The Man with the Red Bag by Eve Bunting Page A

Remember when he insisted on taking the bag with him on the raft?”
    I nodded.
    â€œI asked him about it after the raft trip. And he told me. I didn’t appreciate the way he ignored my order. He told me that in Salt Lake City he’d bought a very expensive gift for a friend in Cody. The friend’s a doctor and he’s going to change the bandage on Charles’s hand. He says he bought a one-of-a-kind piece of Native American pottery. The gallery wrapped it pretty well but he doesn’t have any kind of insurance on it in case it gets broken or stolen, and we don’t, either.” Declan spread his hands in a helpless gesture. “So he takes it with him—even on a raft.”
    â€œI’d think carrying it everywhere would be riskier,” I said.
    â€œHe carries it very care-ful-ly.” Declan drawled the words out like some kind of comedian.
    â€œYou know, I saw inside that bag,” I told him. “It didn’t look like Native American pottery to me. There was a black string thing.”
    â€œCould be the wrapping for the pottery piece has a string around it,” Declan said. “And I’m not saying he hasn’t got something else in there with it. He probably has.”
    â€œSomething private and precious?” I asked.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œNothing. Have you noticed he keeps it locked?”
    â€œI’ve noticed. That’s his prerogative—that means his choice.”
    I thought it wiser not to say I knew what “prerogative” meant. “Can’t you just ask him to open the bag for you? Tell him that you need to examine what’s inside?”
    â€œNo way. I don’t have the right to go looking in our guests’ private luggage. How would you like it if I said, ‘Kevin, open that bag of yours. I want to see what’s inside.’”
    I shrugged. “You can if you want.”
    â€œYour dirty laundry? No thanks.” Declan grinned.
    I stood up. “Well, I’ve told you.”
    â€œAnd you should have. That’s what I’m here for.” He put out his hand for me to shake, which I did, man to man.
    He walked me to the door. “Have you seen Old Faithful yet?” he asked. “She’s just about ready to blow. Check the notice in the lobby when you go through. They keep the times posted by the front desk.”
    I nodded.
    Well, I’d told him and he’d given me an answer. But did I believe it?

CHAPTER 13
    G randma and I walked out to watch Old Faithful blow and it was something to see against the night sky. I wondered if a blue whale’s spout went that high. We ooh’d and ah’d and cheered with everyone else.
    â€œWay to go, Old Faithful!”
    Charles Stavros watched, too, sitting alone on one of the benches, the red bag on his lap. Once I thought I saw his lips move and I imagined him saying to the bag, “I’m glad you could see this with me. Enjoy it, because now it’s almost over.”
    My own imagination could make my skin crawl.
    Dinner at the inn was great, but I had the most miserable, jumpy, nerve-racking night, checking on the paper scrap I’d wedged again in Charles Stavros’s door. I was up so many times that at the end I think I was sleepwalking. No devoted assistant to help me.
    â€œI’m on the other floor,” Geneva had said. “I can’t go walking around the corridors and up and down the stairs in the middle of the night.” She’d given me that honest navy blue stare. “Sorry, Kev!”
    Yeah, sure.
    Â 
    The next day we spent touring Yellowstone National Park. That is some big park! Declan says there are over 10,000 hot springs within its boundaries. We didn’t see all of them, but we sure saw a lot. Two-thirds of the geysers in the world are located here. I have to say Declan keeps us well informed.
    All the time I was admiring these natural wonders, I was keeping an eye out on Stavros, who