[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
getting this kind of attention, dear. I m afraid Rudy has been at it again.
Has he been behaving himself? Mr. Miller asked Frank.
Oh, we wouldn t know anything about that, said Frank quickly. You ll have
to ask Chip, his bunk counsellor.
I was speaking to this Chip, said Mr. Miller. But every time I asked him
about Rudy he changed the subject.
Oh, Rudy! exclaimed his mother in exasperation.
From the direction of Cabin 13, Chip approached, his face beet-red, a
synthetic smile showing all his teeth. Excuse me, please. I d like to have a
private word with Miller and Webster.
Rudy and Mike followed him to a secluded area near the cabins. From his pocket
Chip produced the sign from Harold Greene s bed.
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Miller, did you do this?
Yes, said Rudy briskly. Elegant, isn t it?
It s downright nasty! said Chip angrily. His parents almost saw it!
Well, it should come as no great shock to them, said Rudy reasonably. They
know he s a twit. They re his parents, after all.
Miller!
He s yelling, Mom! came Jeffrey Miller s high-pitched voice. The clone is
yelling at Rudy!
Two of you! exclaimed Chip. Two Millers! He laughed and walked away,
shaking his head.
Oh, dear, said Mike s mother, it looks as though our Michael and your boy
have been in some kind of mischief.
Oh, I wouldn t worry, said Susan Miller. I m sure that if it were anything
serious we d have been notified.
What did they do wrong, Mom? asked Vicky.
I m sure it s nothing too bad, dear, said Mrs. Webster, smiling. The boys
are just high-spirited because they re having such a good time at camp.
I wonder& said Mrs. Miller thoughtfully, gazing at her sober-faced older
son.
* * *
The Millers look like ordinary people nice people! exclaimed Ralph Deacon.
But those kids, put in Chip. Did you see the younger one? He s almost as
bad as Miller!
Shhh! said Frank sharply. Mr. Warden s about to speak.
Mr. Warden rose and approached the microphone. Greetings, campers and
visitors. My name is Arthur Warden, and I m the camp director. This is Camp
Algonkian Island. It was founded thirty-one years ago by my grandfather, Elias
Warden.
Dad, why are his legs like that? asked Jeffrey Miller loudly.
Shh, Jeff!
Somewhere in that crowd, whispered Chip to Frank, Webster is laughing his
head off. Somehow he always gets a charge out of Mr. Warden s speeches.
Frank grimaced. I know these speeches by heart and they re no laughing
matter. Our boss could put a stone to sleep.
This is the thirty-first annual Parents Visiting Day, the camp director
went on. I invite all of you to join me in our traditional outdoor buffet
luncheon. I look forward to chatting with as many of you as possible. Please
enjoy yourselves.
Everyone turned to the buffet, which consisted of three long tables set up in
the compound near the mess hall. Lunch was an appetizing display of sandwiches
and salads. Cake, ice cream and drinks were being served at a smaller fourth
table.
Yecch! exclaimed Jeffrey Miller, chewing gingerly at an egg sandwich. Boy,
this food is terrible! Rudy, do they make you eat this every day?
Rudy nodded. Yes, they do. But usually it s much worse. The cook makes a beef
stew you could build a mud hut with.
You! Miller! Shut up! The cook stood, arms akimbo, glaring at Rudy and his
brother.
Gee, Rudy, everybody knows you, said Jeffrey proudly.
Mr. and Mrs. Miller walked up to where Mr. Warden, Frank at his side, was
receiving some of the parents.
I m Edward Miller and this is my wife, Susan. We re Rudy s parents. They
waited expectantly.
How do you do? said Mr. Warden blandly.
We wrote you a letter about Rudy, said Mrs. Miller anxiously, about how
difficult he can be, and how he didn t want to go to camp.
Frank turned pale. There was a letter? he blurted.
Mr. Warden smiled serenely. Oh, yes, I remember. His school guidance
counsellor recommended camp. Overanxious parents, he chided gently. Your son
has been just fine here, as I knew he would be. He fit right in, isn t that
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right, Frank?
Frank coughed violently to cover his consternation and swallowed hard.
Yes Miller amazing kid. He turned disbelieving eyes on his employer. You
received a letter about Rudy Miller? He cleared his throat carefully.
You didn t mention anything.
Mr. Warden smiled wisely. Since the days of my grandfather, Elias Warden,
boys haven t changed, he said. They re all born to go to camp.
Well, I m glad everything worked out, said Mrs. Miller dubiously. It was
very nice meeting you. Rudy s parents walked away, eyeing Frank thoughtfully.
He knew, thought Frank in a cold fury, seeking out a nearby bench and sitting
down heavily. I don t believe it. There was a warning about Miller and he
didn t tell anybody! When Chip and the guys hear about this they ll throw
Warden in the lake!
Frank took a deep breath and most of the colour returned to his face. Why put
the guys through that? he thought. Especially Chip, who had been driven to
desperation by Miller s exploits. This was one revelation he d keep to
himself.
His mouth full of potato salad, Chip walked over to where Frank was sitting.
Well, the boss was right, he mumbled. It didn t rain on his buffet.
As if timed by some evil force of nature, the sky was rent by a jagged fork of
lightning, followed almost immediately by a deafening clap of thunder. Without
any further warning, the heavens opened and the rain came in a blinding
downpour. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl wyciskamy.pev.pl
getting this kind of attention, dear. I m afraid Rudy has been at it again.
Has he been behaving himself? Mr. Miller asked Frank.
Oh, we wouldn t know anything about that, said Frank quickly. You ll have
to ask Chip, his bunk counsellor.
I was speaking to this Chip, said Mr. Miller. But every time I asked him
about Rudy he changed the subject.
Oh, Rudy! exclaimed his mother in exasperation.
From the direction of Cabin 13, Chip approached, his face beet-red, a
synthetic smile showing all his teeth. Excuse me, please. I d like to have a
private word with Miller and Webster.
Rudy and Mike followed him to a secluded area near the cabins. From his pocket
Chip produced the sign from Harold Greene s bed.
Page 64
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
Miller, did you do this?
Yes, said Rudy briskly. Elegant, isn t it?
It s downright nasty! said Chip angrily. His parents almost saw it!
Well, it should come as no great shock to them, said Rudy reasonably. They
know he s a twit. They re his parents, after all.
Miller!
He s yelling, Mom! came Jeffrey Miller s high-pitched voice. The clone is
yelling at Rudy!
Two of you! exclaimed Chip. Two Millers! He laughed and walked away,
shaking his head.
Oh, dear, said Mike s mother, it looks as though our Michael and your boy
have been in some kind of mischief.
Oh, I wouldn t worry, said Susan Miller. I m sure that if it were anything
serious we d have been notified.
What did they do wrong, Mom? asked Vicky.
I m sure it s nothing too bad, dear, said Mrs. Webster, smiling. The boys
are just high-spirited because they re having such a good time at camp.
I wonder& said Mrs. Miller thoughtfully, gazing at her sober-faced older
son.
* * *
The Millers look like ordinary people nice people! exclaimed Ralph Deacon.
But those kids, put in Chip. Did you see the younger one? He s almost as
bad as Miller!
Shhh! said Frank sharply. Mr. Warden s about to speak.
Mr. Warden rose and approached the microphone. Greetings, campers and
visitors. My name is Arthur Warden, and I m the camp director. This is Camp
Algonkian Island. It was founded thirty-one years ago by my grandfather, Elias
Warden.
Dad, why are his legs like that? asked Jeffrey Miller loudly.
Shh, Jeff!
Somewhere in that crowd, whispered Chip to Frank, Webster is laughing his
head off. Somehow he always gets a charge out of Mr. Warden s speeches.
Frank grimaced. I know these speeches by heart and they re no laughing
matter. Our boss could put a stone to sleep.
This is the thirty-first annual Parents Visiting Day, the camp director
went on. I invite all of you to join me in our traditional outdoor buffet
luncheon. I look forward to chatting with as many of you as possible. Please
enjoy yourselves.
Everyone turned to the buffet, which consisted of three long tables set up in
the compound near the mess hall. Lunch was an appetizing display of sandwiches
and salads. Cake, ice cream and drinks were being served at a smaller fourth
table.
Yecch! exclaimed Jeffrey Miller, chewing gingerly at an egg sandwich. Boy,
this food is terrible! Rudy, do they make you eat this every day?
Rudy nodded. Yes, they do. But usually it s much worse. The cook makes a beef
stew you could build a mud hut with.
You! Miller! Shut up! The cook stood, arms akimbo, glaring at Rudy and his
brother.
Gee, Rudy, everybody knows you, said Jeffrey proudly.
Mr. and Mrs. Miller walked up to where Mr. Warden, Frank at his side, was
receiving some of the parents.
I m Edward Miller and this is my wife, Susan. We re Rudy s parents. They
waited expectantly.
How do you do? said Mr. Warden blandly.
We wrote you a letter about Rudy, said Mrs. Miller anxiously, about how
difficult he can be, and how he didn t want to go to camp.
Frank turned pale. There was a letter? he blurted.
Mr. Warden smiled serenely. Oh, yes, I remember. His school guidance
counsellor recommended camp. Overanxious parents, he chided gently. Your son
has been just fine here, as I knew he would be. He fit right in, isn t that
Page 65
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
right, Frank?
Frank coughed violently to cover his consternation and swallowed hard.
Yes Miller amazing kid. He turned disbelieving eyes on his employer. You
received a letter about Rudy Miller? He cleared his throat carefully.
You didn t mention anything.
Mr. Warden smiled wisely. Since the days of my grandfather, Elias Warden,
boys haven t changed, he said. They re all born to go to camp.
Well, I m glad everything worked out, said Mrs. Miller dubiously. It was
very nice meeting you. Rudy s parents walked away, eyeing Frank thoughtfully.
He knew, thought Frank in a cold fury, seeking out a nearby bench and sitting
down heavily. I don t believe it. There was a warning about Miller and he
didn t tell anybody! When Chip and the guys hear about this they ll throw
Warden in the lake!
Frank took a deep breath and most of the colour returned to his face. Why put
the guys through that? he thought. Especially Chip, who had been driven to
desperation by Miller s exploits. This was one revelation he d keep to
himself.
His mouth full of potato salad, Chip walked over to where Frank was sitting.
Well, the boss was right, he mumbled. It didn t rain on his buffet.
As if timed by some evil force of nature, the sky was rent by a jagged fork of
lightning, followed almost immediately by a deafening clap of thunder. Without
any further warning, the heavens opened and the rain came in a blinding
downpour. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]