someone was mowing a lawn and there was the tinkle of birds, calling to each other.
‘I could give the shelter a call right now,’ said Mr Lark, rising from his chair. ‘Ask them if they’ve got a beagle. They won’t know I’ve got anything to do with you.’
‘Too late,’ said Darcy. His lips pressed into a grim line. ‘It’s closed.’
Mio clicked her fingers. ‘I know!’ she said. ‘When we were there I noticed they had a website. They listed all the lost and found animals. Let’s check it out.’
They crammed around Mr Lark’s computer, which had barely been used, and waited for it to boot up. ‘Come on,’ moaned Mio. ‘This machine is so slow!’
Mr Lark chuckled, saying, ‘Bit like its owner.’
Finally, they got to the Braxxby website. They clicked on ‘Search’ and put in the particulars.
Breed—Beagle.
A few seconds later they were told, ‘There are no matches.’
Chapter Eight
On the way home the kids rode single file, playing a half-hearted follow-the-leader. Mio was leader. First, she stood up to pedal so everyone stood up and pedalled. Next, she pedalled faster and faster and the others did, too. Mio stopped pedalling and cruised. She let go of one hand and raised her fist to the air.
‘You look like Helen of Troy in this movie,’ called Bryce, then raising his arm he cruised and said, ‘And I’m a gladiator.’
Darcy went one step further. With a quick pedal to get up speed he let go one hand, then two, holding them out from his sides while he stood on the pedals, his face tilted to the sun. ‘Titanic!’
At that exact moment Clem yelled, ‘Stop!’
Mio grabbed her handlebars and braked with a jerk. Bryce just missed her as he, too, came to a wobbly halt.
Poor Darcy lost his balance and crashed into a street sign before falling onto a stretch of grass. ‘Whatcha do that for?’ he asked, rubbing his elbow and inspecting his knee.
‘Titanic hit an iceberg,’ said Bryce with a smirk, then he leaned down to pull Darcy up.
Clem had stopped in the middle of the road. ‘We have to go back and find that beagle. Now!’
‘We can’t.’ Bryce looked at her as if she was mad. ‘It’s shut.’
‘We don’t know for sure if the man did take his beagle to the pound,’ said Darcy. ‘The dog may be curled up somewhere safe and sound with her owner.’
‘Yes,’ agreed Mio as she scratched underneath her chin strap. ‘We may be chasing shadows.’
Clem bit her lower lip. ‘I’ve got to do this. I’ve got to free that puppy now. There’s a veterinary clinic there, for emergencies and stuff. Maybe they can help us?’
‘It’s a long shot,’ said Bryce. ‘But it might just work.’ He thought of a long shot he took in the past, the one that didn’t pay off, and sighed.
‘Let’s do it!’ Clem held out her hand. ‘Go, the Freewheelers.’
But the others didn’t reply.
A motorbike went past, its exhaust coughing smoke and making loud spluttering sounds. Mio waited till it had gone then trrrang the bell on her bike. ‘Why don’t we just phone? It would be heaps easier.’
‘Good idea,’ said Darcy. Pulling out the phone he scrolled down for the number.
‘No!’ Clem pushed his hand away. ‘Phoning’s no good. Anyone can bar you on a phone. It’s different if you’re face-to-face.’
‘She’s right.’ Bryce tapped his fingers on the handlebars as he sang, ‘Saw you today. Made my day. “Get lost” is just a call away.’
Clem was still holding out her hand. She couldn’t believe that no-one was joining her. ‘Who’s with me? Who wants to rescue the beagle? That’s what we believe in, isn’t it? Freedom?’
The others looked away.
Clem tried again, raising her hand higher and saying, ‘Freewheelers!’
Finally, Darcy held out his hand too. ‘Freewheelers. But we’ll have to clear it with Mum and Dad first. We don’t want to be in trouble for getting home late on a Sunday.’
‘Why don’t we go tomorrow?’ suggested Mio.
‘I could give the shelter a call right now,’ said Mr Lark, rising from his chair. ‘Ask them if they’ve got a beagle. They won’t know I’ve got anything to do with you.’
‘Too late,’ said Darcy. His lips pressed into a grim line. ‘It’s closed.’
Mio clicked her fingers. ‘I know!’ she said. ‘When we were there I noticed they had a website. They listed all the lost and found animals. Let’s check it out.’
They crammed around Mr Lark’s computer, which had barely been used, and waited for it to boot up. ‘Come on,’ moaned Mio. ‘This machine is so slow!’
Mr Lark chuckled, saying, ‘Bit like its owner.’
Finally, they got to the Braxxby website. They clicked on ‘Search’ and put in the particulars.
Breed—Beagle.
A few seconds later they were told, ‘There are no matches.’
Chapter Eight
On the way home the kids rode single file, playing a half-hearted follow-the-leader. Mio was leader. First, she stood up to pedal so everyone stood up and pedalled. Next, she pedalled faster and faster and the others did, too. Mio stopped pedalling and cruised. She let go of one hand and raised her fist to the air.
‘You look like Helen of Troy in this movie,’ called Bryce, then raising his arm he cruised and said, ‘And I’m a gladiator.’
Darcy went one step further. With a quick pedal to get up speed he let go one hand, then two, holding them out from his sides while he stood on the pedals, his face tilted to the sun. ‘Titanic!’
At that exact moment Clem yelled, ‘Stop!’
Mio grabbed her handlebars and braked with a jerk. Bryce just missed her as he, too, came to a wobbly halt.
Poor Darcy lost his balance and crashed into a street sign before falling onto a stretch of grass. ‘Whatcha do that for?’ he asked, rubbing his elbow and inspecting his knee.
‘Titanic hit an iceberg,’ said Bryce with a smirk, then he leaned down to pull Darcy up.
Clem had stopped in the middle of the road. ‘We have to go back and find that beagle. Now!’
‘We can’t.’ Bryce looked at her as if she was mad. ‘It’s shut.’
‘We don’t know for sure if the man did take his beagle to the pound,’ said Darcy. ‘The dog may be curled up somewhere safe and sound with her owner.’
‘Yes,’ agreed Mio as she scratched underneath her chin strap. ‘We may be chasing shadows.’
Clem bit her lower lip. ‘I’ve got to do this. I’ve got to free that puppy now. There’s a veterinary clinic there, for emergencies and stuff. Maybe they can help us?’
‘It’s a long shot,’ said Bryce. ‘But it might just work.’ He thought of a long shot he took in the past, the one that didn’t pay off, and sighed.
‘Let’s do it!’ Clem held out her hand. ‘Go, the Freewheelers.’
But the others didn’t reply.
A motorbike went past, its exhaust coughing smoke and making loud spluttering sounds. Mio waited till it had gone then trrrang the bell on her bike. ‘Why don’t we just phone? It would be heaps easier.’
‘Good idea,’ said Darcy. Pulling out the phone he scrolled down for the number.
‘No!’ Clem pushed his hand away. ‘Phoning’s no good. Anyone can bar you on a phone. It’s different if you’re face-to-face.’
‘She’s right.’ Bryce tapped his fingers on the handlebars as he sang, ‘Saw you today. Made my day. “Get lost” is just a call away.’
Clem was still holding out her hand. She couldn’t believe that no-one was joining her. ‘Who’s with me? Who wants to rescue the beagle? That’s what we believe in, isn’t it? Freedom?’
The others looked away.
Clem tried again, raising her hand higher and saying, ‘Freewheelers!’
Finally, Darcy held out his hand too. ‘Freewheelers. But we’ll have to clear it with Mum and Dad first. We don’t want to be in trouble for getting home late on a Sunday.’
‘Why don’t we go tomorrow?’ suggested Mio.
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