Class Is Not Dismissed! Read Free Page A

cell.
    “What is that?” Lulu asked. “Not that I’m afraid, because I totally ride in elevators now, not that it’s even an elevator.
     So, um, what exactly is that, Schmidty?”
    “This is the latest addition to School of Fear: the Summerstone Vertical Tram,” Schmidty explained while waking Macaroni from
     his heat-induced slumber.
    “That is a pretty nice-looking
SVT,
” Theo said in a knowledgeable manner.
    “SV what?” Lulu asked with raised eyebrows.
    “I made an executive decision—”
    “But you’re not an executive—”
    “Fine, I made a
nonexecutive
decision to create an acronym. And let me tell you, acronyms are all the rage in NYC.”
    “Children, before you enter the SVT, as Mister Theo has coined it, Mac needs to perform a sniff-down for electronics, for,
     as you remember, Mrs. Wellington frowns upon cell phones, PDAs, BlackBerries, computers, and all other technological means
     of communication. And please don’t think it’s that I don’t trust you. It’s simply that Madame doesn’t trust you. As of this
     morning she could barely remember if she liked you.”
    And with that, the drooling bulldog with large saggy eyes waddled up to the students’ bags. Macaroni then sat down, his rear
     paws neatly positioned between his front paws, and began snorting. You see a bulldog simply cannot smell without snorting;
     it is an absolute impossibility. It’s far more likely for a bulldog to speak English than to smell without snorting. In betweenvociferous sniffs, Macaroni also employed his tongue, licking not only the bags but the children’s legs. And when he was all
     finished, Macaroni gave Schmidty a knowing glance before collapsing onto the cobblestones, utterly exhausted from exerting
     so much energy.
    “I certainly don’t mean to be cheeky, Theo, but I am flabbergasted that you didn’t try to sneak in a mobile,” Madeleine said
     honestly.
    “What can I tell you, Maddie? You’re looking at a changed
man.
”
    “Oh, brother,” Lulu said with her traditional roll of the eyes. “He thinks he’s a
man
now.”
    As Theo furrowed his brow with annoyance, Schmidty pulled a large key ring from the pocket of his black shorts and began searching
     for the correct key.
    “Why even bother locking this? You worried about joyriders?” Garrison asked while tossing his blond hair out of his face.
    “I was planning to let Madame explain, but as she rarely makes any sense, I suppose I ought to handle the situation,” Schmidty
     said before clearing his throat. “Summerstone has been the target of a very persistent burglar over the past several months.
     I believe we are atrobbery number seven, or is it eight? The number could actually be much higher, for we often can’t tell things are missing
     for days,” Schmidty said as he led the children and Macaroni onto the tram and closed the door.
    “Have you spoken to the sheriff?” Madeleine inquired as the tram began to move up the mountain.
    “We most definitely have spoken with the sheriff, but he’s as perplexed as we are.”
    “Is it just me, or is this the slowest ride in the history of rides?” Lulu asked with a tense smile as the tram continued
     to rattle and bump up the mountain.
    “So there haven’t been any other burglaries in town, Schmidty?” Madeleine pressed on.
    “Well, not really…”
    “What does
not really
mean?”
    “Well, there was a break-in at the Mancini Bakery, but all the burglar took were cupcakes, so the sheriff is pretty sure that
     young Jimmy Fernwood is behind it. His mother’s had him on a rather strict no-sugar diet—”
    “Always blaming the fat kids,” Theo said critically. “Talk about racial profiling.”
    “Theo, I regret to inform you, but fat children do not constitute a race,” Madeleine explained.
    “Man, it’s really getting stuffy in here. It’s hard to breathe,” Lulu said with a stressed expression.
    “Lulu, we’re in fresh air,” Garrison responded.
    “Does anyone