I glanced at Bones. He was shoveling down an entire plateful of beans . . . so running definitely wasn’t an option. We’d have to hide. 

“Bones,” I whisper-shouted, “the Good Squad is back. Hide!” Bones looked at me with bean sauce dripping out the side of his mouth, then he dove under the orange couch. 

I opened up the big chest that sat in front of the couch. It was only half full of old pictures, so I jammed myself inside and was about to shut the lid when I saw Bones’ giant size fourteen Chucky T’s hanging out the side of the couch. 

“Bones!”

“Yeah, Lump? What’s up?”

“You’re battleships are hanging out the end of the couch. Pull them into port, now! They’ll be in here any second.” 

I slid the lid of the chest closed, and just as I did, I heard Gordo whispering to Mazz around the corner. 

“You go in first,” he was saying. “I know they’re in there. I’ll come flying in right after you and we’ll grab that fancy battery pack from them.” 

“But what if that dog’s in there, Gordo?” Mazz said, sounding worried. “He’s really mean and scary!” 

What scary dog? They weren’t talking about G, were they? ‘He’ was a she and she was the nicest dog ever. Why in the world would they be scared of her? 

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