Read The Man with the Red Bag for Free Online

decipher or even begin to say? How could “do” be spelled???? What kind of a stupid dictionary didn’t even tell you how to say the words? I felt like throwing it down and giving it a good, hard kick.
    Well, my plan wasn’t going to work. A good idea gone bad. My mom has a saying, something about best-laid plans often go awry, which means they get messed up when you’re not looking, and she was sure right.
    Someone was calling my name. My grandma. The tour group had gathered on the porch and our big buswas stopping in front of the hotel. Charles Stavros waited behind the others.
    I didn’t even have time to take the useless book back and get my $12.95. That stunk.
    Geneva came careening out of the Cowboy Emporium doors wearing a bright blue cap that said CODY RODEO QUEEN on the front. “I’m going to be ready when we get to Cody,” she said, beaming happily. Her yellow hair stuck out at the back like chicken feathers.
    We waited for a traffic break to cross the street. “How’s the book?” she asked. “What are you going to do next?”
    â€œI’m awry,” I told her.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œI’m so blown away about the book—” I began.
    Wait a second! In a mystery novel there are always obstacles for the hero to overcome. Which he always does by thinking hard and fiercely and coming up with a plan. In fact, obstacles are good in a book; they show the hero’s spunk and brains. I thought hard and fiercely, then swung around to face Geneva.
    â€œI’ve got a plan.”
    â€œAgain?”
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œHope you enjoyed your short visit in Jackson,” Declan was saying.
    â€œC’mom, c’mon, tell me the plan,” Geneva urged.
    â€œShh! I’m not ready yet to divulge,” I told her.
    â€œWe’re on our way now to Grand Teton National Park,” Declan announced. “Can you find it on your map?”
    He held his up to display. “The Tetons rise almost a mile above Jackson. We’ll see all kinds of wildlife here. Keep your eyes open. You might see black bears or mountain lions. The black bear cubs are usually born in the middle of winter, but by now we could see them foraging for themselves.”
    â€œSo, are you ready to divulge now?” Geneva asked. Geneva can have a sarcastic way of saying things that is very off-putting.
    â€œNot yet,” I said coldly, and she began looking out the window and humming in a very irritating manner.
    I noticed that Midge had moved across to sit next to Grandma and that Geneva’s dad was readinga paperback titled The Boer War , by Winston Churchill.
    â€œDoes your dad read a lot?” I asked Geneva.
    She shrugged. “How would I know?”
    I hesitated. “Don’t you ever talk to him?”
    She turned her navy blue stare on me. “I say please and thank you.”
    Back to my plan. Would Stavros answer a question in Greek? Would he blow his cover? I tried to concentrate, which was hard because of the humming and because every few minutes Declan would get superexcited and shout, “Moose! Moose to the left!” and everyone would crowd around the windows on the left to see the huge animals grazing just a few feet from the road. The moose would raise their big heads to stare at us as we passed. It wasn’t hard to see we were more interested in them than they were in us. Or Declan would call, “Elk! Elk to the right!” and there they’d be, so elegant, stepping through the long grass. Cameras clicked and flashed.
    Twice we stopped for better photo opportunities. Once we crossed a field covered with thistles and weeds and humongous pancakes of moose dung to geta close-up of a moose calf standing, big-eyed, next to its mother.
    I was afraid all these interruptions would make me lose my focus.
    Both times we got off the bus, Charles Stavros took his red bag.
    Both times, I checked that he got back on and that he