Treasure Fever! (5 page)

I was just about to put up my hand when David's hand shot up into the air first.

I couldn't believe it.

All that work!

All those blobs!

All for nothing!

‘Yes?' said Mr Brainfright. ‘Do you know the answer?'

‘Not yet, sir,' said David. ‘May I have permission to go to the bathroom?'

‘Very well,' said Mr Brainfright.

The lollipop could still be mine!

But just then Jenny's hand shot into the air.

‘I have the answer!' she said.

‘Go ahead,' said Mr Brainfright.

‘My mum always says there is no problem that can't be solved by people just sitting down and talking it over,' said Jenny. ‘So if the man sits them
all down and explains the situation and asks the goat not to eat the cabbage and asks the wolf not to eat the goat, then he can just take them all across in any order he wants.' Jenny smiled sweetly at Mr Brainfright. ‘Do I get the lollipop?'

‘No, I'm afraid not,' said Mr Brainfright.

‘Why not?' said Jenny.

‘Because your solution doesn't work,' said Mr Brainfright. ‘The goat and the wolf can't talk.'

‘But the cabbage can!' said Fiona.

‘Yes,' said Mr Brainfright, ‘that's because it's a
talking
cabbage.'

‘But if cabbages can talk, why can't wolves and goats?' said Fiona.

‘Some wolves and goats can talk,' said Mr Brainfright. ‘But not these ones.'

‘Oh, this is ridiculous!' said Fiona crossly.

‘Ridiculous, maybe,' said Mr Brainfright. ‘But not impossible. Does anybody else have a solution?'

I put up my hand.

Clive leaned forward. ‘If you're thinking of telling on me, then think again!' he hissed. ‘I'll tell Mr Brainfright I didn't do it!'

I just smiled.

Mr Brainfright looked at me. ‘Do you have a solution for us?'

‘Yes,' I said. ‘What if the man took the goat
across first, and then went back for the cabbage and took that across and left the cabbage there, but then took the goat back and left it there while he took the wolf across, and left the wolf with the cabbage while he went back to get the goat?'

Mr Brainfright beamed. ‘Perfect!' he said. ‘What's your name, young man?'

‘Henry,' I said. ‘Henry McThrottle.'

‘Well, Henry McThrottle,' said Mr Brainfright, ‘you just earned yourself a lollipop. Come up to the front.'

‘Well done, Henry!' said Jenny, as I got up.

I walked to Mr Brainfright's desk. Mr Brainfright opened a battered crimson briefcase, produced a large red lollipop, and put it into my hand.

As I walked back to my desk, I made a point of waving my lollipop at Clive. ‘Thanks for the blobs,' I whispered. ‘I couldn't have solved the problem without them.'

Clive just stared at me. He wasn't laughing anymore.

As I sat down, Fiona put up her hand. ‘Will we be tested on this, sir?' she said.

Before Mr Brainfright could answer Fiona, the lunch bell rang and everybody stood up and headed outside.

It was warm and sunny out in the yard.

I was feeling good. Not only did we have a very interesting new teacher, but I had a lollipop to eat for lunch. That beat a cheese sandwich any day.

I was halfway across the yard, though, when two things happened.

The first was that a dark grey cloud passed in front of the sun.

The second was that Fred and Clive Durkin appeared in front of me.

‘Hand over the lollipop, McThrottle,' said Fred, his hand outstretched.

‘But it's
mine
,' I said.

‘That's not what my brother tells me,' said Fred.
‘He said you won the lollipop using spitballs that he made.'

‘Yes,' I said, ‘that's true, but I didn't ask him to fire spitballs at me.'

‘Nevertheless you used
his
spitballs, so hand over the lollipop,' said Fred.

‘No,' I said. I started walking away.

But before I could get very far, I felt a big hand on my shoulder. It spun me around. Fred reached out and snatched the lollipop from me.

‘Hey!' I said, lunging forward to grab my lollipop.

As I did, Clive stuck his leg out in front of me.

Instead of lunging forward, I tripped forward and collapsed on top of Fred. Not very pleasant for me, but even less pleasant for him.

My fingers were getting closer and closer to the lollipop. And then I felt my entire body being lifted up in the air.

‘McThrottle!' said an angry voice. ‘What is the meaning of this?'

My feet touched the ground. I was standing in front of Mrs Cross, who was in an even crosser mood than usual. If there was one thing that made her crosser than anything else, it was catching students fighting in the yard while she was on yard duty.

‘Well?' she said, staring at me. ‘Why are you attacking poor Fred?'

I looked at Fred lying on the ground, writhing around as if he was in agony. What an actor! If only the teachers knew what he was
really
like. He was completely different when they were around.

‘He's a thief!' I said.

‘He stole my lollipop!' ‘No, I never,' said Fred, who had such a pained look on his face that you would have sworn he was speaking with his dying breath. ‘It was my lollipop!'

‘He's right,' said Clive. ‘It was definitely his lollipop.'

Mrs Cross shook her head. ‘Henry, this is not the Northwest Southeast Central School way! It makes me very cross when Northwest Southeast Central School students steal each other's food and fight like animals in the yard! This is completely unacceptable!'

‘But I didn't do anything!' I said.

‘You didn't do anything?' she said. ‘So are you telling me that there's something wrong with my eyes? Are you telling me that I didn't just see you attacking Fred Durkin?'

‘He attacked me first,' I said. ‘He attacked me and stole my lollipop!'

‘That's quite enough,' said Mrs Cross. ‘Go and wait outside Principal Greenbeard's office. I'll let him know to expect you. Clive, help me get Fred
to the sick bay. We'll be lucky if he doesn't need an ambulance after such a brutal attack!'

‘But . . .' I said, breathless with the injustice of it all, ‘. . . but . . .'

‘Not another word!' said Mrs Cross. ‘Go straight to Principal Greenbeard's office!'

I shook my head and trudged off towards the admin building. I walked as slowly as I could. Of course, if I'd known what I was about to find out in Principal Greenbeard's office, I would have run to get there.

I walked slowly to the main office and took a deep breath, trying to make myself feel brave, before entering the reception area. I wasn't scared of the principal—he was harmless enough—but I was scared of the receptionist, Mrs Rosethorn. As I took a seat on the bench, I could feel her disapproving glare burning into me.

Mrs Rosethorn was terrifying.

And she didn't like time wasters. And just in case you forgot, there was a sign pasted on the glass that said
NO TIME WASTERS
.

If you went up to the office window you had to state your business quickly and clearly. The difficulty was that when Mrs Rosethorn looked at you, her glare was so intense that you found yourself stunned and unable to remember why you were there.

‘Yes?' said Mrs Rosethorn now, sliding open the
window and glaring at me. Her eyes were like twin laser beams shooting into my brain and erasing all my thoughts.

I, of course, immediately forgot why I was there.

‘Um . . .' I stammered, ‘M-M-Mrs Cross . . .'

‘Mrs Cross?' said Mrs Rosethorn. ‘What about Mrs Cross? Hurry up, boy! No time wasting! Spit it out! I haven't got all day, you know!'

‘I know,' I said. ‘I-I'm very sorry, Mrs Rosethorn . . . I-I . . .'

‘Oh for goodness' sake!' said Mrs Rosethorn. ‘Let me guess—Mrs Cross has caught you up to no good in the yard and sent you to see Principal Greenbeard. Is that it?'

I nodded.

‘I'll let him know you're here,' she said, glaring at me. ‘Meanwhile, sit down on the bench and stay out of trouble!'

Mrs Rosethorn picked up the telephone, keeping her eyes on me the whole time. I shrank back into the bench. ‘He'll see you now,' she said, hanging up the telephone. ‘Look smart!'

I got up, tucked in my shirt, and knocked on the door.

‘Come aboard!' a voice cried.

I entered, stood to attention and saluted.

Principal Greenbeard was sitting at his desk with a small tube of glue in his hand. In front of him was a model of a Spanish galleon. I knew this because Principal Greenbeard had taught us a whole unit of work on different types of ships. I was soon to wish that I'd paid more attention.

‘At ease, sailor,' said Principal Greenbeard. ‘Mrs Cross called from the sick bay and told me to expect you. Have a seat.'

I took a seat in front of his desk and looked around the office. The walls were covered with framed paintings of ships. There was a mariner's signal flag mounted above the window behind Principal Greenbeard. And in a glass-fronted cabinet there was a pair of antique pistols in a velvet-lined case.

‘Do you know what this is, Henry?' Principal
Greenbeard asked as he glued a tiny figure to the ship's crow's nest.

‘A pirate ship?' I said.

‘Yes,' said Principal Greenbeard. ‘But not just any pirate ship. Do you know
which
pirate ship?'

I studied the model. It had three masts and many sails. At the top of the middle mast was a small black flag with a white skull and crossbones on it.

‘No, sir,' I said. ‘All pirate ships look the same to me.'

Principal Greenbeard raised his bushy black eyebrows. ‘Well, they're not!' he said. ‘This is Blackbeard's ship. The
Queen Anne's Revenge
! You've heard of Blackbeard the pirate, I assume?'

‘Yes, sir,' I said.

‘Do you know what Blackbeard would do to members of his crew who failed to follow orders?'

‘No, sir.'

‘Well let me tell you,' he said. ‘Blackbeard would blindfold them, tie their hands behind their back, and then make them walk out onto a plank attached to the side of the ship, poking them all the while in the backside with the sharp end of a cutlass. Then, when they reached the end of the plank, they'd fall off into the sea and be eaten by hungry sharks! What do you think of that, Henry?'

I shook my head. ‘I don't think it sounds too good, sir.'

‘Not too good at all!' said Principal Greenbeard, carefully pushing his model aside so that he could lean forward on his desk and fix me with a terrifying stare. ‘So if you were a crew member on Blackbeard's ship, it would be best to keep your nose clean and stay out of trouble. Wouldn't it, Henry?'