THE SPOILED BOOK
The children put their books away thankfully and trooped out into the
yard. Miss Mason, after putting up every window, as was her custom,
went across the hall to the teachers' room.
Tim Roon was so busy dusting off the top of his desk and fastening
down his papers so that the wind would not blow them away that he was
the last pupil left in the room when Miss Mason went out, closing the
door behind her. Tim waited till he was sure she was not coming back,
then tiptoed hastily up to her desk.
"I'll show her!" he muttered, tumbling books and papers about till he
found what he wanted.
It was the illustrated and autographed book of verses. And now if any
one had been there to see Tim they would have been astonished at what
he did next. Reaching down into a kind of cabinet that formed the
lower part of Miss Mason's desk, Tim brought up a tall bottle of ink
from which the desk inkwells were filled. He took the stopper out and
opened the book.
"What you doing?" asked a voice at his elbow.
Tim's conscience was guilty enough, dear knows, so it was no wonder
that he jumped. A thick stream of ink spurted out and ran down the
crevice of the binding of the book. Tim closed it quickly.
"Gee, Charlie Black! you scared me," Tim said, relieved to find that
the voice belonged to his chum. "What am I doing? You just watch me!"
Tim opened the book again and poured out more ink. Then he closed it
and pressed down hard on the covers. He did this several times, each
inking making an ugly, blurry figure that completely ruined two or
three pages of the book.
"What's that for?" demanded Charlie.
"Think I'm going to be nagged every day in the week and never do a
thing about it?" growled Tim. "Maybe when she finds her precious book
marked up she'll begin to understand that there's some one who won't
stand for everything."
"How's she going to know you did it?" asked Charlie Black, watching
the ink seep into a fine illustration as Tim slowly poured more out.
"She won't know if I can help it," grinned that bad boy. "And if I
catch you opening your mouth----"
"I won't," promised Charlie hastily. "Honest, I won't say a word,
Tim."
"You'd better not," warned Tim darkly. "Let me ever find out you as
much as whispered you saw me and I'll, I'll--I don't know what I won't
do to you!"
This vague threat was sufficiently terrifying to insure obedience from
Charlie, who knew from experience that Tim could be both relentless
and cruel. There was little danger that he would ever betray his
chum.
"Now I guess that's finished," announced Tim with satisfaction,
closing the once lovely book. "Don't look at me when she takes it out
after recess to show the class. Wait till I put back these papers
where they were. There now, let's go downstairs and come up with the
others when the bell rings."
When the bell rang and the children came upstairs, they found a member
of the school committee sitting on the platform beside Miss Mason's
desk, and the teacher announced that they would have a reading lesson
for the first and second grades in place of the usual work.
"I will show you the book I promised to let the second grade see,
directly after the noon period," said Miss Mason. "I'm sorry I
couldn't be here this recess, but we had an important conference. Now,
Margaret, you may read the first paragraph of the third lesson."
Rufus Hornbeck was the name of the committeeman, and all the children
who had been to school before knew him as the head of the school
committee and a man who could, if he wished, scold even Mr. Carter,
the primary and grammar school principal. Some of the boys said that
"old Hornbeck," as they disrespectfully called him, had the right to
tell Mr. Fredericks, the high-school principal, what to do. But the
high-school was too far away for the majority of the boys to think
about.
"Come up here on the platform, and face the class," said Mr.
Hornbeck to Meg. "Read clearly now, and let your classmates enjoy the
story."
Poor Meg was very shy as she went up to the platform, for reading
aloud was an ordeal for her, though at home she always had her "nose
in a book," as Norah said. She reached the platform, grasped her
reading book tightly in both hands, and began to read hurriedly.
"That's enough," announced Miss Mason, as Meg came to the end of a
long paragraph.
Meg closed her book, stepped to one side to avoid the waste basket,
and put her foot squarely into Mr. Hornbeck's high silk hat which he
had placed carefully on the floor beside his chair.
"Tut! tut!" said Mr. Hornbeck reprovingly. "Don't be so clumsy, child.
Don't kick--lift your foot out."
Meg was crimson with embarrassment, and the class was snickering in
spite of Miss Mason's frown. Meg was glad to escape to her seat, and
the committeeman moved his hat further back before the next unlucky
reader came to the platform.
It did seem as though the noon bell would never ring, but at quarter
of twelve it did, and Meg and Bobby hurried home to lunch.
"What did you do all morning?" asked Meg of the twins, who as usual
were waiting for them at the gate.
"Played school," answered Dot.
That was the usual answer. The twins never tired of playing school,
and whatever Meg and Bobby told them one day they were pretty sure to
"pretend" the next. Always and always, too, they wished that they
might go to "regular" school.
That afternoon, as soon as she had given the first grade pupils seat
work to keep them busy, Miss Mason remembered her promise to show the
higher class her book. Tim Roon, who had been secretly relieved that
Mr. Hornbeck's visit had delayed the discovery of his trick, now began
to be uneasy. He flashed a warning look at Charlie Black as Miss Mason
fumbled with the papers that covered the book.
"I'll pass it down the aisle," said Miss Mason, drawing out the
book. "Now, Ellen, this first picture was drawn by an artist
named----"
Ellen Glover looked up startled. Miss Mason's voice had stopped so
suddenly when she opened her book that the effect was as if some one
had closed a door sharply while some one else was speaking.
"Her face was just as white," Meg afterward told her mother, "and then
it got red and her eyes snapped like--like anything!"
Indeed Miss Mason's eyes were snapping fire. Tim Roon for the first
time in his life was actually afraid of his teacher.
"Some vandal has destroyed this beautiful book," said Miss Mason,
speaking coldly and slowly. "It was almost priceless. I want each one
of you to come up to the desk and see how it has been ruined. First
grade, put away your work."
A sudden shiver of excitement went over the room. No one had ever seen
Miss Mason so angry before. And yet she was very quiet and still about
it. Aisle by aisle, she made them come up and look at the book,
insisting that each child take it in his hands and examine the spots
of ink. When the last pupil had returned to his seat she spoke again.
"This was done during recess," she said. "I did not leave the room
this noon. If any one in this class was in the room at recess this
morning, raise his hand."
Not one hand went up.
Miss Mason sighed impatiently.
"I see you are determined to make it hard for me," she commented.
"Very well, if we do no work this afternoon, we'll get to the bottom
of this."
Then beginning with the girls, she asked each one if she had been in
the room during recess time. As it happened not a girl had entered the
room between the bells. An interesting game of tag had taken the
attention of both grades in the girls' half of the school yard.
Then Miss Mason began with the boys. Each one denied that he had been
in the room till she reached Bobby.
"Yes, I was up here," he admitted.
"Why didn't you raise your hand?" snapped Miss Mason. "What were you
doing?"
"I came up to get my ball. I had left it in my desk," answered Bobby.
Unfortunately for him, he looked confused and cross, and Miss Mason
had some grounds for thinking he might know more than he cared to
tell.
"When were you up here?" she persisted.
Tim Roon listened eagerly for Bobby's reply. He was beginning to
wonder if he had been seen leaving the room.
"About three minutes before the bell rang," said Bobby defiantly.
"Don't speak to me like that," commanded Miss Mason. "Do you know how
the ink got on this book, Robert?"
Bobby was silent. Meg looked worried.
"Robert, do you hear me? I am asking you if you know how this book was
defaced?"
Bobby's blue eyes shot out a few sparks equal to those in Miss Mason's
eyes.
"You know I don't!" he retorted, not at all respectfully.
Bobby had been taught to love books at home and to handle them
carefully. He was hurt and astonished that any one should think he
would deliberately ruin a beautiful book, and he forgot that Miss
Mason couldn't know him as well as Father and Mother Blossom did. They
would never suspect him of harming a book.
"If this is your idea of getting even for the arithmetic lesson this
morning, all I can say is that you've chosen a very underhanded
method," declared Miss Mason, evidently determined to believe the
worst.
"I never touched the book," insisted Bobby hotly.