“Macdonald Hall is in trouble,” Bruno announced dramatically, “and the responsibility of saving it rests with us, the Macdonald Hall Preservation Society!”
The boys looked at him uneasily — Bruno’s causes were notorious.
“I’m having enough trouble saving myself,” said Wilbur. “Besides the fact that they’re not feeding us, what’s wrong with Macdonald Hall?”
“I’ll tell you what’s wrong,” exclaimed Bruno. “It’s going down the tube! They may even put it up for sale!”
“That’s ridiculous,” snapped Pete. “The Fish would never allow it!”
“The Fish is only Headmaster,” Bruno reminded him. “He doesn’t own the place; he just works here. He’s a victim, like the rest of us.”
“I don’t believe it,” said Sidney flatly.
“Believe it,” said Larry. “I’m The Fish’s messenger. I’m around to hear what goes on in his office, and it’s true.”
“What do you think all these economy measures are for?” added Boots.
“That’s right,” agreed Bruno. “It’s a bad situation and we’ve —”
The salt shaker in Elmer’s hand slipped from his fingers and clattered to the table. He raised astounded, owl-like eyes to Bruno. “Do you mean that Macdonald Hall is going bankrupt?”
“We just finished saying that, Elmer,” said Bruno patiently. Although Elmer was the school’s genius, he was not known for his quick grasp of everyday matters. “Pay attention. This is very important if we’re going to save the school.”
“But what can we do?” asked Pete. “We’re just students.”
“Well, it seems to me,” said Bruno who had, as usual, taken over the proceedings, “that if we can do something really great and get a lot of coverage in the newspapers and on radio and TV, then we’ll get all sorts of new students. Everybody’ll want to send their boys to a school where such terrific things happen.”
“Sounds good to me,” said Sidney.
“What terrific things?” asked Boots cautiously. He had been involved too many times before in Bruno’s outrageous schemes.
“Well, that’s going to be the hard part,” admitted Bruno. “I haven’t thought of any yet. But I’ll have a suggestion box outside our room — that’s 201 — right after lunch. Talk it up a lot so all the guys will know. I want that box full of suggestions by morning. If we don’t come up with an idea to put this place on the map, then we don’t deserve to keep Macdonald Hall!”
* * *
After lunch Bruno, Boots and Elmer went back to Dormitory 2 and climbed over Boots’s bed into their room. “Elmer, what have you got for a suggestion box?” asked Bruno. “Ah — there’s something.” He reached down and tapped a large black box that sat on the floor by the bureau.
“No!” cried Elmer. “Don’t touch that! It’s extremely delicate electronic equipment. I’m working on a groundbreaking new method of television broadcasting. The digitized images are beamed along pathways of charged particles in the atmosphere. I call it Positive Ion Transmission — PIT for short.”
“Hot gazoobies!” said Bruno happily. “Our first suggestion. You invent some new TV thing and we’ll get all sorts of publicity. But I still haven’t got a suggestion box. I know, we’ll use Boots’s suitcase.” He picked up a canvas duffle bag, zipped it open, dumped the contents on the floor and smiled in triumph. “Come on, Boots. Make yourself useful. Draw up a sign saying Suggestion Box.”
“Can I pick my clothes up off the floor first, sir!” asked Boots sarcastically.
“Oh, we’ll help you do that,” Bruno replied cheerfully. “Elmer, pick up his clothes. Hurry up with that sign, Boots. I’m expecting millions of suggestions.”
“And what will you be doing, oh master?”
Bruno hurled himself onto his new bed and wriggled until he was quite comfortable. “I thought I’d take a nap,” he replied. “We’ve got to get to Scrimmage’s tonight.”
“Why?” asked Boots. “We’ve got plenty of food left.”
“We need the girls’ suggestions,” said Bruno. “And,” he added, “it wouldn’t hurt to get in a little more food. Don’t forget, we’re begging for three now.”
Elmer was touched.
* * *
Elmer was not quite so touched at midnight when he found that he was expected to accompany the expedition to Scrimmage’s.
“But — but it’s against the rules! If we get caught we’ll be punished!”
“Agreed,” said Bruno. “But I never get caught, so punishment is out of the question. Come on, Elm, live dangerously for once in your life!”
“Come on, Elmer,” grinned Boots. “Those are girls over there.”
“That’s just it,” said Elmer. “Girls make me extremely nervous. I simply cannot talk to them. My tongue dries up and my throat closes.”
“Well, this is a good time to start learning,” decided Bruno. “Come on, Elmer, it’s for your own good.” He nodded at Boots, and between the two of them they hustled Elmer out the window and dragged him across the campus and the highway. Before he knew it he was climbing the wrought-iron fence and then watching Bruno toss pebbles at the second-storey window.
When Cathy and Diane stuck their heads out, Elmer ducked behind Boots.
“More food?” Cathy called in disbelief.
“That too,” said Bruno. “But we have to talk to you. We’re coming up.”
One by one, with much hoarse protesting from Elmer, the three boys shinnied up the drainpipe and were helped in through the window by Cathy and Diane.
Cathy regarded the skinny, crew-cut boy who stood cowering before them. “I see we have a newcomer,” she observed.
“You know Elmer Drimsdale,” said Bruno.
“By reputation.” She grinned. “We haven’t been introduced. Hi, I’m Cathy.”
Elmer made a strangled noise deep in his throat.
“And I’m Diane,” said the blonde girl. When there was no reply she glanced questioningly at Bruno. “Doesn’t he talk?”
“No, I do not,” croaked Elmer.
“He’s a little nervous,” explained Boots. “It’s something to do with his tongue and his throat. We live with Elmer now. The Hall closed down Dormitory 3 and kicked us out of our room.”
“That’s terrible!” exclaimed Cathy. “Uh — I mean — no offence, Elmer.”
“That’s what all the ruckus was about then,” said Diane. “All that running around with beds and everything.”
Boots nodded gravely.
“Now down to business,” said Bruno. “We’re in big trouble.”
“So what else is new?” asked Cathy with a grin.
“No, he doesn’t mean us; he means Macdonald Hall,” said Boots. “The Hall is going bankrupt. We could close up soon. You girls could end up with a slaughterhouse across the road instead of us.”
“What?” shrieked Cathy.
“No, no,” soothed Elmer, finally regaining his voice. “The zoning bylaws would never permit a slaughterhouse. A large sewage-treatment plant, perhaps. I understand the city is looking for a place to locate one.”
“Oh, no!” cried Diane, appalled.
“Well,” Elmer added dubiously, “perhaps it will only be a highrise condominium development.”
Cathy and Diane moaned in unison.
“Wait a minute, wait a minute,” Bruno put in. “You’re not getting any of that stuff across the road because we are going to save Macdonald Hall. We’re going to get so much great publicity that enrolment will double and there won’t be any reason to close the school.”
“What’s our job?” asked Cathy.
“We’ll do anything!” Diane put in.
“We need publicity,” said Bruno. “Your job right now is to figure out how we’re going to get it.”
“Tell all the girls,” Boots added. “We need all the suggestions we can get.”
“We’ll be back in a couple of days,” said Bruno, “to hear what you’ve come up with.” Behind him, Elm
er groaned. This adventure, he was certain, was enough to fill his lifetime quota of excitement. Having Bruno and Boots as roommates was not going to be easy.
“Now,” said Bruno, “how about some food?”
Diane tiptoed to the door. “Be right back,” she whispered.
True to her word, she was back in less than five minutes, carrying the usual paper bag. “Sandwiches tonight,” she told them. “Part of tomorrow’s lunch.”
“We’d better get going,” Boots suggested anxiously. Bruno took the bag and stuffed it into Boots’s hand. He swung a leg over the window ledge. “Thanks for the grub. Work hard on those suggestions.” He started to shinny down. Boots followed, and Elmer, anxious not to be left alone with the girls, was right behind him. Bruno’s feet hit the ground with a thud.
“Halt!” cried a voice.
Just as Boots slipped to the ground behind Bruno, a beam of light illuminated the two of them.
At the top of the drainpipe, Elmer, frozen with fear, felt hands grasp at his arms. Cathy and Diane hauled him back up over the sill and into the room.
“Stay down!” Cathy whispered. “It’s Miss Scrimmage! She’s got Bruno and Boots!”
“I thought I heard screams!” said Miss Scrimmage, pointing a shotgun at the two boys. “You should be ashamed of yourselves, coming over here and terrorizing my poor innocent girls! Hands over your heads!” Her hair curlers bounced as she gestured with the shotgun towards the highway. “Now quick-march back to Macdonald Hall! I’m taking you to Mr. Sturgeon! Move, both of you!”
Bruno looked around. There were only two of them. What had happened to Elmer?
Miss Scrimmage, seething with indignation, marched them across the road and the Macdonald Hall campus to the Headmaster’s cottage, which stood at the edge of the south lawn. Heedless of the fact that it was one o’clock in the morning and that she was in her dressing gown, she rang the bell insistently.
A few moments passed before Mr. Sturgeon appeared at the door in his red silk bathrobe and his bedroom slippers. He took in the scene with one horrified glance.
“Miss Scrimmage, put that weapon down this instant!” he exclaimed. “How dare you point it at any of my boys!”
“They are marauders!” Miss Scrimmage accused. “I caught them on our grounds terrorizing my poor, defenceless girls! You may consider yourself lucky that I did not simply turn them over to the police!”
The Headmaster hustled Bruno and Boots into his house and placed himself between them and Miss Scrimmage. “The police,” he said in icy rage, “would be interested to know that you chase children around with guns in the dead of night. These boys will be dealt with. Good evening.” He slammed the door in her face.
Mr. Sturgeon turned to Bruno and Boots to find his wife comforting them.
“Mildred,” he said, “please go back to bed.”
She ignored him. “Bruno, Melvin, you poor boys! You must be awfully frightened! What were you doing over there?”
Wordlessly Boots held out the food parcel.
Mrs. Sturgeon opened the bag. “Sandwiches! Oh, William, they were hungry! I told you growing boys have to have their evening snack!”
“Enough of this!” exclaimed Mr. Sturgeon. He opened the door a crack and peered outside.
“Is the coast clear, sir?” asked Bruno in a small voice.
“You may go,” barked Mr. Sturgeon, “but you will be in my office at eight tomorrow morning. Goodnight.”
* * *
“Oh, Miss Scrimmage, it was just terrible!” quavered Cathy. “We were so scared! Thank goodness you saved us!”
Miss Scrimmage sat down on the bed under which Elmer Drimsdale cowered, paralyzed with fear. “You poor darlings,” she said comfortingly. “You have nothing to fear while I am here. I can smell an intruder anywhere!”
Underneath the bed, some dust went up Elmer’s nose. He sneezed.
“Gesundheit, dear,” said Miss Scrimmage.
“Thank you,” said Cathy and Diane both at the same time.
“Would you two girls like me to spend the night in your room?” the Headmistress offered kindly.
“No!” cried Diane.
“What she means,” said Cathy quickly, “is that she has this terrible cold — you heard her sneeze — and we wouldn’t want you to catch it.”
“Oh,” said Miss Scrimmage. “How thoughtful of you. But Catherine might catch it too. Come along, Diane. To the infirmary with you. I shall look after you.”
With a glance of pure hatred at her grinning roommate, Diane followed Miss Scrimmage from the room. Cathy dragged Elmer out from under the bed. “All clear,” she said cheerfully.
Elmer mouthed the words, “I think I’m going to be sick.” His voice was gone again.
“I can understand how this sort of thing might upset you, this being your first time here,” she said sympathetically. “I’ll get a cold cloth for your head. You’ll have to stick around for a couple of hours anyway, until the heat’s off. Meanwhile, please make yourself comfortable. There’s a nice bed over there. Diane won’t be needing it tonight.”
Elmer moaned and lay down, gingerly trying to sort out the events of the evening.
* * *
“Where can he be?” exclaimed Bruno for the umpteenth time, pacing the floor like a worried father.
“I don’t care where he is!” cried Boots. “Bruno, will you think of us for a minute? The Fish is going to kill us tomorrow!”
“But what about Elmer? He’s helpless! And we just left him there!” Bruno was stricken with guilt.
“We didn’t leave him. We were marched away at gunpoint.” Boots sighed miserably. “Don’t worry, Bruno. The way our luck has been running tonight, he’ll probably turn up safe and sound!”
Chapter 3
Attention, World!
It was four o’clock in the morning when Bruno and Boots were awakened by a frantic scratching at the window. The two boys rushed over and pulled Elmer in.
He was a sight to behold. His face was shiny with perspiration, and his usually neat crew cut was standing on end. He was twitching nervously and his eyes were wild. He looked like a hunted animal.
“Where have you been?” stormed Bruno. “We’ve been worried sick!”
His shaky knees collapsing under him, Elmer sat down on the floor to tell his tale of woe. “It was horrible!” he croaked. “After those two girls saved me from Miss Scrimmage they wouldn’t let me leave! They made me hide under the bed! When Miss Scrimmage came in and sat down on the bed, I was terrified!”
Bruno and Boots could bear it no longer. They burst into uncontrollable laughter.
Elmer was outraged. “It’s not amusing! And besides, they told Miss Scrimmage the most horrid lies about you. They said you were terrorizing them until she came along and saved them!”
By this time Bruno and Boots had collapsed to the floor in hysterics.
“Then I had to stay there for three hours before that Cathy person would let me leave,” Elmer continued. “It was the most harrowing experience of my life!”
“No more, Elmer!” gasped Bruno, exhausted. “I can’t stand it!”
Boots caught his breath. “Not bad for a first time out! Elmer, I’m nominating you for Rookie of the Year!”
“It’s all very well for you to laugh,” protested Elmer reproachfully. “You didn’t have to go through what I did.”
“Hah!” said Boots. “Old Scrimmage marched us to The Fish at gunpoint and he almost had a fit! We’ve got to see him in the office at eight o’clock. We’re cooked!”
Elmer turned even paler. “Does — does Mr. Sturgeon know about me?”
“No, he doesn’t,” said Boots. “You’re clean.”
Elmer sighed with relief and turned to Bruno. “You told me you never get caught,” he accused. “Miss Scrimmage caught you.”
Bruno shrugged. “It was a one-in-a-million chance,” he said. “Even a pro like me can have an off night. There’s no way it could ever happen again. She
got lucky.”
“Lucky or not,” Boots said mournfully, “we’re the ones who are going to have to face the music.”
* * *
“William, what are you going to do to those poor boys?”
Mr. Sturgeon sipped his breakfast coffee. “I don’t know, Mildred,” he replied. “I am still Headmaster here, and roaming the countryside in the dead of night is frowned upon by this institution.”
“But they were hungry,” his wife pleaded. “They aren’t getting enough to eat!”
“They are getting enough to eat,” he snapped back. “They just aren’t eating it.” He shook his head. “I should be furious with them, but somehow I just feel angry at that awful Scrimmage woman. Every time I think of her being allowed to own that shotgun … If she ever hurts one of my boys, I’ll —”
“William, you’re shouting again.”
* * *
At precisely 8 AM, Bruno and Boots marched past the heavy oak door with HEADMASTER lettered in gold, and into the office. They ignored the comfortable chairs intended for visitors and automatically sat down on the hard wooden bench facing Mr. Sturgeon’s desk.
The Headmaster leaned forward, fixing them with the cold, fish-like stare which made his nickname all the more appropriate.
“Lights-out at Macdonald Hall occurs at exactly ten o’clock,” he said icily. “From that moment on all students are expected to be in their beds. Miss Scrimmage’s Finishing School for Young Ladies is off limits at all times, especially in the middle of the night. Are those rules something new to you?”
“No, sir,” Bruno admitted quietly.
“I’m very happy to hear that,” said Mr. Sturgeon. “I never want to catch you over there again. Is that understood?”
“Yes, sir,” chorused Bruno and Boots.
“Excellent,” said Mr. Sturgeon. “At least I’m glad to see you didn’t involve Drimsdale in your nonsense. As for your punishment — except for mealtimes, you are to spend the rest of today in your room.” He stood up. “Dismissed.”
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