch—quick! Something’s loose in here!”

  Amos and Dunc ran for the truck.

  Herman played his part perfectly. He jumped from one cage to the next, tantalizing the dogs with the fact that he was free and they weren’t. Every dog in the place was trying to get at him.

  By the time the two men caught Herman and calmed the dogs down, Amos and Dunc were safely hidden behind some boxes in the back of the panel truck.

  While the two men were loading the dog cages into the truck, Dunc recognized one of their voices. It was the phony Dr. Keene’s.

  “Never mind how that cat got in there. Let’s get the rest of the dogs and get out of here. The judge is expecting us.”

  “Did you hear that, Amos?” Dunc whispered. “I told you this was big. Even the judge is in on it.”

  “I coulda guessed,” Amos whispered back.

  The two men stacked the cages of the remaining dogs in the truck and bolted the door with a grinding clang.

  The truck started moving.

  It was completely dark in the back of the truck. Amos held his hand up close to his face. He couldn’t see it.

  “Dunc.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Nothing. I was just making sure you were still here.”

  “Where else would I be?”

  “Dunc.”

  “What is it this time?”

  “How long do you think we’ve been riding around back here?”

  “About an hour or so.”

  Amos took in that information and sat quietly in the darkness for a few moments.

  “Dunc.”

  “What?!”

  “What if they don’t stop? I mean, what if they decide to keep driving—say, to Mexico?”

  Dunc stretched his legs as far as he could in the small space they had. “They won’t. We turned onto a gravel road about fifteen minutes ago. That means we’re headed for the country.”

  The truck bounced along on the bumpy dirt road. It hit a pothole, and all of the boxes and cages slid over to Amos’s side.

  “What’s in these boxes? I can’t move them.”

  Dunc felt around on the top of one. He found a loose board and pulled. A soft wet nose found his hand.

  “Dogs. It’s more dogs. They must have brought the ones from Doc Woods’s house too.”

  “You don’t suppose …” Amos felt around the other crates until he reached a loose board. The dog inside snarled and snapped at his hand.

  “Just my luck. It’s Scruff.”

  The truck lurched to a stop. Amos bounced off the side and landed seat-first on top of Scruff’s box.

  Scruff grabbed a mouthful of Amos’s rear end.

  “Yeeoow!”

  The truck doors flew open. The driver held a spotlight on them.

  “What’s going on back here?” Dr. Keene and the driver stared at them. The fake doctor stepped up in the truck. “I know you boys. You work down at the pound.”

  “Yes, sir.” Dunc moved forward and tried to cover. “And that’s exactly why we’re here. You see, we believe in the personal touch. We always travel to the first home of each and every dog that leaves the pound. We feel we owe it to the animals to make sure they get a good home with—”

  The other man reached for Dunc. “Get out of there, squirt. You too.” He motioned for Amos to follow. “The boss ain’t gonna be too happy about this.”

  “What is it that I won’t be happy about?”

  The boys turned.

  It was Ms. Craig from the pound. Sort of—only she didn’t wear glasses, and her hair wasn’t gray. Instead she had long blond hair and wore an evening gown. She had big diamond rings on every finger.

  “Them.” The man pointed to Dunc and Amos. “We got ourselves some stowaways, Ms. Van Buren. What you want I should do with ’em?”

  Dunc didn’t give her a chance to answer. He reached for the latch of the nearest cage. A big dog lunged for his freedom, barely missing Ms. Van Buren when he hit the ground.

  Amos joined in. They unlatched cage after cage until every dog in the truck was free.

  “Catch them! Catch my dogs!” Ms. Van Buren screamed and ran after the escaping dogs in her high heels. “My precious dogs. Stop them!”

  From out of nowhere the police appeared. A squad car blocked the exit, and five uniformed officers grabbed the driver and Ms. Van Buren and placed them under arrest.

  Amos jumped down from the back of the truck. “Boy, are we glad to see you guys.” He pointed at Dr. Keene. “While you’re at it, arrest him too. He’s in on this up to his eyebrows.”

  “I’ll decide who to arrest around here.” The door of one of the police cars opened. Judge Simmons stepped out. He pointed a long bony finger directly at Dunc and Amos. “Officers, arrest those two.”

  Amos sat on the floor in Dunc’s room with his chin in his hand. “What a rip-off. The first time I’ve ever been arrested, and they didn’t even fingerprint me.”

  “That’s because technically we were never really under arrest.” Dunc sat down beside him. “The judge only said that because you were about to blow Officer Keene’s cover.”

  “I’m still not sure I understand why he was impersonating a veterinarian anyway.”

  “Like the judge said, he pretended to be a doctor so he could get inside Ms. Van Buren’s organization. He found out she raises show dogs and was so anxious to own winners that she hired people to steal dogs for her. She used the city pound as a holding place until she could transport them to her kennel in the country.”

  Amos frowned. “How did Doc Woods fit into all this?”

  “Since he’s a real veterinarian, Officer Keene went to him for advice. He needed to find out what kinds of dogs Ms. Van Buren would be interested in.”

  “I’m glad he wasn’t a criminal.” Amos stood up. “Well, I guess it’s time.”

  Dunc looked at his watch. “Yeah. We better get down there.”

  “I still don’t think the judge should have sentenced us if we weren’t ever really arrested.”

  “I guess he got upset because we showed up at the raid last night and things started moving a little faster than they planned.”

  “A little?”

  “Okay, a lot. But two months’ community service at the dog pound won’t hurt us. My dad says it will mold our characters.”

  “My dad said something different, but I can’t repeat it.” Amos stretched. “I just wish the judge hadn’t told Fifi’s owner that we wanted to donate all the reward money to the city pound. I had my eye on something special for Melissa down at Wilson’s jewelry store.”

  “A ring?”

  “No. Something better. I found these imitation gold earrings with the initial A on them. She would have loved them.”

  “Don’t worry, Amos, I have just the thing to take our minds off our problems. I heard about a robbery at one of the ware-houses down at the waterfront. While we’re at the pound, we can be working on a plan to catch the crooks.”

  “Forget it.”

  “But, Amos, this one is really interesting.
The only thing the thief stole was a case of shaving cream. We could—”

  “Forget it.” Amos moved to the door.

  “—get these fake beards, and—”

  Amos started running. He slid down the stair railing and flew out the front door.

  “Amos?” Dunc looked out the door a moment and shrugged and smiled. “He’ll come around—he always does.”

  Be sure to join Dunc and Amos in these other Culpepper Adventures:

  The Case of the Dirty Bird

  When Dunc Culpepper and his best friend, Amos Binder, first see the parrot in a pet store, they’re not impressed—it’s smelly, scruffy, and missing half its feathers. They’re only slightly impressed when they learn that the parrot speaks four languages, has outlived ten of its owners, and is probably 150 years old. But when the bird starts mouthing off about buried treasure, Dunc and Amos get pretty excited—let the amateur sleuthing begin!

  Dunc’s Doll

  Dunc and his accident-prone friend Amos are up to their old sleuthing habits once again. This time they’re after a band of doll thieves! When a doll that once belonged to Charles Dickens’s daughter is stolen from an exhibition at the local mall, the two boys put on their detective gear and do some serious snooping. Will a vicious watchdog keep them from retrieving the valuable missing doll?

  Culpepper’s Cannon

  Dunc and Amos are researching the Civil War cannon that stands in the town square when they find a note inside telling them about a time portal. Entering it through the dressing room of La Petite, a women’s clothing store, the boys find themselves in downtown Chatham on March 8, 1862—the day before the historic clash between the Monitor and the Merrimac. But the Confederate soldiers they meet mistake them for Yankee spies. Will they make it back to the future in one piece?

  Dunc Gets Tweaked

  Dunc and Amos meet up with a new buddy named Lash when they enter the radical world of skateboard competition. When somebody “cops”—steals—Lash’s prototype skateboard, the boys are determined to get it back. After all, Lash is about to shoot for a totally rad world’s record! Along the way they learn a major lesson: Never kiss a monkey!