“The Earl? Gosh, he’s dangerous!” one of the other boys interrupted, looking at Danny with admiration. “I’d never dare follow him. He’s wanted by the FBI. His picture’s in the Post Office—”
“It is? Maybe he was the one who stole Ma’s car and then brought it back,” Danny suggested.
Horace shook his head. “It was a boy about sixteen. I saw him.”
“So did Holly. He stole her typewriter. She wants me to bring it back,” Judy remembered, “but I’m afraid I can’t do it yet. Peter wants everybody to stay away from your house, Danny, until the boards are off the windows. He’s hoping the thieves will be trapped there.”
“With my father in the house? They can’t do that!” Danny cried, jumping up from the table. “I’m going over there this minute and tell him I’m sorry for the way I treated him.”
“Wait, Danny, you can’t go over there until the boards are off the windows!”
Judy found herself talking to the air. Danny was already gone.
“You boys stay here and don’t let Judy’s cat out. We’ll be back for him,” Horace called over his shoulder as he started after Danny. Judy was already running along the woods road, a half-eaten piece of corn bread in her hand.
“Don’t go there, Danny! Please don’t go there!” she called. “You’ll only get your father into more trouble. Wait and he’ll come for you.”
“I’ll wait,” Danny called back. “I’ll be right where I always am—at the beaver dam.”