Ned Wilding's Disappearance Part 9

Before Bart could get away Ned had torn the false beard from his chum's face. Then, holding out what seemed to be a basket-ball, Ned suddenly raised it high in the air and brought it down on Bart's head. It broke with a loud sound, for it was paper blown up, and out flew a shower of confetti, which covered Bart's red flannel uniform with tiny sc.r.a.ps of colored paper. Ned had brought it to use in playing a joke on someone else, but, at the last minute, discovering the ident.i.ty of St. Nicholas, he had resolved on a different plan.

CHAPTER X

WRECK OF THE TOWER

A loud shout of laughter went up at the surprised look on Bart's face.

He did not know what to say, and he shook his head to get rid of the confetti that clung even to his eyebrows. He had hoped to get away undiscovered but his chums had been too smart for him. He opened his mouth to speak, and the hickory nut he had placed in it to make his voice sound deep, dropped out and rolled on the floor. At this there was more laughter.

"Very well done, Bart," observed Princ.i.p.al McCloud. "I think school is dismissed," he added, as he and the other teachers joined in the laughter.

"Come again, Bart," said Ned, as he and the other boys crowded about the impersonator of Santa Claus.

"Off with his uniform!" one of the boys called, and, before Bart could defend himself, he was being pulled this way and that, until the red suit he had gone to such trouble to make was a thing of shreds and tatters.

"It's just like poor King Lear, being all torn apart by the winds,"

exclaimed Jennie Smith, though some of her companions could not quite see the simile. "Oh, I would love to recite something," she went on.

"Go ahead," said Mary Tedwell. "I guess no one will hear you," and she laughed rather maliciously.

"Mean old thing!" exclaimed Jennie. "She's mad because she can't recite poetry."

Now Bart was entirely stripped of his Santa Claus suit, and the boys and girls, securing pieces of it, formed a ring about the lad and marched around singing any tune that came into their heads. The teachers had retired, leaving the pupils to finish in their own fas.h.i.+on the celebration attendant upon closing of school for the holidays as they knew there would be little trouble.

But all things must have an end and the merry frolic of the boys and girls was gradually brought to a close. Those who had received the odd presents from Bart were made to exhibit them, and many were the jibes and quips that accompanied the display.

On all sides and from scores of girls and boys came the greeting, "Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year," for school would not a.s.semble again until the second week in January.

One by one the pupils left for home. The big auditorium became quieter and soon only the four chums, Alice and Jennie, and a few of their friends remained.

"Come on," said Bart. "I'll stand treat for hot chocolate at Fanton's Drug Emporium."

The boys and girls were a little later on their way to the "Emporium" as the sign in the window declared it to be.

"Coming to the entertainment Friday night?" asked Jennie of Fenn, when they were sipping the hot beverage.

"What entertainment?"

"The Y. M. C. A. is going to give one in the school auditorium. Moving pictures and some music. Alice and I are going."

"Sure I'm coming," Stumpy replied, though it was the first he had heard of it. But Stumpy wasn't going to be left out if there were girls in it.

"Where you going?" asked Bart, overhearing the talk.

"Entertainment--school hall--Y. M. C. A.--Mov--ing pict--ures."

The breaks Fenn made, in imparting the information, were caused by the sips of chocolate he took between his words.

"We'll all go," decided Bart. "We'll be over our Christmas dinners by then."

Finis.h.i.+ng their chocolate the boys and girls walked together down the street on their way home. As they separated they wished each other the joys of the season.

Christmas, which came next day, was celebrated in Darewell much as it is celebrated every where in Christian lands. There was happiness in the homes of the four chums, not only at the gifts which they received, but also over those they gave. Each one remembered Mrs. Perry and her two girls, and, it is safe to say, it was the best Christmas the widow's family had experienced since trouble came.

"If only Willie was home now," Mrs. Perry said to Jane as they looked at the gifts which had come so unexpectedly to them, "we would be very happy."

"Perhaps he will be with us next Christmas," Jane remarked, trying to comfort her mother. "Let us hope so anyhow. We are much more happy than we were the day before Thanksgiving when everything seemed so black."

"Yes, thanks to those good boys," the widow replied. "Well, we will trust in Providence. Perhaps Willie may come back to us."

The day of the Y. M. C. A. entertainment proved to be one of the coldest of the winter. It dawned with a dull leaden sky, filled with lowering clouds, and there was a nip to the air that made thick wraps a necessity. The wind, which had been blowing strongly in the morning, increased in violence as the day advanced until by evening it was blowing half a gale.

But the boys and girls who crowded into the school auditorium did not mind this. It only made their cheeks redder, and though the wind did toss and tumble the hair of the girls it only caused them to look all the prettier, at least so Fenn thought, and he ought to know.

"B-r-r-r! It's a regular hurricane!" exclaimed Bart as he and Alice entered the hall, where they found a number of their friends. The entertainment had not yet begun.

"It must be getting colder," observed Ned.

"What makes you think so?" asked Bart.

"Your nose is as red as a beet."

"It feels half frozen," Bart answered. "That comes of having such a big one. But it's a sign of greatness you know."

"If we let you tell it," interposed Frank.

The hall soon filled up and the entertainment was started. There was vocal and instrumental music and recitations. Jennie Smith rendered "Horatius at the Bridge" with all the energy she was capable of, and the four chums applauded vigorously.

The wind was increasing in violence, and it rattled the windows so that at times it interfered with the singing. The janitor went about tightening the fastenings.

"It's going to be a bad storm," Bart heard the man murmur as he adjusted the catches. "I hope it doesn't blow some of the chimneys down. One or two of 'em need pointing up, for the mortar's most out of 'em."

"Is there any danger?" asked Bart in a whisper.

"No, I hope not. The old tower--" but what the janitor would have said about the tower Bart did not hear, for the man had pa.s.sed on and there came the chorus of a song which drowned his words.

But the janitor's prophecy seemed likely to be true. The noise of the wind could be heard more plainly now. The windows did not rattle so much after being attended to, but the gale fairly made the school building vibrate. The old tower the janitor spoke of was a tall, square affair, at one corner of the building. It was for ornamental purposes only, though it contained a large clock, and there was a winding stair in it that gave access to the mechanism.

A white screen was adjusted and moving pictures thrown upon it. The first series was that of battles.h.i.+ps in practice evolutions and as the smoke rolled from the muzzles of the big guns a man behind the scenes beat a ba.s.s drum, to simulate the distant roar of the ordnance.

The audience watched one great s.h.i.+p as it came into view on the screen.

A broadside was fired, and, as the white smoke rolled out there came a tremendous concussion that shook the entire school.

"He must have busted the drum that time," thought Bart.

An instant later there came a terrifying crash so near at hand that everyone knew it was not the sound of the drum, nor their excited imagination. Nor was it the noise of the wind.