The First Adventure by Gordon Korman Page B

the big dog show! You just want him because you think he’ll make you some money! That’s low, even for you!”
    Palomino’s huge eyes narrowed. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten
you,
sonny boy. Your little plan ruined my life! Lucky for you, I’ve got no hard feelings. I’ll take my dog and be on my way.”
    Griffin stepped in front of the Doberman, his arms folded in front of him. “If you want Luthor, you’re going to have to go through me.”
    â€œAnd me,” Ben added immediately, joining his friend. Ferret Face appeared out of his collar, looking defiant.
    One by one, the others formed a phalanx between the Doberman and his former owner.
    Luthor let out an angry bark, as if letting them all know that he was quite capable of protecting himself.
    Swindle reversed a step. “Funny thing. The dog pound can’t find any paperwork from when I supposedly left Luthor there.” He turned to address Savannah. “Which means you never legally adopted him, since he wasn’t free to be legally adopted. At least, that’s what my lawyer says.”
    That was all Savannah needed to hear.
“Mom! Dad!”
    Her parents were out of earshot in the backyard, laying down a portable doggie dance floor. Pitch ran to get them, but Swindle held his ground on the doorstep.
    â€œThe law’s on my side,” he said with sinister glee. “I will get my dog back. And when I do, I’ll make sure you never, ever see him again.”
    With that, S. Wendell Palomino spun on his heel and left. By the time Mr. and Mrs. Drysdale came running in with Pitch, he was gone.
    The party was over.

    T he Inn at Cedarville occupied a beautiful stone structure that had originally been built before the Civil War.
    â€œHe has to be a guest here,” Griffin explained to Ben as they entered the lobby. “It’s the only hotel in town.”
    â€œRight,” Ben agreed nervously. “He can’t be staying with friends. Who’d be friends with a creep like Swindle?”
    Griffin picked up a house phone. “Swindle’s — I mean, S. Wendell Palomino’s room, please,” he told the operator.
    When the woman put the call through, Griffin flashed his friend a triumphant grin. But after several rings brought no reply, he hung up, deflated. “He’s not there.”
    Ben’s sigh was one part disappointment and ninety-nine parts relief. “Let’s get out of here. My mother told me not to go anywhere near Swindle now that he’s back in town.”
    Griffin’s sharp eyes scanned the lobby, lighting on a pudgy figure alone at a table in the restaurant. “There he is. He’s having breakfast.”
    The boys entered the small coffee shop and approached their enemy. “Sorry to disturb you, Mr. Palomino,” Griffin said.
    Swindle fixed them with a phony smile. “Well, what have we here? A delegation from the Breaking and Entering Club. I thought you might show up.”
    â€œWe just wanted to say we’re sorry we caused you so much trouble last time,” Griffin lied. In reality, he wasn’t sorry at all. On the contrary, he had never been quite so thrilled with the way one of his plans had worked out. “We didn’t mean to close down your store and get you run out of town.”
    Palomino leaned back from his breakfast. “Well, sonny boy, sorry doesn’t butter the biscuit. So you can tell your friend Savannah that I’m still taking back my dog, no matter how sorry everybody is.”
    Griffin hung his head. “We’re okay with that. Even Savannah understands. We won the last round, and you won this one.”
    â€œWe’ve got no hard feelings,” Ben added, holding Ferret Face inside his shirt to prevent him from making a dive for Swindle’s side order of sausage.
    Palomino beamed all over his nasty face. “Really? No kidding.”
    Griffin nodded. “But just