got to get out of here! Any second now —”
The fire bell went off with an ear-splitting clang.
“Oh,” grinned Bruno. “It’s a riot. Why didn’t you say so in the first place?”
Diana covered her eyes and whimpered.
Bruno grabbed her by the arm and ran out into the residence hall. It was full of girls, fully dressed, screaming, banging doors and making as much noise as possible as they headed for the exits. Suddenly the corridor lights went out.
“What’s going on?” bellowed Bruno, stumbling in the darkness, the bell still clanging in his ears. He grabbed the person nearest to him. It was Cathy.
“Oh, hi,” she greeted him. “How are you?”
Bruno and the girls thundered down the stairs and out the front door onto the lawn. He turned to see a crowd of boys from Macdonald Hall swarming across the highway, coming to the girls’ rescue.
“Where’s Miss Peabody?”
shouted Cathy.
“Yeah! Where’s Miss Peabody?” echoed someone.
“Who’s Miss Peabody?”
shouted half the Macdonald Hall crowd.
“Shut up and rescue, stupid! Can’t you see there’s a fire going on?”
Miss Scrimmage burst out the front door, shining her flashlight into people’s faces and waving her shotgun in the air. “Girls! Girls! Don’t panic!”
“Stay where you are!” Mr. Wizzle was shouting. “Stay whereyou are, or you’ll all get demerits!”
Mr. Sturgeon ran into the scene, dressed in his red silk bathrobe and bedroom slippers. “Put the gun down, Miss Scrimmage!” he called nervously, convinced from past experience that even a fire was not as dangerous as the Headmistress with her shotgun. He began to make his way through the surging crowd toward Miss Scrimmage. There, in a crowd of girls, prancing, shouting and rioting with the best of them, was Bruno Walton.
“Walton,” said Mr. Sturgeon, quietly, but clearly.
Bruno wheeled. “Oh! — uh — hello, sir.”
“Walton, is there a fire here?”
“Well, actually, sir,” said Bruno, “I don’t think so.”
“Then what,” asked the Headmaster amidst the screaming voices of the girls, the shouting of the boys and the loud clanging of the fire bell, “is the
meaning
of all this?”
Onto the front balcony burst Gloria Peabody, eyes blazing. She cupped her hands to her mouth. “Atten-
hut
!!!”
There was instant, deafening silence, broken only by the insistent clanging of the fire bell. Everyone froze.
“Now,” she shouted, her strong voice carrying across the lawn even to the apple orchard, where some of the students were perched in the trees, “everyone from Macdonald Hall,
scram
!”
“Oh, Miss Peabody,” called out Mr. Wizzle. “Could I please have a word —”
“You’ve had it! The word was scram!”
The boys from Macdonald Hall turned and ran across the highway, their teachers hot on their heels. Even Mr. Sturgeon,struggling to maintain his dignity, scurried across the road, slippers flapping.
The girls of Miss Scrimmage’s stood frozen in terror, staring up at the balcony, waiting for the boom to descend on them.
“You’ll be sorry you lost this sleep!” Miss Peabody thundered. “Calisthenics are at six-thirty, as usual! After class you’re all going to run laps!” She paused. All that could be heard was the fire alarm, still ringing. “And someone turn that racket off!”
Miss Scrimmage scurried into the building and in a few moments the alarm was silent.
A number of cars had stopped on the soft shoulder of the highway, and several helpful motorists came forward to offer their assistance.
“Get out of here! Mind your own business!”
A baffled driver turned to Cathy. “Is this a school?”
“Not anymore,” she said bitterly. “It’s an army camp.”
Chapter 6
An Earth-Shaking Idea
For days following the riot, things were quiet at Macdonald Hall. Bruno, still miffed at being deserted by his committee, ate all his meals alone and lived behind a wall of silence. Mr. Wizzle, finding Bruno fully dressed
The fire bell went off with an ear-splitting clang.
“Oh,” grinned Bruno. “It’s a riot. Why didn’t you say so in the first place?”
Diana covered her eyes and whimpered.
Bruno grabbed her by the arm and ran out into the residence hall. It was full of girls, fully dressed, screaming, banging doors and making as much noise as possible as they headed for the exits. Suddenly the corridor lights went out.
“What’s going on?” bellowed Bruno, stumbling in the darkness, the bell still clanging in his ears. He grabbed the person nearest to him. It was Cathy.
“Oh, hi,” she greeted him. “How are you?”
Bruno and the girls thundered down the stairs and out the front door onto the lawn. He turned to see a crowd of boys from Macdonald Hall swarming across the highway, coming to the girls’ rescue.
“Where’s Miss Peabody?”
shouted Cathy.
“Yeah! Where’s Miss Peabody?” echoed someone.
“Who’s Miss Peabody?”
shouted half the Macdonald Hall crowd.
“Shut up and rescue, stupid! Can’t you see there’s a fire going on?”
Miss Scrimmage burst out the front door, shining her flashlight into people’s faces and waving her shotgun in the air. “Girls! Girls! Don’t panic!”
“Stay where you are!” Mr. Wizzle was shouting. “Stay whereyou are, or you’ll all get demerits!”
Mr. Sturgeon ran into the scene, dressed in his red silk bathrobe and bedroom slippers. “Put the gun down, Miss Scrimmage!” he called nervously, convinced from past experience that even a fire was not as dangerous as the Headmistress with her shotgun. He began to make his way through the surging crowd toward Miss Scrimmage. There, in a crowd of girls, prancing, shouting and rioting with the best of them, was Bruno Walton.
“Walton,” said Mr. Sturgeon, quietly, but clearly.
Bruno wheeled. “Oh! — uh — hello, sir.”
“Walton, is there a fire here?”
“Well, actually, sir,” said Bruno, “I don’t think so.”
“Then what,” asked the Headmaster amidst the screaming voices of the girls, the shouting of the boys and the loud clanging of the fire bell, “is the
meaning
of all this?”
Onto the front balcony burst Gloria Peabody, eyes blazing. She cupped her hands to her mouth. “Atten-
hut
!!!”
There was instant, deafening silence, broken only by the insistent clanging of the fire bell. Everyone froze.
“Now,” she shouted, her strong voice carrying across the lawn even to the apple orchard, where some of the students were perched in the trees, “everyone from Macdonald Hall,
scram
!”
“Oh, Miss Peabody,” called out Mr. Wizzle. “Could I please have a word —”
“You’ve had it! The word was scram!”
The boys from Macdonald Hall turned and ran across the highway, their teachers hot on their heels. Even Mr. Sturgeon,struggling to maintain his dignity, scurried across the road, slippers flapping.
The girls of Miss Scrimmage’s stood frozen in terror, staring up at the balcony, waiting for the boom to descend on them.
“You’ll be sorry you lost this sleep!” Miss Peabody thundered. “Calisthenics are at six-thirty, as usual! After class you’re all going to run laps!” She paused. All that could be heard was the fire alarm, still ringing. “And someone turn that racket off!”
Miss Scrimmage scurried into the building and in a few moments the alarm was silent.
A number of cars had stopped on the soft shoulder of the highway, and several helpful motorists came forward to offer their assistance.
“Get out of here! Mind your own business!”
A baffled driver turned to Cathy. “Is this a school?”
“Not anymore,” she said bitterly. “It’s an army camp.”
Chapter 6
An Earth-Shaking Idea
For days following the riot, things were quiet at Macdonald Hall. Bruno, still miffed at being deserted by his committee, ate all his meals alone and lived behind a wall of silence. Mr. Wizzle, finding Bruno fully dressed
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