Ned Wilding's Disappearance; or, The Darewell Chums in the City Read online

  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 theconfetti that clung even to his eyebrows. He had hoped to get awayundiscovered but his chums had been too smart for him. He opened hismouth to speak, and the hickory nut he had placed in it to make hisvoice sound deep, dropped out and rolled on the floor. At this there wasmore laughter.

  "Very well done, Bart," observed Principal McCloud. "I think school isdismissed," he added, as he and the other teachers joined in thelaughter.

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

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

  "It's just like poor King Lear, being all torn apart by the winds,"exclaimed Jennie Smith, though some of her companions could not quitesee 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 shelaughed rather maliciously.

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

  Now Bart was entirely stripped of his Santa Claus suit, and the boys andgirls, securing pieces of it, formed a ring about the lad and marchedaround singing any tune that came into their heads. The teachers hadretired, leaving the pupils to finish in their own fashion thecelebration attendant upon closing of school for the holidays as theyknew there would be little trouble.

  But all things must have an end and the merry frolic of the boys andgirls was gradually brought to a close. Those who had received the oddpresents from Bart were made to exhibit them, and many were the jibesand 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 assembleagain until the second week in January.

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

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

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

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

  "What entertainment?"

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

  "Sure I'm coming," Stumpy replied, though it was the first he had heardof 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 thesips of chocolate he took between his words.

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

  Finishing their chocolate the boys and girls walked together down thestreet on their way home. As they separated they wished each other thejoys of the season.

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

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

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

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

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

  But the boys and girls who crowded into the school auditorium did notmind this. It only made their cheeks redder, and though the wind didtoss and tumble the hair of the girls it only caused them to look allthe 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 Aliceentered the hall, where they found a number of their friends. Theentertainment 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 bigone. 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 wasvocal and instrumental music and recitations. Jennie Smith rendered"Horatius at the Bridge" with all the energy she was capable of, and thefour chums applauded vigorously.

  The wind was increasing in violence, and it rattled the windows so thatat times it interfered with the singing. The janitor went abouttightening the fastenings.

  "It's going to be a bad storm," Bart heard the man murmur as he adjustedthe catches. "I hope it doesn't blow some of the chimneys down. One ortwo 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 saidabout the tower Bart did not hear, for the man had passed on and therecame the chorus of a song which drowned his words.

  But the janitor's prophecy seemed likely to be true. The noise of thewind could be heard more plainly now. The windows did not rattle so muchafter being attended to, but the gale fairly made the school buildingvibrate. 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 itthat gave access to the mechanism.

  A white screen was adjusted and moving pictures thrown upon it. Thefirst series was that of battleships in practice evolutions and as thesmoke rolled from the muzzles of the big guns a man behind the scenesbeat a bass drum, to simulate the distant roar of the ordnance.

  The audience watched one great ship as it came into view on the screen.A broadside was fired, and, as the white smoke rolled out there came atremendous 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 thateveryone knew it was not the sound of the drum, nor their excitedimagination. Nor was it the noise of the wind.

  Then, down through one corner of the auditorium, fortunately in a placewhere no one was seated, crashing through the ceiling, came a mass ofbrick and mortar.

  Before the echoes of that had died away there sounded another noise; adeep, dull sound, and the school again vibrated with the shock. Then theauditorium was in darkness, and through it came the voice of the janitorshouting:

  "The tower has been wrecked and has fallen!"