Riddle Gully Runaway by Jen Banyard

hitched a different ride into Two Wells. But it’s more likely he came straight here, I think.’
    Will rubbed his stomach. ‘Well, I know I wouldn’t mind going to the bakery.’
    â€˜That’s our first stop then. We can ask around.’
    â€˜We can’t bring Shorn Connery with us though!’ blurted Will. ‘He’ll … you know … draw attention. And if Benson sees us coming he won’t hang around to have a chat.’
    â€˜Good point,’ said Pollo. She huddled into her jacket, thinking. ‘Hey, I know! Mr Mallard! He’s a retired sheep farmer from Riddle Gully who lives close by. One of Dad’s old customers. We might be able to leave Shorn Connery with him.’
    *
    As Pollo, Will and Shorn Connery walked up thefootpath, Mr Mallard tipped back his hat and leaned on his spade. ‘Pollo di Nozi!’ he called. ‘That’s a fine young specimen of a ram you’ve got there, girl. Reminds me of one I had in the nineties. Won Best Fleece in Show four years running.’
    â€˜This here’s Shorn Connery!’ beamed Pollo. ‘Oh, and this is Will. We’ve got a bit of business to do in Maloola, Mr Mallard. We were hoping we could leave Shorn Connery with you for a while.’
    The old farmer nodded. ‘Sure thing! You kids leave the young fella with me and come back for him when you’re ready. I’ll be going off to bowls later but you kids go on round the back. Side gate’s never locked.’
    A little later, Will and Pollo emerged from Maloola bakery with a lamington each and no further clue as to where Benson might be hiding. They walked up the main street, eating and keeping a lookout for Benson, asking at any place he might have visited and where a shopkeeper might remember him. No one knew anything nor seemed too fussed at being unable to help.
    â€˜I guess he might have changed his mind and made his way home some other way,’ said Pollo, looking at the brochures and timetables in a travel agent’s window.
    â€˜No, I reckon you were right before,’ said Will. Helooked up and down the street. ‘I’ve got a hunch he’s around here somewhere. He’s probably down in the dumps, remember. It figures he’d want to get lost from everyone for a while.’
    â€˜If you say so,’ said Pollo.
    They trudged on until they came to the big glass doors of Game Zone. They stepped inside the cave-like room that flickered with flashing lights. Although nearly empty, it was raucous with sirens, bells and whooping sound effects from the gaming machines.
    â€˜What was Benson’s favourite machine again?’ yelled Pollo above the racket.
    â€˜Monster Mash!’ said Will.
    â€˜Where is it?’
    â€˜Through there, behind that wall.’
    They wove between the machines keeping as close to the walls as they could, and peeked around the corner. Monster Mash’s lights pulsed, but no one was there to appreciate them.
    Pollo sighed. ‘Come on,’ she said. ‘Let’s get out of here.’
    â€˜No, wait!’ said Will. He fished in his pocket for some coins.
    â€˜Will! We don’t have time for that now!’
    Will ignored Pollo and walked trance-like across to the machine.
    â€˜We’ve got to keep going!’ shouted Pollo.
    Will fed a two-dollar coin into the slot, shrugging off Pollo who tugged on his arm. The big panel of lights shimmered into action.
    â€˜I can’t believe this!’ Pollo turned to go. ‘I’m going to keep looking for Benson. I’m not standing here while you —’
    â€˜Pollo! Look!’ cried Will, pointing to the screen. ‘Highest score! Bragger Bee!’
    Pollo looked. ‘What are you on about?’
    â€˜Bragger Bee. Bee-for-Benson Bragg! That’s got to be him. And according to this, he posted twelve-thousand-seven-hundred-and-ninety-two on this machine the day before yesterday. Wow! My