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The third time, nobody was laughing. Winston was fed up with the maze, but the Demilla kids looked utterly exhausted and at the end of their rope. The boy had loosened his necktie and untucked his shirt from his pants. The girls’ long hair had grown limp and heavy with sweat. They looked like they would rather be anywhere else on earth.

At this point, it was clear that the two teams were heading in the same direction, so they informally joined up. Mr. Garvey, rather tired himself after going full throttle for so long, slowed down so he could talk to the Demilla teacher. The two girls fell to the back of the group where they complained to each other, hissing like peevish old cats. The boy introduced himself to Winston and his friends as Michael Scott.

Winston said, “I never heard of your school. Where is it?”

“Over in North Hendricks. It’s a private school. Very exclusive.” He said this last part not like he was bragging but like he was making fun of people who brag about things like that.

Mal said with some interest, “You rich?”

Michael shrugged. “Pretty much.” This, too, he said as if being rich was simply a fact of life. “My dad owns a real estate company. Big bucks.”

“What’s with the outfits?” Jake asked.

Michael rolled his eyes. “School uniforms. We have to wear these every day, if you can believe it.”

“Yeah, but you’re not in school.”

“Doesn’t matter. As long as we’re representing the school, we have to wear our uniforms. That’s what Mr. Meyer says, anyway.” Michael jerked his head backward, indicating his teacher.

“Your football team must be something to see,” said Mal.

Michael gave a snort of laughter. “Heh. If Mr. Meyer was the football coach, they really would have to play in these business suits. The other team could tackle us by yanking our neckties.”

They shared a good-natured laugh. Could this kid really be the cheater? Anything was possible, but Michael seemed all right—a genuinely good guy. He said now in a low voice, “Any other teacher would have let us wear jeans like normal kids. Mr. Meyer was not my first choice for a teacher to take us around on this today.”

“I know the feeling,” Winston said.

They walked in amiable silence for a couple of minutes, Winston occasionally jotting down or erasing letters as they continued through the labyrinth. None of the Demilla kids were writing anything down. Winston guessed Michael was keeping track of the letters in his head.

And then they astounded themselves by coming across the maze’s exit. For a moment, none of them could believe it—Winston had grown used to the idea that they’d be wandering around in here for the rest of the day. Delighted, they stepped out into a wide field, a disorienting and wonderful feeling after so much time spent closed up by the hay-bale walls.

“Finally!” Jake said. He pumped both arms in the air like a victorious boxer.

“I’m never doing one of these things again,” said one of the Demilla girls.

“Not for a million dollars,” said the other.

“Unless there’s another one later today,” Mal said. The girls looked at him with horror.

START

(Answer, page 241.)

Mr. Garvey said, “Okay. My boys, come over here, please.”

Winston and his friends said “see you later” to Michael. Mr. Garvey escorted them a few yards away so that the Demilla team couldn’t hear them.

“So,” he said. “Do we all have the same answer?”

Winston said, “If you take the letters as you move from start to finish, you get the word THRESH.”

Mal said, “I got that, too.”

Mr. Garvey nodded. “Me too. And it makes sense, since a thresher is something you find on a farm. Jake, type it in, let’s see what we’ve got.”

Jake had already turned on the computer. He pushed buttons now, and after a moment looked up, smiling. “We got it.”

Mr. Garvey gave a little fist pump. “Two down. Let’s get going.”

Winston looked up to see Michael walking over to them, a sheepish expression on his face. Behind him, the other members of the Demilla team watched him. None of them looked happy.

Michael tried finding a smile as he said, “Uh, hey, guys . . . what