deliver his final payment.
Mr. Gordon regarded him with astonishment.
“Where did all this come from?” he asked, staring, dumbfounded, at the large pile of bills that Bruce had placed in his hand.
“Like I told you, I work for a newspaper,” Bruce reminded him. “My sister and I and two of our friends are publishing it. Remember when I delivered a copy for Connor?”
“I do recall that, but I didn’t realize —” Mr. Gordon seemed unable to find the words to complete his sentence. He kept staring at the money in amazement. “This is truly phenomenal. I’ll go get Red Rover’s papers for you. Those are important, as Red has an excellent pedigree. In the morning I’ll have my secretary type up a bill of sale. I have to admit that I didn’t really think you could do this. As I said, I’m extremely impressed. You’re quite an entrepreneur!”
As soon as Mr. Gordon left the room, Jerry slid in through the half-open door to the patio. He apparently had been standing there listening to the entire conversation, and he looked like he’d just finished eating something that tasted bad.
“You can’t have earned that much money selling newspapers,” he said. “Connor and I haven’t made that much with our subscriptions, and we’ve sold a lot of them.”
“But, of course, you’re donating half of what you make to charity,” Bruce said. “By the way, what charity is it?”
“Don’t try to change the subject,” Jerry snapped. “I read Connor’s copy of that paper, and it’s junk. No one would want to pay to read your sister’s dumb poems or that stupid gossip column. How are you making all that money? You must be doing something shady, and I’m going to find out what it is.”
“Be my guest,” Bruce said. “All we’ve done is publish a newspaper. Ever since we posted it on the Internet, we’ve been getting richer every day. People all over the country want to run ads. Now that I’ve paid for Red Rover, our bank account still has abalance of two hundred and seventy-six dollars. We’re saving up now to buy cars.”
Jerry opened his mouth to respond, but before he could do so, Mr. Gordon returned to the room with Red Rover’s papers in his hand. He handed them over to Bruce with an expression of respect.
“I’m glad that you and Jerry have been chatting,” he said. “You boys live right here on the same block, and it’s a shame you’re not better acquainted. Jerry, did you know that Bruce and his sister are publishing a newspaper? Maybe you’d like to apply for a job as a reporter.”
“Bruce and I were just talking about his paper,” Jerry said, gracing his father with one of his sweet smiles. “They have a pretty big staff already, but who knows? There may come a time when I can give them something they’re looking for. If so, I’ll be sure to let them know.”
Bruce left the house with the feeling that something had slipped past him — that Jerry was referring to something that might be important — but he wasn’t going to let himself worry about it. With Red’s papers clutched in his hand, he broke into a run, charging through the gate into their backyard,where Red Rover was sitting dejectedly by his doghouse. As soon as he saw his master, he began to wag his tail, and his big brown eyes grew hopeful as he glanced toward the gate.
“You’re not going to be cooped up here much longer,” Bruce told him, throwing his arms around Red’s neck and rubbing his cheek affectionately against the dog’s silky head. “Tomorrow I get a bill of sale, and you’re officially mine. Then we can go for runs all over the neighborhood.”
When he broke the news to his parents, they regarded him with the same astonishment as Mr. Gordon.
“So, now do I get to take Red running?” Bruce asked his father.
“Oh, son, I don’t know,” Mr. Walker said, looking uncomfortable. “This situation really troubles me. That dog is so large and hard to control —”
“But, Dad,
Mr. Gordon regarded him with astonishment.
“Where did all this come from?” he asked, staring, dumbfounded, at the large pile of bills that Bruce had placed in his hand.
“Like I told you, I work for a newspaper,” Bruce reminded him. “My sister and I and two of our friends are publishing it. Remember when I delivered a copy for Connor?”
“I do recall that, but I didn’t realize —” Mr. Gordon seemed unable to find the words to complete his sentence. He kept staring at the money in amazement. “This is truly phenomenal. I’ll go get Red Rover’s papers for you. Those are important, as Red has an excellent pedigree. In the morning I’ll have my secretary type up a bill of sale. I have to admit that I didn’t really think you could do this. As I said, I’m extremely impressed. You’re quite an entrepreneur!”
As soon as Mr. Gordon left the room, Jerry slid in through the half-open door to the patio. He apparently had been standing there listening to the entire conversation, and he looked like he’d just finished eating something that tasted bad.
“You can’t have earned that much money selling newspapers,” he said. “Connor and I haven’t made that much with our subscriptions, and we’ve sold a lot of them.”
“But, of course, you’re donating half of what you make to charity,” Bruce said. “By the way, what charity is it?”
“Don’t try to change the subject,” Jerry snapped. “I read Connor’s copy of that paper, and it’s junk. No one would want to pay to read your sister’s dumb poems or that stupid gossip column. How are you making all that money? You must be doing something shady, and I’m going to find out what it is.”
“Be my guest,” Bruce said. “All we’ve done is publish a newspaper. Ever since we posted it on the Internet, we’ve been getting richer every day. People all over the country want to run ads. Now that I’ve paid for Red Rover, our bank account still has abalance of two hundred and seventy-six dollars. We’re saving up now to buy cars.”
Jerry opened his mouth to respond, but before he could do so, Mr. Gordon returned to the room with Red Rover’s papers in his hand. He handed them over to Bruce with an expression of respect.
“I’m glad that you and Jerry have been chatting,” he said. “You boys live right here on the same block, and it’s a shame you’re not better acquainted. Jerry, did you know that Bruce and his sister are publishing a newspaper? Maybe you’d like to apply for a job as a reporter.”
“Bruce and I were just talking about his paper,” Jerry said, gracing his father with one of his sweet smiles. “They have a pretty big staff already, but who knows? There may come a time when I can give them something they’re looking for. If so, I’ll be sure to let them know.”
Bruce left the house with the feeling that something had slipped past him — that Jerry was referring to something that might be important — but he wasn’t going to let himself worry about it. With Red’s papers clutched in his hand, he broke into a run, charging through the gate into their backyard,where Red Rover was sitting dejectedly by his doghouse. As soon as he saw his master, he began to wag his tail, and his big brown eyes grew hopeful as he glanced toward the gate.
“You’re not going to be cooped up here much longer,” Bruce told him, throwing his arms around Red’s neck and rubbing his cheek affectionately against the dog’s silky head. “Tomorrow I get a bill of sale, and you’re officially mine. Then we can go for runs all over the neighborhood.”
When he broke the news to his parents, they regarded him with the same astonishment as Mr. Gordon.
“So, now do I get to take Red running?” Bruce asked his father.
“Oh, son, I don’t know,” Mr. Walker said, looking uncomfortable. “This situation really troubles me. That dog is so large and hard to control —”
“But, Dad,
Similar Books
