This Can't Be Happening at Macdonald Hall by Gordon Korman Read Free Book Online

my homework!”
    A door opened and a boy peered out into the hall. “Oh, no! Ants!” he cried. “They’re back! And this time they’ve brought a skunk with them!”
    More doors opened. Soon dozens of boys were milling around.
    â€œAnts!”
    â€œSkunk!”
    â€œHelp!”
    Bruno, worried that Petunia was going to be trampled in the riot, picked her up and carried her over to Elmer. “Here, Petunia,” he said. “Kiss and make up. You weren’t nice. You gave Uncle Elmer a nasty fright.” Elmer backed away, trembling.
    â€œStand still!” Bruno ordered. “You’ll step on my ants!”
    â€œ
You
keep ants
too
?” cried one boy. “201’s a bughouse!”
    â€œI had ninety-six ants in that jar,” Bruno sternly informed Elmer. “You owe me ninety-six ants.”
    Only then did Bruno notice a familiar figure standing at the end of the hall, his arms folded, watching. Mr. Sturgeon spoke quietly, but every boy heard and obeyed. “All of you — into your rooms. Walton, give me that skunk.”
    Bruno held Petunia out to Mr. Sturgeon. She bit his finger. “I’ll get her cage, sir,” Bruno said quickly. He went into his room, fished the cage out from under the bed and locked Petunia in. “Here she is, sir.”
    â€œYou carry it,” ordered Mr. Sturgeon. “And follow me. Unless I’m mistaken, this animal is the pet of a young lady at Miss Scrimmage’s. I am not going to ask how it came into your possession because, frankly, I do not wish to know. But we will return it to its owner together.”
    * * *
    Boots tiptoed into his room after classes. The light was dim and the victim lay still on his bed, looking paler than the sheets and apparently breathing his last.
    â€œWhere have you been?” George moaned. “Where’s the doctor?”
    â€œBrace yourself,” Boots told him, tying a handkerchief around his face like a surgical mask. “Dr. Leroy has creeping caliotis too; so does three-quarters of the school. They’re dropping like flies. It’s a full-fledged epidemic!”
    â€œHas anybody
died
?” George asked, terrified.
    â€œNot yet,” Boots replied gravely, “but there are lots in comas. The army has sent a medical unit and the campus is in quarantine. There’s even a roadblock.”
    â€œBut did you tell them about me?” George groaned.
    Boots nodded. “Of course, but you’re three hundred and fifty-second on the waiting list. Don’t worry. I’ll stay and take care of you until help comes.”
    George was overcome with gratitude. He reached for a paper and pencil on the night table. “I’ve been writing my will,” he croaked, his throat obviously very sore. “I’m going to leave you my Magneco for your devotion, Melvin.” He wrote a few lines and collapsed back onto the pillow. “Could you get me a cold cloth for my head?” he pleaded. “I must have a terribly high fever.”
    Boots wet a washcloth and gently placed it on his roommate’s forehead. “I’d better go and write my mother,” he said sadly. “If I catch creeping caliotis from you I’ll want her to have a last few words to remember me by.”
    â€œOoooh!” groaned George. He raised a trembling hand to his forehead and picked up the wet cloth to rearrange it. Large red blobs covered the white terrycloth. He stared at it for a few seconds, then rubbed it across his cheek. More red blobs.
    â€œPaint,” said George softly; then louder, “Paint … You
tricked
me!
I’ll kill you!
” He leaped out of bed, grabbed a cricket bat and tore after Boots, who by this time was out of the room and halfway out of the building.
    * * *
    Mr. Sturgeon, Bruno and Petunia were making their way across the campus when Boots flashed by. “Hello, sir!” he panted.
    Seconds later a