Quickly, Bruno eased the lid back down over them. “There’s someone on the stairs outside!”
They crouched there, frozen, watching the doorknob turn.
“This is it!” whispered Bruno.
And then the door was open, and a long thin shadow was splashed across the foyer — the shadow, they hoped, of the Phantom.
* * *
Cathy tapped lightly on the door of Marylou Beakman’s room. “It may take her a while,” she whispered. “She’s probably asleep.”
But the door opened almost immediately, and it was no sleepy pyjama-clad girl who appeared. Marylou was wide awake and fully dressed, her red hair held neatly back by a bright green headband.
“Oh,” said Cathy, annoyed. “What are you doing up?”
Marylou laughed. “I could ask you the same question.” Her eyes moved beyond the girls and fell on Elmer. “Hey, you’re the guy who won the Summer Science Fair. How did you get here?”
“I–I —” Elmer just stood there, sweating and staring.
“Elmer goes to Macdonald Hall,” Diane supplied.
Cathy put an arm around Elmer’s shoulders. “One of the coolest guys there. Best friends with Bruno and Boots. Why don’t you invite us in, and we’ll hang out for a while?”
“Well, I — uh —”
But Cathy pushed right past her and propelled herself, Diane and Elmer into the room.
“I’m kind of busy,” said Marylou.
“Hey, how’s it going?” Cathy greeted Marylou’s roommate.
The sleeping girl rolled over, snoring softly. Cathy turned to Marylou. “When did Teresa lapse into a coma?”
Marylou shuffled uncomfortably. “She’s kind of a heavy sleeper.”
Elmer had been steeling himself to make a comment, and finally it came: “This is a very impressive room, Marylou. Truly magnificent.”
Everyone stared at him. The room was a Xerox copy of every other one at Scrimmage’s.
“Uh — thanks,” said Marylou uncertainly.
A tap at the window made them all jump. Her face bright red with guilt, Marylou opened the window and grabbed a gloved hand.
Elmer was devastated. “It’s her boyfriend!” he whispered to Cathy. “I told you!”
A leg was slung over the sill; a body appeared, then a head.
Cathy gaped. “Edward?”
Edward O’Neal looked from the crowd to Marylou. “Did I come on the wrong night?”
Marylou helped him the rest of the way into the room.
Diane was still trying to figure things out. “Edward is Marylou’s boyfriend?”
“Boyfriend?” repeated Marylou. “What gave you that idea?”
“It’s pretty obvious,” said Cathy. “What’s he doing here?”
“None of your business!” snapped Edward.
“Oh, yeah?” Cathy snatched up his backpack. With a flick of her wrist, she unzipped it and dumped the contents on the floor: a ruler, protractor, compass, reams of scribbled notes and a thick textbook titled Geometry.
Diane frowned. “I don’t get it. Who brings his girlfriend math homework?”
Edward stuck out his chin. “She’s not my girlfriend! If you must know, I ran into Marylou that first night I came over here. We got to talking and she mentioned she was on the math team. I asked her to help me with geometry so I wouldn’t flunk — sue me!”
Elmer spoke up. “But why didn’t you come to me? I would have helped you.”
“Then my brother would have found out,” Edward explained. “And he would have told my mother. So please don’t spill the beans.”
“I promise,” said Elmer. He was so grateful to Edward for not being Marylou’s boyfriend, he would have promised anything.
* * *
Bruno and Boots watched breathlessly as the long shadow advanced across the Faculty Building floor. Their eyes fixed on the door, they waited for whoever was casting that image.
And suddenly, there was the figure, standing just inside the entrance. The Phantom was dressed all in black, with a dark ski mask covering his face.
Boots’s heart was pounding in his throat. He could see the Phantom’s eyes through the ski mask. They looked so familiar! His mind worked furiously, but he could not connect those eyes with any of the suspects. One thing, though, was clear; those eyes were focused on the Discus Thrower on the wall.
With swift, light steps, the Phantom breezed past the lost and found box and crossed the foyer to Chris Talbot’s poster. From a pocket, the figure produced two things: a long brown feather and a magic marker. The feather he laid carefully on the floor under the Discus Thrower. Then he pulled the cap from the marker.
The pen moved forward in a steady hand …
“Now!” cried Bruno, hurling back the lid of the wooden box.
Bruno and Boots scrambled out of the lost and found and hurled themselves at the Phantom. Both boys were expecting a struggle from the master prankster who had eluded capture for so long. But the Phantom merely stood and allowed Boots to pull his arms behind his back.
Eyes blazing, Bruno stepped out in front of the captive. “So this is the great Phantom,” he jeered. “The uncatchable joker, the Houdini of Macdonald Hall. Well, buddy-boy, you are toast!”
He reached out and yanked off the ski mask, revealing at last the face of the Phantom.
Bruno’s jaw dropped.
Boots released his captive and staggered back, wheezing.
The Phantom cast them a dazzling smile. “Bruno — Melvin.”
It was Mrs. Sturgeon!
Chapter 19
Watch Out for the Lasers
Mr. Sturgeon was normally a sound sleeper — even more so now that he was dosed with pain pills. But in the midst of an elaborate dream, his foot suddenly exploded like a hand grenade. He woke up to a searing pain and the realization that he had rolled over and kicked the bedpost with his sore toe.
He stifled a cry to avoid waking his wife. But when he looked over to make sure she was undisturbed, he noticed that she was not even there.
He sat up. “Mildred?”
There was no answer.
“Mildred —” he called, louder.
Still no reply.
He got out of bed and hobbled to the top of the stairs. “Mildred!” he bellowed.
Where was his wife?
Somewhat alarmed, the Headmaster threw on his red silk bathrobe, stepped gingerly into his bedroom slippers and limped down the stairs. He looked out on the porch and scanned the deserted campus. All seemed quiet. Where on earth could she be?
Mr. Sturgeon frowned. He had no idea where to look, but he couldn’t just sit here in the house and wait for her to come back from wherever she was. What an odd situation!
He limped to the closet and shrugged into his overcoat. A small feathered hat fell from the top shelf and came to rest on his foot.
“Ugh,” he said aloud, picking it up. What an ugly hat. Since when did Mildred have such terrible taste? He snapped his fingers. This wasn’t his wife’s; this monstrosity belonged to Miss Scrimmage. She had left it here after her first snit of the school year. Idly, he wondered why Mildred had never returned it in all this time.
And — wait a minute. Miss Scrimmage’s hat had been covered in feathers. Yet now it was almost naked. What had happened to them?
What use could his wife have for ugly feathers? Long brown ones, the same kind the Phantom —
He dropped the hat as though it had burned his fingers. The unthinkable slammed into his mind with the force of a runaway train. Those were Phantom feathers! Could Mildred be the Phantom? It made no sense, but who could deny the evidence?
He grabbed his cane from the umbrella stand. More than ever now, it was urgent that he find his wife. Where could she be?
He paused at the door. Where would the Phantom be? It came to him with remarkable clarity. Tonight there could be only one target for the legendary practical joker of Macdonald Hall.
The Discus Thrower.
* * *
Elmer walked between Cathy and Diane back to their room. His feet hardly touched the floor. Every few steps, he would launch himself straight up, punching at the air and cheering, “Yes! Yes!”
“Cut it out!” hissed Diane. “You’ll wake up Miss Scrimmage!”
“I’m sorry,” Elmer struggled to contain himself. “I’m just so jubilant that Marylou doesn’t have a boyfriend! I am ebullient! Effervescent! Exultant!”
“You’re happy,” Cathy translated.
“That too,” confirmed the genius. “You know, I think Marylou liked me.”
“How could she resist?” groaned Cathy. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll raid the kitchen and we can chow down while Marylou is tutoring Edward. Then we can go back and you two can get acquainted.” She ran off, flashing thumbs-up.
Elmer glowed. “You’re great friends. Imagine — I used to think you girls were maniacs.”
Diane laughed and unlocked her door. “Now, you’ve got to promise to stop celebrating. It’s the middle of the night.”
“I’m sorry,” Elmer said again. “I just want the whole world to share in the joy I feel. I want to help people, right wrongs, spread sunshine —” As he danced in behind her, his foot caught under the hastily glued carpet. The edge came loose and flipped up, revealing the broken SectorWatch wire. “Here — I can help you with this.” He dropped to his knees, picked up the two broken ends and expertly wound them together.
Diane stared in horror. “Elmer — no!”
The P.A. system came to life:
Warning, came the computerized voice. The SectorWatch system is now armed. This is your thirty-second exit delay.
Slicing salami in the kitchen, Cathy turned to stone.
Halfway through an isosceles triangle, Marylou and Edward froze.
Miss Scrimmage sat bolt upright in bed.
Diane’s face was chalk-white. “Elmer, you idiot! You turned on the security system! You’ve got thirty seconds to get out of here!”
“But what about Marylou?” Elmer protested.
“If you’re not gone in thirty seconds, you’re trapped!” Diane shrilled, throwing open the window. “Hurry!”
Miserably, Elmer climbed out and began to ease down the drainpipe. The last thing he heard before the window slammed shut was Diane’s whisper: “And watch out for the lasers!”
Head spinning, Elmer jumped to the ground.
POW! He collided head-on with a running figure. It was Edward O’Neal, sprinting for home. Both boys collapsed to the ground, dazed.
The P.A. system crackled again: Warning. The exit delay is now complete. The Banshee II alarm is in full readiness.
“Let’s get out of here!” cried Edward, scrambling to his feet.
“No!” Elmer tackled him and brought him down. “I think the security system has lasers out here! If we break one of the beams, it’ll set off the alarm!”
Edward scanned the grounds. “I don’t see any lasers.”
“The beams are invisible!” Elmer hissed.
Edward threw his arms wide. “If we can’t see them, how do we avoid them?”
Elmer’s mind worked furiously. He knew so much science! But all of that was useless if he couldn’t put a little theory into practice.
He got to his feet, bumping his knee painfully on the tap of Miss Scrimmage’s lawn sprinkler system.
“Of course!” he said out loud. He twisted the tap handle. Jets of water began to squirt from dozens of outlets across the lawn. And there they were. The fine spray reflected the narrow beams of the SectorWatch lasers. Elmer and Edward looked out over a network of criss-crossing red lasers stretched out over the lawn like a spider’s web.
“Wow!” breathed Edward in awe.
“Follow me,” whispered Elmer.
The beams were a half metre off the ground. The two boys flattened themselves to the grass and began to snake their way under the laser web.
* * *
Bruno and Boots stared in mute shock at the wife of their Headmaster.
Bruno found his voice first. “Mrs. Sturgeon —” he barely whispered. “You’re the Phantom? But — but why? But how?”
She smiled sweetly. “I think I’ve proved that I have as much of a sense of humour as any of you boys.”
“Humour?” blurted Boots. “We almost got expelled over this Phantom stuff!”
“I would never have allowed that to happen,” she replied stoutly. “Why do you think I waited until you were in the office before I put the firecrackers in the waffle mix? You were with Mr. Sturgeon. That proved you weren’t the Phantom.”
“You saved our hides!” breathed Boots.
“All those gags were nothing compared with the joke of the Phantom’s true identity,” Bruno said in admiration. “How did you pull it off?”
She shrugged modestly. “No one suspects the Headmaster’s wife. Why, half the kitchen staff was there when I slipped those cherry bombs in the waffle mix. But nobody was watching me.”
“Amazing,” marvelled Boots, shaking his head. “You fooled everybody!”
“Not everybody,” she corrected ruefully. She indicated the Discus Thrower. “This was a trap all along, wasn’t it? You knew your Phantom wouldn’t be able to resist it.”
Bruno nodded. “Sorry, Ma’am. In a million years, we never dreamed it was going to be you.”
“It was brilliant,” she said approvingly. “I’m very proud of you. As soon as I saw the expanse of that magnificent posterior, I knew it was my next job.”
“Ma’am?” ventured Boots. “What happens now? Are you still going to be the Phantom?”
“Oh, no. The Phantom is hanging up his feathers as of tonight.” She stepped forward, pen at the ready. “This is my last caper.”
The boys watched with bated breath as she began to draw on the poster. Then she stepped away and there it was, written across the broad backside of the Discus Thrower: GOODYEAR.
Bruno clapped his hands like a small child in a toy store. “That’s perfect!”
Even Boots had to smile. “Nice one, Ma’am.”
There was the sound of someone outside on the front steps. The three froze and listened. The pace was uneven, like a limp, and there was the thump, thump, thump that could only be a cane.
All the colour drained out of Boots’s face. “It’s The Fish!” He stared in horror at Mrs. Sturgeon. “I mean — uh — your husband! Bruno …” How could they turn Mrs. Sturgeon in? She had always stuck up for them, been their friend in the worst of times. What if Mr. Sturgeon never forgave her? A forty-year marriage could go down the drain!
Bruno read his thoughts. “You’re right.”
With one mind, the two boys hustled Mrs. Sturgeon over to the lost and found box and stuffed her inside amidst the coats and scarves. They slammed down the lid a split second before the Headmaster limped onto the scene, grim-faced.
“Walton — O’Neal — what is going on here?”
“Well, sir, you caught us!” blurted Bruno. “The Phantom was us all along!”
“We lied!” babbled Boots. “We’re liars! There isn’t an honest bone in our bodies!”
“You’re probably going to have to expel us again,” Bruno added. “And this time make it stick.”
The Headmaster stared at them in amazement. Finally, he said, “You will return to your beds at once.”
“Oh, that’s not a good idea, sir,” said Bruno confidentially. “We’re dangerous. Look what we did. We wrote “Goodyear” on that poster, after all of Chris’s hard work.”
Mr. Sturgeon intensified his steely grey stare. “The only crime of which you boys are guilty is rewriting the curfew rules of Macdonald Hall. Don’t you two ever sleep? Get to bed this instant!”
Very reluctantly, Bruno and Boots slunk out of the Faculty Building.
The Headmaster waited until the heavy doors shut behind them. He cleared his throat. “Mildred, you can come out now.”
His wife flipped open the lid of the lost and found
box and stepped out. “Oh, hello, William. Working late, are we?”
He turned to her. “Tell me, Mildred. Tell me extraterrestrials kidnapped you and replaced you with one of their own. It was this creature, not you, who was the Phantom. Please tell me that, Mildred. Because from where I stand, it seems as though my wife of forty years has gone stark raving mad!”
“Oh, William,” she exclaimed. “I did it for you!”
He gawked. “For me? Why couldn’t you just knit me a nice pair of socks? How could you possibly think that reducing this school to utter chaos was something you should do for me?”
She put her hands on her hips and regarded him sternly. “At the beginning of this year you were turning into an old fuddy-duddy! You transformed a simple ingrown toenail into a heart transplant! Every second word out of your mouth was retirement because your job had no challenge for you anymore. So I gave you a challenge. I created a whole big mystery so you could see just how much this school needs you. Heaven knows you need this school!”
The Headmaster was struck dumb. He looked at his wife for a long time. Finally, he spoke. “Unbelievable as it may seem, I think I understand.”
“You’re welcome,” she said crisply.
“I suppose I have been a little difficult to live with,” he went on grudgingly.
“Like a bear with a sore nose,” his wife confirmed.
“You may be certain that we’re going to be at Macdonald Hall for a long time. And first thing tomorrow morning, I shall telephone Dr. Haupt and schedule the operation on my toe.”
She threw her arms around him. “Oh, William!”
Chapter 20
Earsplitting, Teeth-Rattling …
Under the laser web on Miss Scrimmage’s front property crawled Elmer and Edward. Both boys were soaked to the skin. The sprinklers had wet down the lawn, and there was mud everywhere. Covered in slime, they inhaled dead leaves and exhaled clumps of grass.
“How much further?” gurgled Edward miserably.
Elmer looked up, but all he could see was the mist of the sprinklers and the criss-crossing red lasers. He dared not raise his head above the spray for fear of breaking one of the beams and setting off the alarm. “We’re close! Extremely close!” he lied. Inside, he thought, We’ll never make it. We’ll trip the alarm and be caught and expelled. He might never get his chance with Marylou.