Beware the Fisj by Gordon Korman Read Free Book Online Page B

thud.
    “Halt!” cried a voice, and they could see the beam of a flashlight below.
    “Oh, no!” moaned Bruno, yanking Boots away from the window. “It’s her again! What does she want from me?”
    “Your neck,” snapped Boots. “And mine.”
    “She’ll be up here in a minute. We’d better get you guys to sanctuary.” Cathy bustled them out into the corridor and knocked on the next door. A tall, red-haired girl opened up and peered out.
    “Hi, Ruth,” greeted Cathy genially. “Would you hide these for us? We’ll be back for them soon.” She shoved Bruno and Boots into the room, shut the door and reentered her own room.
    “Hi, Ruth,” said Bruno conversationally. “I’m Bruno, he’s Boots.”
    The girl grinned. “I’ve heard about you two. The sleeping beauty over there,” she indicated her slumbering roommate, “is Wilma Dorf.”
    There were quick footsteps in the hall. “And the avenging angel out there,” whispered Bruno, “is Miss Scrimmage. What have you got in the way of a listening device?”
    Ruth reached into the bathroom and handed him a drinking glass. Bruno put his ear to the glass and the glass to the wall just in time to hear Cathy say, “Oh, Miss Scrimmage, they were back! They were bothering us!”
    “Never mind, dear,” comforted the Headmistress. “I chased them away. But I’ve got them this time. One of them left his shoe behind. Now that old goat — uh — now Mr. Sturgeon will have to admit that I am right and that his boys have been harassing us.”
    “Miss Scrimmage, you’re so clever!” exclaimed Cathy.
    “I do what I must,” replied Miss Scrimmage modestly. “Now you two go to sleep. Young ladies must have their rest.”
    Bruno heard the door click, and then more footsteps in the hall. In a few seconds Cathy was tapping at the door. Ruth opened it.
    “Thanks a lot,” said Cathy. “I hope they weren’t too much trouble. They’re very mischievous, you know.”
    “It’s their age,” grinned Ruth. “Goodnight.”
    Cathy ushered them back into her room, where they found Diane white as a sheet. “Cathy, how could you say all that with a straight face?” she asked, aghast. “Don’t you get scared?”
    Cathy laughed. “Of Miss Scrimmage? Never!” She turned to Bruno and Boots. “I’m afraid you’ll have to stick around for a while. I think Miss Scrimmage is going over to Mr. Sturgeon’s house with Boots’s shoe. If she sees you two walking across the campus she’ll blast you to kingdom come!”
    “My shoe!” moaned Boots. “The Fish’ll know it’s mine!”
    “Don’t be an idiot,” soothed Bruno. “It’s just a sneaker, that’s all.”
    “I know,” said Cathy brightly. “Nothing livens up a dull evening like food. Diane, see what you can find in the kitchen.”
    * * *
    It was after 1 AM when Mr. Sturgeon answered the insistent ringing of his doorbell. He opened the door to find Miss Scrimmage standing there, indignation written all over her face.
    “Your gang of marauders was back tonight!” she accused. “I scared them away.”
    “I see,” said Mr. Sturgeon cautiously. “I trust they didn’t harm you?”
    “No, I’m fine, thank you,” the Headmistress replied. She waved Boots’s tennis shoe under his nose. “One of them left this behind. A significant clue, wouldn’t you say?”
    Mr. Sturgeon smiled thinly. “Miss Scrimmage, that shoe could very well belong to one of your girls.”
    Miss Scrimmage stiffened. “Young ladies do not have feet of such gargantuan proportions,” she retorted icily. “I want you to have a bed check immediately. And every boy at Macdonald Hall must be made to try on this shoe. That way we shall discover who one of the terrorists is.”
    Mr. Sturgeon did something he seldom did. He laughed out loud. “Miss Scrimmage,” he replied finally, still chuckling, “this is a school, not a twenty-first century version of Cinderella. May I suggest that you go home and sleep it off. No doubt things