Gordo spotted Bones first and yelled, “There’s the string bean! Bust loose!” 

Even though I had a lot bigger things to worry about, I couldn’t help being annoyed that Gordo had stolen one of my nicknames for Bones. 

Gordo rode out on his bike first and Mazz followed, but Bones was already way ahead of them. Oddly enough, Quiet Cal stayed behind. He just sat there on his bike, looking around the lot like he was waiting for something. 

What in the world was I going to do? How was I going to get inside the yard with him standing right there? 

Then I had an idea. If Timmy O’Mara, the Big Juke, were here, he’d pull off one of his classic lacrosse moves: Run right at the guy. If all went according to plan, Quiet Cal would be so completely thrown by the Big Juke move that I’d run straight by him. 

I looked down at the timer. Two minutes had already passed. I hoped Bones’ plan was working. If he could give Gordo and Mazz the slip, there’s no way Cal stood a chance, even if he was smack-dab in front of the entrance—Bones was just too fast. Once we both got inside the shack, we’d lock the door behind us.

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