The Second Adventure by Gordon Korman Page B

him, and he began to pace the clearing, twitching nervously.
    Shy Melissa Dukakis had only just reached the point where she felt comfortable talking to people. To deal with this very large, very frightening animal was going to take every milligram of fortitude she could muster.
    â€œCalm down — uh — sweetie,” she ventured in her best impersonation of Savannah.
    The endearment, coming from anybody but his beloved dog whisperer, was not to be tolerated. The growl seemed to begin at the tip of his tail, traveling through that oversized body, and emerging from behind those very sharp teeth.
    Melissa nearly swallowed her tongue. “Luthor — uh — sir —” Her hand visibly shaking, she reached into the bag of food Savannah had brought along, and produced a bone-shaped dog treat.
    Luthor snapped it down in a flash, but it failed to settle him.
    Logan reentered the clearing. “Well, that’s done —”
    The big dog turned on him with a sharp bark, freezing him on the spot.
    Melissa might have been quiet and timid, but her experience with Griffin and his team had taught her one important truth:
Never
let a plan get out of control.
    She activated the Skype app on her phone and called Griffin. A shadowy face surrounded by sheets and towels appeared almost immediately. “Are you crazy?” Griffin rasped. “You know we’re hiding in the back of a van! You want to get us caught?”
    Melissa’s wide eyes were clearly visible behind her curtain of hair. “Savannah has to talk to her dog!”
    Griffin understood her instantly. Just seconds later, Savannah appeared on the screen, in full dog-whispering mode. Melissa held the phone up for Luthor to see.
    The Doberman was a little bewildered by the tiny Savannah who was here and yet not here. But there was no question — that was her face, and that was her voice, which meant he wasn’t so abandoned after all.
    Melissa and Logan exchanged a look of pure dismay. Luthor was calm again — but for how long? Would his hostility return the minute Savannah’s familiar face was no longer before him?
    â€œGreat,” Logan said with a nervous laugh. “Now all we have to do is keep her on the phone forever.”
    Melissa retreated behind her hair. It was going to be a really long three weeks.

    T he buildings of Camp Ta-da! were laid out around its performance center — an old barn converted into a small theater and rehearsal space. It was a tight squeeze to get one hundred fifty campers plus their counselors inside at the same time. But when it was raining — like it was on that day — no one minded the crowding. All eyes were on head counselor and creative director Wendy Demerest, who was running through the details of the annual “Showdown” against the camp’s cross-county rivals, Camp Spotlight.
    â€œFor the next week we work around the clock to script, stage, and rehearse a forty-five-minute revue,” she explained. “At the Showdown, both camps put on dueling shows for a trophy and bragging rights. Spotlight has beaten us the last three summers” — a loud chorus of boos greeted this statement — “and that’s why this is the year we bring the cup back to Ta-da!, where it belongs.”
    Melissa was amazed at the wild cheering that greeted this announcement. Even Logan — who normally looked at his acting as serious business — was on his feet, punching the air and howling. She had only agreed to go away for the summer because her parents thought she spent too much time alone with her computers. She’d signed on with Logan and Ta-da! in order to avoid all the sports, competition, and rah-rah-rah. Yet here she was in the middle of what looked like a pep rally. It turned out that these drama types were just as crazed over their specialty as the kids at the baseball camp up the road. Rah-rah-rah couldn’t be avoided.
    As the ovation