Dunc and the Scam Artists

by Gary Paulsen

Amos held up both hands. “Hold it right there. Look at the way the last deal you got me into turned out. You had me dress up in a monkey suit because you thought some lady was buried out in a shed or something.”

  “I never said she was buried in the shed. But something sure was. Listen to the description of this guy. He’s unusually tall, has dark hair and a mustache. It sounds just like him.”

  “Like who?”

  “Him. You know—the creep in the house.”

  “Come off it Dunc. You never even really saw him. You only heard his voice. Don’t tell me you know what he looks like from a voice,”

  “Well, I’m pretty sure he was tall and I’m almost positive I saw a mustache. It could be him. We’d better check it out just in case.”

  As they rode their bikes to the retirement village, Amos pulled up close to Dunc. “How do I let you talk me into these things? I’m hungry, I’m tired, and this is a waste of time.”

  “It won’t hurt to talk to these people and when we get through we’ll go over to Poncho’s Pizza Palace—my treat.”

  Dunc pulled out a list of retirement village residents who had been taken in, that he had cut out of the newspaper. The first lady on the list was very nice but really did not remember a lot. She kept asking the boys their names. She thought they were selling magazine subscriptions.

  But the next man remembered the con artist. He had driven a blue car, he said—but then again, it might have been brown.

  After that, every resident they talked to said one thing that was the same: The crook had gotten away with their life savings and property or the investments they had made. He had always told them he was their great-grandson, nephew, or close family friend.

  The police didn’t have any leads—this guy was smooth. They knew he worked with a partner but no one had any idea who the unseen accomplice was.

  Dunc and Amos rode in silence to the pizza place. Dunc was still immersed in thought while he was eating but Amos was really getting into his pizza. He had sauce in his hair, on his nose, and all over his face, down his shirt, in his lap, and on his hands up to his elbows.

  They were just about to polish off an entire Poncho’s Big Blob—about like eating a cheese-covered Buick—when a group of girls walked past their table.

  “Melissa,” Dunc said, looking up. “Nice to see you.”

  Melissa paused, smiled at Dunc, then looked down at Amos—covered in sauce and cheese. She turned and walked away.

  “I guess she didn’t know you.” Dunc watched the girls go over to the video games. “Look Amos, there has to be a way to catch this guy. We can’t just let him get away with it.”

  “That’s probably it,” Amos said.

  “What?”

  “She probably didn’t see me because of the sauce and cheese. She won’t know it was me.”

  “Amos, we’ve got more important stuff to worry about.”

  “Maybe I ought to clean up and go over there and try again.”

  “No Amos, I think you’ve impressed her enough for one day.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “Nothing. I figure she saw you finishing that Big Blob. Not too many guys can handle one of those.”

  “Do you really think so? I could order another one—”

  “Come on Amos, we’ve got work to do.”

  Dunc paced up and down the sidewalk in front of his house. He racked his brain, but for once a solution did not present itself.

  “Will you stop it?” Amos yawned. “You’re making me tired. You’re not going to get anywhere on this one. You don’t even have a case. And if you did, you don’t have any proof. Besides, if we don’t get finished with that current events assignment, we’ll both be in hot water.”

  “That’s it Amos! You’re a genius.”

  “Don’t tell me—you’ve come up with a plan involving me and hot water.”

  “No Amos. Don’t you get it? Proof. We need proof. Why didn’t I think of this before? I know where the proof is. It’s buried in Mrs. Dell’s shed. The creep is posing as her nephew and using her place to hide from the cops. He’s buried the evidence in the dirt floor of the shed.”

  “Right, and we’ll just casually walk up to the door and ask to dig holes all over the poor woman’s shed.”

  “Use your head Amos. We’ll have to do it at night, when they’re all asleep. I’ll meet you at the usual place when you’re all clear.”

  At midnight it was darker than usual. Both boys were waiting just outside the gate in front of Betsy Dell’s house.

  “Everyone is asleep,” Dunc whispered.

  “How can you be sure they’re asleep?” Amos asked. “Do you always go to sleep at the stroke of midnight? My uncle Alfred, the one who picks his toes, he never goes to sleep at night. He sleeps in the daytime, sitting in front of the TV.”

  “I don’t see any lights on in the house. We’d better go ahead and do it now whether they’re asleep or not. If we don’t we won’t get back on time.”

  They left their bikes near the fence and climbed over the squeaky gate so that it wouldn’t groan and attract attention.

  They were dressed in the black clothes and ski masks they always wore for special night missions.

  Step by step they silently worked their way to the shed.

  “You start digging and I’ll keep a lookout,” Dunc said.

  “Naturally,” Amos murmured. “Hey, where’s the shovel? Shine your light over here. I thought it was right here.”

  “It was. Let’s look around for it.”

  “It’s not here now, so I guess we’ll have to go home and forget all about it, right?” Amos was hopeful.

  “We’ll just have to use our hands. Start digging. I’ll help you.”

  They scooped the dirt out with their bare hands.

  “I’ve found something Dunc. Turn on your flashlight.”

  The light caught the top of a green metal box with a white handle in the shape of an angel.

  “Let’s see if we can get the rest of it uncovered,” Dunc said.

  The screen door on the front porch slammed shut. A tall figure walked out onto the porch and lit a cigarette.

  The boys froze.

  Dunc whispered softly, “Help me cover up the box and then get up against the wall. We’ll watch out the window. If he comes this way, we’ll have to make a run for it.”

  Amos nodded.

  A second figure walked out onto the porch but it was too dark to tell much about it. They were too far away to make out what was being said.

  “… won’t be long … enough money … retire … after … one … more … job …”

  The boys inched toward the door of the shed. Suddenly the doorknob turned and an extremely large person walked into the shed. It was the creep.

  “Where’s the light switch? I can’t see a thing in here,” the big man said. He felt around and grabbed Amos by the ear.

  “Run!” Amos screeched.

  They ran wide open, out the door of the shed, right over the big man. He went down, whumping up a cloud of dust.

  In the dark it was hard to tell which direction they were running. Then Amos’s foot pounded down onto a rake—rakes seemed to wait for him—and it came up and hit him perfectly between the eyes.

  “Rake!” he yelled. “I’ve been raked—”

  “Keep quiet Amos, I think we’ve lost them.”

  “Easy for you to say.” Amos held his nose.

  Dunc took his belt off and handed one end of it to Amos. “Hold on. We’ve got to stay together. Come on.”

  The boys crashed through some thick brush and ran smack into a picket fence.

  “Our bikes are along here somewhere. Hurry up Amos. Amos? Amos, where are you?”

  “I’m stuck Dunc. Turn on the flashlight and help me.”

  Dunc pointed the light at Amos, whose head was jammed between two rails of the wooden fence.

  “Quit fooling around Amos. They’ll be here any second. Pull it out.”


  “I’m not fooling around—help me get it off.”

  Dunc grabbed the fence and heaved. Amos’s head didn’t budge. “I can’t move it. The whole section wobbled but your head doesn’t seem to want to come loose.”

  “Pull,” Amos said. “Pull hard.”

  Just then, Dunc heard noise in back of him and he grabbed in panic and heaved, felt something give, and took off for the bicycles, dragging Amos behind.

  Amos had bright red ears and a purple goose egg between his eyes.

  Dunc inspected the bruises more closely. “Did you have any trouble explaining your appearance to your parents?”

  “I was kind of worried when my dad had to use the power saw to get that section of fence off of my head. I thought he might ask how it got there. But you know, he never did. He just kept mumbling something about how it wasn’t fair how you couldn’t pick your kids.”

  “I guess they’re sort of used to your accidents by now,” Dunc said.

  “That’s for sure. This morning my mom looked right at me, fence and all, and asked me if I had slept well.”

  “Cheer up Amos. We came awful close to getting our case solved last night. Let’s go up to my room and figure out where we went wrong.”

  “I can’t. My uncle Alfred and my cousin, Little Brucie, are coming over after a while. My mom says I have to be home when the little monster arrives so that I can keep him from wrecking the place and eating the other goldfish. Besides, I know where I went wrong. It was when I agreed to go along with you last night. I should have stayed home and knitted.”

  “Can you knit Amos? I didn’t know you could do that.” The look spread across Dunc’s face. “It just might come in handy sometime.”

  “Dunc, that is just an expression. Something people say when they wish they had stayed at home and minded their own business.”

  “You probably have all sorts of talent Amos. There’s probably no limit to your abilities.”

  Amos rubbed the knot on his forehead. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather leave my abilities untapped. By the way, we are going to leave this particular case alone now that we’ve tipped off the bad guys, aren’t we?”

  “Sure Amos, I just need to check into a couple of things and then we’ll give it up. You go on over and watch Little Brucie. I need to go downtown for a while. When I get back, I’ll come over and help you.”

  Without the volleyball net, Little Brucie was in rare form. From the time he arrived until Dunc got back from town, he led Amos on a wild chase, destroying anything that got in his path.

  When Amos wasn’t looking, he superglued Amos’s new tennis shoes to the bathroom floor. While he was in the bathroom, he stuffed seven rolls of toilet paper down the toilet and when Amos caught up with him, he was crawling after the cat with a hair dryer in one hand.

  Dunc yelled as he rode up the driveway, “Amos, come down here. I’ve got news for you.”

  “You come up here. I can’t take my eyes off this kid for one minute. He’s liable to torch the place.”

  Dunc walked in the front door and ducked just in time to avoid a flying bowl of red Jell-O.

  “Hey, what’s going on here?”

  “Brucie is playing flying saucer,” Amos said.

  “Cute kid.”

  “I’ve had enough fun for one day. I’m going to get my mom to watch this little alien.”

  Securely out of Little Brucie’s reach, the boys relaxed in Dunc’s room.

  “So what big news do you have for me?” Amos asked.

  “Well, I checked on Mrs. Dell’s property. It hasn’t been stolen. I also found out that she hasn’t reported being robbed or anything.”

  “That’s nice for her. So what’s the big deal?”

  “Don’t you get it Amos? The crooks haven’t made their play yet. We still may have time to save her.”

  “Dunc, I don’t think you live in the real world with the rest of us. What do you think we are, a couple of superheroes or something?”

  “No really Amos—I have a plan that might just save Mrs. Dell and catch the crooks at the same time.”

  “You always have a plan. That’s the trouble. But they never work out the way you plan them.”

  “This one is so simple, it’s got to work. Listen, I already talked to Mrs. Dell and set it up without her really knowing about it.”

  It was a superhot day, one of those days when Amos thought he’d like to just live inside the air conditioner.

  But instead, Amos was sweating and complaining. “Why did your plan have to involve physical labor? You didn’t have to tell her we were Boy Scouts trying to earn a merit badge. At least we could have gotten paid. This is our one and only spring break. It only lasts two weeks and then it’s gone.”

  “A little yard work never hurt anybody Amos. I’ve been noticing your arms lately.”

  “What’s wrong with my arms?”

  “They’re kinda puny. They could be a little more solid, have a little more muscle.”

  “I really don’t care if I ever have any muscles or not, especially if this is the way you get them,” Amos said tiredly.

  Dunc chopped another weed. “Well, you know I don’t care, but some girls like guys with muscles.”

  Amos dropped his rake and stood up as straight as he could. He puffed out his chest and flexed his skinny arms. Then shook his head. “Melissa will have to love me like I am—I think it’s hopeless. Let’s leave and go eat more pizza.”

  “Maybe later. Right now, we need to stay here and watch the house. If the creep comes back, we’ve got to stop him from scamming Mrs. Dell.”

  They worked steadily in the hot sun all day. But absolutely nothing unusual happened—except for the time Amos used the electric weed-walloper and it got away from him. Luckily, the motor ran out of gas before it took all of Amos’s hair off, but it did leave him looking patchy and his ears were welted. Mrs. Dell brought them some lemonade to drink with their lunch and some cookies for a snack in the afternoon and she made a point of not staring at Amos. Between the weed-walloper and the picket fence, he looked as if he’d tried to kiss a rotary mower.

  The front yard looked great and the mountain of weeds by the shed was gone.

  While they worked near the shed, they took the opportunity to look around. This time Amos had guard duty while Dunc searched. He dug in the exact spot where Amos had found the green metal box. Nothing was there.

  The only clues the crooks had left were large footprints and those could have been left at any time.

  “What a bust,” Amos said as they wearily pedaled for home.

  “Maybe something will turn up tomorrow.” Dunc sighed.

  The next morning started off the same way. The boys mowed the grass in the back yard and kept an eye out for anything suspicious.

  About two o’clock a blue, late-model car pulled up in Mrs. Dell’s driveway. A large man got out and walked into the house without knocking.

  Dunc moved close to the living-room window and peered in to get a better look. “It’s him—I knew it. He’s got a mustache and everything. Look Amos, he’s got some papers. He probably wants her to sign something. We’ve got to get closer so we can hear.”

  They crawled around to the front porch. The door was wide open.

  The big man was talking, “Look, I said I had some important business to discuss with you.”

  “Now Frank dear, I told you not to come back here. You shouldn’t be here.”

  Dunc grabbed Amos by the shoulder. “Quick, we gotta think of something. We can’t let him get her to sign anything. Go ask for a drink of water.”

  Before he had time to think, Amos knocked on the door and shouted, “Mrs. Dell, I hate to bother you, but could I have a drink of water?”

  “Who’s that?” the big man asked gruffly.

  “Just a sweet boy who’s volunteered to do some yard work for me.” Mrs. Dell called to the front door. “Come in dear. Go right on in to the kitchen and get your drink. The glasses are on the drainb
oard.”

  The man growled, “Are you out of your mind? We don’t need anybody around here, least of all now. You get rid of that kid. I mean it. We’ve got business to take care of—urgent business.”

  Amos took his time in the kitchen. First he got a drink. Then he washed his hands. Then he blew his nose loudly on a paper towel.

  “That is a real nice kitchen you’ve got there Mrs. Dell,” he said, walking back into the living room. “In fact, you have a real nice place here. The water tastes great too. Thanks.”

  Amos stood in the living room looking around and making small talk. “Is this your nephew? Nice to meet you. Do you live around here?”

  “Hrummp.” The big man brushed Amos aside and strode out the front door. “I’ll be back and you’d better be ready to talk business.”

  Dunc made it around the corner of the house just in time to remain unseen.

  “Thanks again for the water. I’d better be going.” Amos moved to the door.

  Outside, Dunc beamed at Amos. “You were great. I didn’t know you had it in you. You saved the day.”

  Amos thought about it, then nodded. “I was kind of great, wasn’t I?”

  Tragedy struck.

  Little Brucie had exposed Amos to the chicken pox.

  Amos looked awful. Small red bumps covered his entire body. White sticky lotion covered the red bumps. Between weed-wallopers, picket fences and now chicken pox, he looked like the original leper.

  “How come you never had this stuff when you were a kid?” Dunc asked. “I think I got ’em when I was about five.”

  “Just lucky I guess,” Amos replied sullenly. “What are we gonna do about the case now?”

  “Don’t worry about it. You just relax and try not to itch. I rode out to Mrs. Dell’s place to see if she had any more work for us. There was a note on the door. She’s going out of town for a while. So she’ll be okay and we can just take it easy. Do you want anything?”

  “Yeah—Little Brucie’s head on a platter.”

  “Seriously. I brought you all kinds of snacks and comics and junk. All guaranteed to make you feel better.”

  “Hand over one of those Elastic Man comics. What are you going to do with the rest of your spring break?”