The third house Lulu stopped at was a haunted-looking house, its yard overgrown with half-dead bushes and weeds, and all kinds of wrecked and rusted and ratty old furniture, pots, bikes, toys, and other junk piled helter-skelter on its sagging front porch. The skinny man and woman who answered the door in matching warm-up suits and baseball caps greeted Lulu warmly and then started poking around in the mess on the porch, with Mister explaining, “Our dog is in there somewhere,” and Missus explaining, “Cordelia loves to hide.”

 

Since Mister and Missus seemed to be having trouble finding Cordelia, Lulu joined in the hunt for the hidden dog, whose tail or ear or eye or leg would make a brief appearance, then once again vanish. Finally, Lulu, desperately trying to grab some part of Cordelia, instead knocked a broken-down bike off the top of the pile, which was followed by an avalanche of water-soaked books, chipped dishes, several window screens with holes, and . . . one yapping dog.

Lulu covered her head with her hand to keep it from being bopped by a falling screen. With the other hand she reached out for Cordelia.

“Gotcha!” said Lulu.

“Good job!” said Mister and Missus, who patted her shoulder and told her she was hired.

And Lulu, handing them back their dog, said to Mister and Missus, “I’ll see you Monday morning at six thirty-four.”