"Mom, I'm going to sleep at Uncle Goldie's!"
Jim Thorne crept furtively toward the door, his schoolbag on his back. He planned to have breakfast at his grandpa's place in the morning, then head straight to school without coming home. He'd slept at his uncle Goldie's last night, too; he figured he'd hide out for a few days until the coast was clear.
"No bed for you at home?"
Felix Thorne was simmering with rage and had nowhere to vent it. The moment he saw Jim, his temper flared. If it hadn't been for this little brat, how would Phoebe Huxley and his own mother have ever found out about him giving away the meat?
Jim shivered and shrank back, answering in a small voice, "Uncle… is helping me with my homework."
"Your Uncle Goldie has never passed a single exam, and he's supposed to be tutoring you? If you don't get something, ask your older brothers. Now you stay put at home. You're not going anywhere!"
