Read Colonial Madness for Free Online

just . . .” She trailed off.
    â€œI know!” I said, still in shock. “She told me she worked at a summer camp. I didn’t realize it was Camp Stuntwoman.”
    â€œWell, hopefully she’ll catch Dylan and we can get out of here,” said Uncle Deke.
    â€œSorry again, folks,” said Uncle Max with a chuckle, though it was strained and his face had turned bright red. “I guess my son’s more of a go-getter than I thought.”
    â€œIt’s okay.” Uncle Deke patted him on the shoulder. “Any of us would have done the same.”
    None of us would have done the same, but I nodded and said, “Let’s put the wagon together so it’ll be ready when they come back.”
    We all set to work with one eye on the wagon and one on the road, and after ten minutes the two horses appeared with only one rider—Mom. She sat atop one while pulling the reins of the other.
    Uncle Max frowned and approached her as she slowed her horse to a walk.
    â€œWhere’s Dylan?” he asked.
    â€œHe’s fine,” said Mom. She passed over both sets of reins and dismounted. “I left him standing next to the road so both horses wouldn’t be weighed down. Is the wagon ready?”
    â€œAlmost,” said Uncle Deke, hammering a wheel onto theback axle. Uncle Max helped him while Mom and Aunt Zoe hitched the horses to the wagon. Then everyone piled in, and Uncle Max coaxed the team forward.
    We moved like snails over gravel.
    â€œCan’t this thing go any faster?” asked Angel.
    â€œSweetheart, if it did, your teeth would rattle out of your head,” said Uncle Max. “A contraption like this doesn’t have shock absorbers, you know.”
    â€œNot to mention the horses are probably tired from running,” said Mom. “Just sit back and enjoy the scenery.”
    I tugged her arm and made her sit beside me.
    â€œWhat if Dylan’s already at the estate setting up booby traps?” I whispered.
    â€œWon’t happen,” said Mom, pulling her hair into a ponytail.
    â€œI don’t know. He was smart enough to hijack a horse.”
    Mom shook her head. “No, I mean he won’t be going anywhere. Trust me.”
    I narrowed my eyes. “How can you be sure?”
    She smiled. “Because we’ve almost reached the tree I threw his shoes into.”
    â€œHa!” I blurted, then clapped a hand over my mouth. “Mom, I’m pretty sure that’s sabotage!” I whispered louder.
    Mom blinked at me innocently. “I was trying to knock somepeaches out of the tree, and I needed something to throw,” she said with a shrug. “Nobody could argue with that.”
    The wagon slowed to a standstill, and we poked our heads around the horses.
    â€œI think Dylan could,” I said.
    Dylan waited under the tree, scowling at us. His cheeks had turned a ruddy pink, and he wore his shirt wrapped around his head like a turban.
    â€œIf he crossed his arms, he’d look like a genie.” Angel poked me, giggling.
    â€œYeah,” I said, “but I don’t think he’s going to be granting any wishes.”
    â€œSon,” said Uncle Max with a raised eyebrow, “where are your shoes?”
    â€œAsk her ,” Dylan snarled, pointing at Mom.
    She stood on the driver’s seat of the wagon and reached into the tree limbs, extracting a pair of tennis shoes with the laces tied together. Dylan snatched them from her and climbed into the wagon. Nobody said anything, even Uncle Max. He simply shook the reins, and the horses pressed on.
    After another ten minutes or so, a butter-colored building with green trim appeared through a break in the trees. It stood a couple of stories tall, with windows spanning six across.
    â€œIs that Archibald Manor?” I asked.
    The others shifted forward to get a better look.
    â€œIt is indeed,” said Uncle Deke.
    â€œIt’s beautiful,” said