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

to get blamed for something I don’t even know about?”
    â€œInto each life some rain must fall,” said Bruno philosophically. “Whatever you sow, you must reap.”
    * * *
    The messenger had continued to Dormitory 1. Boots took the note from him and woke George. “Note for you, George. From Mr. Sturgeon’s office.”
    George yawned sleepily. “Oh, that must be about my allowance from Papa.” He accented the second syllable. “He always sends it by special messenger. I can hardly wait to see if I got the raise I asked for.”
    Boots smiled. “Maybe you’ll get even more than you asked for,” he said.
    When George reached the office the door was open; so he knocked, then went right in. As he entered the room, he was surprised to see Elmer Drimsdale seated meekly on the bench. George walked towards the visitor’s chair, but Mr. Sturgeon motioned to him to sit beside Elmer. George was puzzled. Mr. Sturgeon opened his top desk drawer and pulled out a plastic bag. From it he took out one rodent skull, one Toronto Horticultural Society membership card and a labelled test tube. He made a second pile with a money clip, a cell phone and a pen and pencil set, all clearly monogrammed.
    â€œI believe these belong to you,” the Headmaster said grimly.
    â€œY-yes sir,” George stammered, now thoroughly confused. Elmer was speechless.
    â€œThese items were gathered at Miss Scrimmage’s last night after a disgraceful episode during which some articles of — er — underwear were stolen.” George began to sweat. “The discovery of these items,” Mr. Sturgeon continued, “has led everyone to conclude that you two were the raiders. Unfortunately I have no alternative but to agree.” He smiled grimly. “You were even identified by name by several of the young ladies.”
    George began to sweat even more. He reached for his handkerchief to wipe his forehead — and pulled out a pair of pink panties. “Yipes!” he cried.
    â€œThat will do,” said Mr. Sturgeon. “I rather think that that strange substitute for a pocket handkerchief completes the case against you.”
    â€œBut, sir,” pleaded George, “I have no idea how that got into my pocket!”
    Mr. Sturgeon’s smile changed. “Then I imagine your thinking is a little slow, Wexford-Smyth. I’m quite certain that
I
know how it got there.”
    â€œI found some things like that under my pillow,” Elmer gasped.
    â€œI’m not surprised to hear that,” said Mr. Sturgeon. “It seems that you two boys have been very nicely framed.”
    For the first time since he had received the summons Elmer felt a surge of hope. He still had very little idea of what he had been framed
for
, but so long as he wasn’t going to be punished, his world looked as if it would keep on turning.
    â€œMelvin!” George exclaimed. “It was Melvin, wasn’t it, sir? And that uncouth friend of his, Bruno Walton?”
    â€œBruno,” echoed Elmer sadly. “I’ve had enough of Bruno to last me a lifetime!”
    â€œIs Walton harassing you?” asked Mr. Sturgeon.
    Elmer shook his head. “Oh no, sir. It’s just that he’s so — unrestrained. And I’m so — I guess I seem dull to him, sir. I don’t think he likes me.”
    â€œMelvin is certainly harassing me, sir,” George broke in. “He should be punished, if you ask me.”
    â€œI fail to recall asking you,” said Mr. Sturgeon, giving George his infamous grey look. Then he leaned back in his chair. “Boys, I would like to try an experiment. This is what I want you to do.”
    * * *
    Elmer Drimsdale, head down and feet dragging, returned to his room and flopped down on his bed.
    â€œWhat’s the matter, Elm?” asked Bruno, bursting with curiosity. “Aren’t you going to crack the old