reaction,” explained Elmer, “rather similar to the ingestion of large quantities of alcoholic beverages.”
“Elmer, speak English!” Bruno snapped.
“Mr. Flynn is drunk,” translated Elmer.
Bruno and Boots sat down on the ground and laughed, mostly with relief.
“Perhaps we had better attend to him,” suggested Elmer. “This will, of course, wear off in a few hours, but it would never do if someone saw him in this condition. After all, it is your fault.”
“Our fault?” objected Bruno as they began hurrying to Dormitory 2. “It was your concoction that got him bombed!”
“It was administered incorrectly,” accused Elmer primly.
They entered the dormitory and ran down the hall. The door of room 200 was open. Flynn was gone.
“Oh, no!” moaned Boots, leaning against the wall for support.
“Oh, no!” repeated Bruno. “If we don’t find him before The Fish sees him, we’ll have to confess!”
“Oh, no!” echoed Elmer. “Where could he have gone?”
“If you were a drunk gym teacher, where would you go?” demanded Bruno.
“I would stay home where I wouldn’t worry my students!” muttered Boots feelingly.
“We have to get him back to his room!” Bruno said. “Elmer, check the gym. Boots, you look in his office in the Faculty Building. I’ll take the staff dining room. Come on, let’s move!”
The three boys ran out of Dormitory 2 and were about to go off on their separate errands when, across the road, Miss Scrimmage’s outdoor public address system sprang to life.
“Oh, give me a home where the buffalo roam,”
sang a male voice loudly and rather off-key.
“Flynn!” chorused Bruno and Boots, horrified.
As Flynn finished his song, a voice they recognized as Cathy Burton’s howled, “One more time!”
Obediently, Flynn began again.
Finally Cathy’s voice returned.
“Attention out there.”
“You tell ’em!”
cheered Flynn.
“
We have a stray here,”
Cathy continued.
“He’s tall, red-haired, and answers to the name of Al. Would someone please come to claim him immediately.”
As Bruno and Boots rushed towards Scrimmage’s, a nervous Elmer Drimsdale stumbling along behind them, they could see a group of girls escorting their coach down the driveway to the side of the road. The boys ran up to them.
“Is Miss Scrimmage around?” Boots asked anxiously. “Did she see him?”
“Yes and no,” offered Cathy. “When he walked into her sitting room and asked her to dance, she fainted.” She turned to Flynn. “Okay, Al, it’s time for you to go home now.”
“Don’t want to go,” said Flynn sulkily. “Like it here.”
“Come again any time, Al,” said Cathy genially.
“ ’Bye.”
Bruno, Boots and Elmer hustled Flynn across the road and across the campus to Dormitory 2. Luckily, they attracted very little attention from the student body and were not seen by any member of the staff.
“Please, Coach,” begged Boots as they placed Flynn on his bed, “please have a nap.”
“I know! Let’s play cards!” Flynn suggested brightly.
“We can’t, sir,” said Elmer. “We have classes this afternoon.
“Then why are you wasting my time?” cried Flynn, starting for the door. “I’m going back to that Scrimmage place! Asked a lady to dance …”
“Cards it is!” said Bruno quickly.
“Good! Didn’t like her anyway.” Flynn rummaged through a drawer for a deck of cards.
Bruno noticed Elmer quietly sneaking out the door. “Drimsdale, get back here! You’re in this too!” Red-faced, Elmer slithered back in.
“And just to make it interesting,” said Flynn, “we’ll play for toothpicks.”
They all sat down on the floor and began to play poker. In half an hour Flynn was fast asleep and Elmer had won all the toothpicks.
“Beginner’s luck,” mumbled Bruno. They tiptoed out, careful not to waken their sleeping coach.
* * *
“Miss Scrimmage,” Mr. Sturgeon snapped into his office telephone, “you have made up stories before,
“Elmer, speak English!” Bruno snapped.
“Mr. Flynn is drunk,” translated Elmer.
Bruno and Boots sat down on the ground and laughed, mostly with relief.
“Perhaps we had better attend to him,” suggested Elmer. “This will, of course, wear off in a few hours, but it would never do if someone saw him in this condition. After all, it is your fault.”
“Our fault?” objected Bruno as they began hurrying to Dormitory 2. “It was your concoction that got him bombed!”
“It was administered incorrectly,” accused Elmer primly.
They entered the dormitory and ran down the hall. The door of room 200 was open. Flynn was gone.
“Oh, no!” moaned Boots, leaning against the wall for support.
“Oh, no!” repeated Bruno. “If we don’t find him before The Fish sees him, we’ll have to confess!”
“Oh, no!” echoed Elmer. “Where could he have gone?”
“If you were a drunk gym teacher, where would you go?” demanded Bruno.
“I would stay home where I wouldn’t worry my students!” muttered Boots feelingly.
“We have to get him back to his room!” Bruno said. “Elmer, check the gym. Boots, you look in his office in the Faculty Building. I’ll take the staff dining room. Come on, let’s move!”
The three boys ran out of Dormitory 2 and were about to go off on their separate errands when, across the road, Miss Scrimmage’s outdoor public address system sprang to life.
“Oh, give me a home where the buffalo roam,”
sang a male voice loudly and rather off-key.
“Flynn!” chorused Bruno and Boots, horrified.
As Flynn finished his song, a voice they recognized as Cathy Burton’s howled, “One more time!”
Obediently, Flynn began again.
Finally Cathy’s voice returned.
“Attention out there.”
“You tell ’em!”
cheered Flynn.
“
We have a stray here,”
Cathy continued.
“He’s tall, red-haired, and answers to the name of Al. Would someone please come to claim him immediately.”
As Bruno and Boots rushed towards Scrimmage’s, a nervous Elmer Drimsdale stumbling along behind them, they could see a group of girls escorting their coach down the driveway to the side of the road. The boys ran up to them.
“Is Miss Scrimmage around?” Boots asked anxiously. “Did she see him?”
“Yes and no,” offered Cathy. “When he walked into her sitting room and asked her to dance, she fainted.” She turned to Flynn. “Okay, Al, it’s time for you to go home now.”
“Don’t want to go,” said Flynn sulkily. “Like it here.”
“Come again any time, Al,” said Cathy genially.
“ ’Bye.”
Bruno, Boots and Elmer hustled Flynn across the road and across the campus to Dormitory 2. Luckily, they attracted very little attention from the student body and were not seen by any member of the staff.
“Please, Coach,” begged Boots as they placed Flynn on his bed, “please have a nap.”
“I know! Let’s play cards!” Flynn suggested brightly.
“We can’t, sir,” said Elmer. “We have classes this afternoon.
“Then why are you wasting my time?” cried Flynn, starting for the door. “I’m going back to that Scrimmage place! Asked a lady to dance …”
“Cards it is!” said Bruno quickly.
“Good! Didn’t like her anyway.” Flynn rummaged through a drawer for a deck of cards.
Bruno noticed Elmer quietly sneaking out the door. “Drimsdale, get back here! You’re in this too!” Red-faced, Elmer slithered back in.
“And just to make it interesting,” said Flynn, “we’ll play for toothpicks.”
They all sat down on the floor and began to play poker. In half an hour Flynn was fast asleep and Elmer had won all the toothpicks.
“Beginner’s luck,” mumbled Bruno. They tiptoed out, careful not to waken their sleeping coach.
* * *
“Miss Scrimmage,” Mr. Sturgeon snapped into his office telephone, “you have made up stories before,
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