Andi regarded her father’s aunt with astonishment. “You never told us!”
“You never asked, dear,” the white-haired woman said placidly.
“Well, trespassing, then. That’s bad enough,” Mr. Crabtree said. “What if I had taken a different buyer to see that house? How could I have explained all of those animals leaping out from all directions? I most certainly would have lost a sale, and my client might even have had heart failure.”
“But that didn’t happen,” Mrs. Walker reminded him. “Nobody had heart failure. And you didn’t lose a sale. In fact, I think you may have made one.”
“The point is —” Mr. Crabtree stopped in mid-sentence. He stared at Mrs. Walker. “I beg your pardon? I don’t think I quite understood you.”
“I said, you may have made a sale.” Mrs. Walker turned to her husband. “It’s really a lovely house, dear, with nice big rooms and two baths and a fireplace. With some hard work next summer, the yard could be made quite beautiful.”
“The location is good,” Mr. Walker agreed. “It’s close enough to my work and near Aunt Alice. I’m willing to take your word about the interior being what we’re looking for. If the price is right —”
“I’m sure it will be.” Mr. Crabtree looked as though a miracle were happening. “The owners are extremely anxious to sell.”
“Of course, we might not be able to make a down payment if we have to pay a steep fine for our children’s trespassing,” Mr. Walker said. “I have to agree with my aunt that that charge is justified.”
“Oh, I don’t think the owners will press charges,” Mr. Crabtree said quickly. “In fact, under the circumstances, I see no reason for even telling them. Since the property in question will be yours soon anyway, we can just consider that the children were ‘looking it over.’“
“Which brings us to the next issue — the dogs,” said Mr. Walker.
“I guess you’re going to make us get rid of them,” Andi said mournfully.
“I guess I certainly am.” There was no sympathy in her father’s voice. “Nine dogs, and then Bebe! You do still want to keep Bebe?”
“Of course I want Bebe!” cried Andi. “I love Bebe! I wouldn’t give her up for anything. But I love Friday too, and they would have such good times together, and there’s so much room at the hotel.”
“Two dogs.” Mrs. Walker spoke softly. “That’s not so terribly many. I had two dogs when I was a little girl.”
“Tim will take MacTavish,” Bruce said. “I’m sure he will. And Andi and Debbie are training the Bulldales for the circus. Though,” he added with honesty, “they haven’t learned any tricks yet. They’re funny, but they’re not very smart.”
“We’re not going to keep them until they do learn,” Mr. Walker said decidedly. “Tomorrow we put an ad in the paper. Christmas is just a month away, and people always want puppies at Christmastime. You’ll pay for the ad too, you kids, until every last one of those animals is gone.”
The telephone rang. Aunt Alice went to answer it. When she came back she said, “Andi, it’s for you.”
“If it’s someone with a dog,” Mr. Walker said as Andi got up from her chair, “don’t you dare say we’ll take it.”
“I won’t,” Andi promised.
“I’ll pay for the ad, Dad,” Bruce said. “I’ll pay to have the projector repaired, too. I’ve got money put aside. I was saving it —” He swallowed hard. “I was saving it to buy Red Rover from the Gordons.”
“And what made you think that dog was for sale?” his father asked him.
“I didn’t. I mean, I knew he wasn’t. I just —”
Bruce looked down at the floor. He could not meet his father’s eyes. He did not want anyone to see that his own had tears in them.
“He wasn’t for sale at that time.” Mr. Gordon spoke up from his chair. “But he is now.”
Bruce raised his head. “What did you say, sir?” he asked incredulously.
“Red Rover is for sale,” Mr. Gordon repeated firmly. “Jerry isn’t ready for the responsibility of a dog. When a boy wakes at night to a ghost, he can come out with confessions he wouldn’t think of making in broad daylight. I learned a lot about my son that night — a lot that I should have known before.”
He shook his head sadly. “There were people who tried to tell me Jerry had problems. I should have listened. I should have opened my eyes. It’s just that when it’s your boy and you love him, you don’t want to admit to yourself that he’s less than perfect.”
“We’re all less than perfect,” Mrs. Walker said. “Children have to be taught the rules of living. There are a lot of those that our own two haven’t yet learned.”
“But they know the basic ones — kindness and sharing,” Mr. Gordon said. “Jerry doesn’t, and it’s not entirely his fault. He’s an only child, and his mother and I have tried to make up to him for that. We couldn’t give him a brother or sister, so we’ve kept giving him things.”
“Red isn’t a thing,” Bruce said. “He’s an awesome dog. He deserves an awesome home with an awesome master.”
“He does,” Mr. Gordon agreed. “And I’m going to see that he gets one. Would you still like to buy Red Rover?”
“I can’t afford that,” Bruce said miserably. “I owe too much money already.”
“I’ll be willing to make up a payment plan,” Mr. Gordon told him. “The important thing is to know that the dog is loved and well cared for.”
“Dad? Mom?” Bruce turned to his parents beseechingly.
“Three dogs —” There was doubt in his father’s voice.
“It’s better than nine dogs,” Mrs. Walker reminded him.
“Guess what, everybody!” A voice spoke from the doorway. It was a funny, choked-up sort of voice that seemed to be trying to keep itself steady. “Guess who you’re looking at!”
There was a moment of silence. Then Mr. Walker said, “Why, we’re looking at a girl named Andrea Walker.”
He tried to speak lightly, but the words came out sounding strangely uncertain. The girl in the doorway was radiant, and her hands were clasped tightly before her. She looked like a person just waking from a dream.
“You’re looking,” she said, “at Andrea Walker, the published writer.”
“Andi!” Mrs. Walker gave a cry of delight. “You’ve sold a poem?”
“Miss Crosno did it,” Andi said in the same dazed voice. “I turned it in by mistake, but Miss Crosno liked it. She didn’t tell me, but she submitted it to the school paper. They’re going to publish it in the Christmas edition. It’s always just the sixth graders who write for the paper. They’ve never used a poem by a fifth grader before, never, ever in the history of the school!”
“But they won’t pay you, will they?” Bruce regarded his sister skeptically. “I thought the whole idea was that you wanted to earn money.”
“Money?” Andi said blankly, as though she had never heard of the word. “There are years ahead for earning money!” Suddenly she was the old Andi again, chattering and laughing.
“This is the beginning, Bruce, just the beginning!” Her eyes were shining like stars. “I’m one week short of eleven! I’m ahead of Shakespeare!”
Preview
Read more about Andi, Bruce, and
their four-legged friends in
NEWS
FOR
DOGS
Turn the page for a sneak peek!
NEWS FOR DOGS
“I think we should start a newspaper for dogs,” Andi said.
“You think — what?” Bruce Walker regarded his sister with astonishment. He had arrived home from school to find her sitting on the front steps waiting for him with her two dogs, Bebe and Friday, on either side of her. They looked like mismatched bookends, as Friday was a shaggy white hairball and Bebe, who was a dachshund, looked more like a sausage.
Elmwood Elementary let out an hour before the middle school, so Andi always beat him home, but she didn’t usually wait outside to intercept him.
She did that only when she had something important to tell him or when, like today, she’d come up with some outrageous project.
“I think we should start a newspaper,” Andi repeated. “There’s nothing for people to read to their dogs these days. Dogs need their own newspaper with articles written just for them.”
“That’s the dumbest thing I ever heard,” Bruce said. “Even if dogs liked the stories, they couldn’t buy newspapers, because they don’t have money. Please, move so I can get into the house. I want to get something to eat before I take Red for his run.”
Andi got up and, with a dog tucked under each arm, trailed him into the house.
“Where’s Mom?” Bruce asked. Back when they lived in New Mexico, Mrs. Walker had been a teacher, but she hadn’t yet found a teaching position in Elmwood, so, temporarily at least, she was a stay-home housewife.
“She and Aunt Alice went to the mall,” Andi said. She set the dogs on the floor and watched with a fond expression as they raced hopefully to their food bowls. “Whatever you’re going to fix, I’ll have some, too. And so will Bebe and Friday.”
“You can make your own sandwich,” Bruce said, taking a loaf of bread from the cupboard and rummaging around for the peanut butter. “And those dogs shouldn’t snack between meals. They’re fat enough already.” It was all he could do not to add, “and so are you,” but he managed to stop himself from saying it. Andi was a little too chubby, but not exactly fat, and Bruce, although almost always truthful, was seldom unkind.
So, even though he had told her that he wouldn’t make her a sandwich, he made one anyway and, then, watched with dismay as she tore off the crust and dropped a piece into each of the dog bowls. Bebe and Friday gobbled them up so quickly that they almost choked.
“See how hungry they were?” Andi said. “You may like your dog to be bony, but I want mine to be comfortable. I also want my dogs to have cultural experiences.”
Bruce poured a glass of milk to wash down his sandwich and took a biscuit for Red Rover out of a tin on the dog fo od shelf. There were lots of cans on that shelf, and Bruce had bought most of them himself.
Now, as they sat at the kitchen table eating their sandwiches, Andi continued to chatter about her new grand plan.
“Of course, dogs won’t buy the papers. Their owners will do that. Babies can’t buy things either, but there are lots of books for babies. Parents buy them and read them to their children. That’s how it will be with our newspaper.”
“Don’t call it our newspaper,” Bruce said. “This is your idea. If you want to waste your time writing stories for dogs, then go for it. You’re the writer in the family. You don’t need me.”
“But I do!” Andi exclaimed. “I need you to be my photographer and take pictures of things that dogs would be interested in.”
“Like cats?” Bruce suggested, trying to conceal his amusement.
“That’s one possibility,” Andi said solemnly. “An occasional cat would be all right, especially if a dog was chasing it. But, in general, I think dogs would prefer to read about each another. We’ll have feature stories about dogs doing feats of bravery, and a gossip column for dogs, and articles about things that dogs can do to have fun.”
“And a nutrition column about how bread crusts make dogs fat?”
Bruce placed his glass in the dishwasher. He had hoped his final comment would end the conversation, but when he turned to go out through the kitchen door, Andi was right behind him. When his sister got an idea in her head she never let go.
As they stepped out into the yard, Red Rover came bounding to meet Bruce as if he had been counting the minutes until his owner got there. Or his “almost owner.” Bruce was saving up to buy Red, but since Irish setters were terribly expensive, it was taking him longer than he’d expected. He had hoped that he could earn money shoveling snow, but there hadn’t been any major snowstorms that past winter. Now they were well into spring, and that opportunity was gone. It seemed as if he was destined to go without an earned income until midsummer, when people would need their lawns mowed.
“You know you need money,” Andi said as if reading his mind. “We could earn a lot with a newspaper. There are so many dogs in this neighborhood, we’d have a huge readership.”
“You’re a nut,” Bruce said. “Come on, Red, let’s go!”
ALSO BY LOIS DUNCAN
FOR YOUNGER READERS
News for Dogs
A Gift of Magic
I Walk at Night
Song of the Circus
The Magic of Spider Woman
Wonder Kid Meets the Evil Lunch Snatcher
The Longest Hair in the World
The Birthday Moon
The Circus Comes Home
Horses of Dreamland
From Spring to Spring
Songs from Dreamland
Chapters: My Growth as a Writer
The Terrible Tales of Happy Days School
FOR OLDER READERS
Summer of Fear
Down a Dark Hall
Don’t Look Behind You
The Twisted Window
The Third Eye
I Know What You Did Last Summer
Stranger with My Face
Ransom
About the Author
LOIS DUNCAN modeled the character of Andi in Hotel for Dogs after her childhood self. Like Andi, Lois knew from early childhood that she wanted to be a writer and started submitting stories to magazines when she was ten. Today she is the author of fifty books, most of them for young people. Her suspense novels have received young readers’ awards in sixteen states and three foreign countries, and in 1992, Lois received the Margaret A. Edwards Award, presented by School Library Journal and the ALA Young Adult Library Services Association for “a distinguished body of adolescent literature.”
Lois lives with her husband, Don Arquette, in Sarasota, Florida. She can be contacted through her Web site at www.loisduncan.arquettes.com.
Copyright
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the publisher. For information regarding permission, write to Scholastic Inc., Attention: Permissions Department, 557 Broadway, New York, NY 10012.
Copyright © 1971 by Lois Duncan Arquette
Cover art by Robert Papp
Cover design by Tim Hall
All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Inc. SCHOLASTIC and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.
This edition first printing, December 2008
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e-ISBN 978-0-545-28371-7
Lois Duncan, Hotel for Dogs
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