Bug Eyed Monsters by Jean Ure Page A

hastily off across the floor. ‘We’ll find it for you.’
    â€˜Sir, sir! What’s this, sir?’
    Joe was holding out a small black box on a strap.
    Greatly daring, Bal said, ‘It looks like a cloaking device, sir.’
    â€˜Cloaking device? What are you babbling about? That,’ said Mr Snitcher, ‘is my pedometer. It measures how many steps I take when I go for my jogs. An essential tool to maintain my well-being. Kindly put it back where you found it. And you!’ He poked at Ryan, busily crawling off towards the window. ‘You’re going in the wrong direction!’
    Ryan was about to turn himself round when Bal gave a triumphant cry.
    â€˜Sir, I think I’ve got it, sir!’
    He stabbed at something with his finger. Mr Snitcher let out a screech.
    â€˜Careful, careful, you’ll damage it!’

    â€˜Are you going to go to breakfast wearing it, sir?’
    â€˜Certainly not,’ said Mr Snitcher. ‘The Head Master would be most displeased.’
    â€˜But don’t you need to practise, sir?’
    â€˜I find it best at night.’ Mr Snitcher giggled again. ‘They glow, you know, in the dark!’
    So that, thought Harry, was that. Red contact lenses and a pedometer. And
gargling.
Huh!
    â€˜Still doesn’t mean he’s not one of ‘em,’ said Joe, as they clattered down the stairs to the dining hall.
    â€˜I dunno.’ Harry wasn’t quite so sure. Obviously
somebody
on the staff had been one of them; just not the Snitch. The Snitch was obviously just a bit weird. A bit mad. Lots of teachers were.
    â€˜Anyway,’ said Joe, ‘we’ll check ‘em out in assembly. See who’s missing.’
    Nobody was, as far as Harry could make out. All the prime suspects were there, including Mrs Jellybaby, though for the moment she didn’t really count.
    There was Mr Bulstrode, spluttering enthusiastically into the ear of a reluctant Mr Trout. There was Monsieur Tittinbot, nervously fingering his glass eye. Mr O’Hooligan, a football already clamped between his beefy thighs. Mr McNutter, absent-mindly gnawing on a pencil.Dr Dredge, at the lectern, standing on one leg like a stork. Who was missing?
    And then he realised… there
was
one person who wasn’t there.

Chapter Eight
Mr Smith Gets His Chips
    The Head Master made the announcement at the end of assembly.
With deep regret… sudden emergency… called back home… will be greatly missed.
    Right up until that moment, Harry had been secretly hoping it wasn’t true. Even now, he found it hard to get his head round the idea. It just didn’t seem possible!
    â€˜Reckon we ought to tell someone?’ said Joe, as they left the hall.
    But who could they tell?
    â€˜The Fish?’ said Ryan.
    â€˜Yeah.’ Joe nodded. ‘Tell the Fish!’
    If anyone were going to believe them, itwould be Mr Trout.
    He was there, at his desk, as they filed in for their first lesson.
    â€˜Sit!’ said Mr Trout. ‘What are you waiting for?’
    â€˜Need to speak to you, sir.’
    â€˜About mathematics, I trust?’
    â€˜N-not exactly, sir. The fact is, sir – ’
    â€˜
Yes?’
said Mr Trout. ‘The fact is…?’
    Joe took a deep breath and launched into the story. The others rushed to his support.
    â€˜It’s a fact, sir!’
    â€˜Saw it with our own eyes, sir!’
    â€˜All of us, sir!’
    â€˜Sorry, boys.’ Mr Trout shook his head. ‘You may have got away with it once, you’re not getting away with it again. I will not be sidetracked a second time! Be seated, we have work to do.’
    â€˜But, sir, please, sir, this is serious!’
    They clustered round the desk, earnestly beseeching him to listen.
    â€˜It’s true, sir! We saw it happen, sir!’
    â€˜We did, sir!’
    â€˜Top of Bunkers Hill, just like you said!’
    â€˜It was definitely a ship, sir! Could