The Pet-Sitting Peril by Willo Davis Roberts Page A

closet,” Sam agreed. “Especially with the junk he’s got under here.”
    Nick stared into the compartment. Had it all been there before: the stack of rags and a paper bag full of burnable refuse? He didn’t remember noticing it the times he’d gotten out the “cookies.”
    â€œI don’t think we’d better leave it there. When I told him about it, Mr. Haggard didn’t act like it was his can.”
    â€œWhat’ll we do with it?” Sam set the red can on the counter and brought out the bone-shaped dog biscuits, making both dogs sit up for their treats. “Take it back to Mr. Griesner?”
    â€œGrouchy as he is, he probably wouldn’t appreciate having his TV watching interrupted again. I ought to call up that Mr. Howard and show him the can. At least then he wouldn’t think I made it all up.”
    â€œAnd it’s full, so nobody used it to start any fire,” Sam said. “You know how to reach Mr. Howard?”
    â€œNo,” Nick admitted. “I don’t even remember his first name, so I probably couldn’t find him in the book. Well, give me the can. I’m going to put it outside, around the corner of the house, behind those bushes. Nobody’ll steal it from there, if it’s out of sight, and it’s not likely to do any damage from there before I can show it to Mr. Howard.”
    â€œMaybe it’s got fingerprints on it,” Sam suggested. “Maybe they can tell who handled it.”
    â€œSure,” Nick said. “It’s got yours and mine. What’s that going to prove?”
    He put the can safely outside and returned to find Al and Greg in the front hallway, with Greg writing down things on a paper and talking as he wrote. “Fix that broken board on the back step. Shore up the railing to the outsidestairs where it goes across the roof. Replace the linoleum here by the stairs. Check to see how the wiring looks for these front lights. What else did you want to check, Al?”
    â€œHe said something about water stains on the wallpaper upstairs. Maybe a leak in the roof.”
    â€œHale’s going to blow his stack if he needs a whole new roof,” Greg observed, with the objective air of one who isn’t going to have to pay the bills. “How do we get in the attic to see where it’s coming through?”
    Nick was in the act of closing Mr. Haggard’s door when Al’s eyes met his. “You know, kid? Is there a stairway to the attic?”
    Nick shook his head. “I don’t know. I told you, I don’t live here.”
    â€œYou staying here for now, though?” Al laughed, looking around the gloomy entryway. “Spooky old place, isn’t it?”
    â€œHe’s right about that,” Sam observed when Nick had closed the door. “It’s like one of those places in the movies, where a ghost comes floating down the stairs and everybody’s found murdered in their beds in the morning.”
    â€œJust because it’s old doesn’t mean it’s haunted,” Nick told him. “What are we going to watch on TV?” Sam had turned the set on.
    â€œReruns, I guess. There doesn’t seem to be anything else.” Sam settled into a corner of the shabby couch and allowed Maynard to crawl into his lap. “Good thing Rudy’s willing to stay on the floor. If he got into your lap, he’d squash you flat.”
    As it was, the Airedale chose to rest his head against Nick’s foot, as if he drew comfort from the contact with a human being. He misses the old man, Nick thought, and reached out a hand to stroke the big head.
    From time to time they heard hammering as Greg and Al seemed to be testing various parts of the building. Finally, with much banging and bumping around, the repairmen let themselves out and drove away in the pickup.
    â€œI guess it’s time we went to bed, huh?” Sam asked, yawning. “We’ve eaten