“Well! I don’t see where it’s any of your funeral,” growled Pocock. “You make me tired!”
But the result of Rufe’s confession and Pocock’s admission changed the latter’s place of abode rather suddenly. Both Chet and Billson decided that the truth about the gymnasium raids should be made known at once, and the Board of Education took the matter up promptly. Pocock found himself in the infirmary of the county prison, with the chance of serving three months at hard labor when the prison doctors pronounced him able to work.
His attempt to work Jackway out of the job of watchman, so that he could be appointed to the position, had acted like a boomerang. Hebron Pocock was most thoroughly punished.
And Chet Belding hurried to spread the tidings of the discovery among the girls of Central High, too. He got hold of Laura before the spread the basketball teams were to enjoy, and she told Principal Sharp, who was present. When he made his usual speech of welcome, he tacked onto it a paragraph regarding the gymnasium mystery.
“Which is,” said Mr. Sharp, “a mystery no longer. As I said when first the matter was brought to my attention, no pupil of Central High, either male or female, could be guilty of such an abominable crime. Such a malicious piece of mischief had to be originated in a perverted mind; and we have no such minds at Central High.”
“But it has furnished excitement enough for us all to last for the rest of the winter,” said Laura, later, to her immediate friends. “I’m so glad for Hester! But we’ve all been stirred up enough about it, I guess. No more excitement this term, girls!”
Whether Laura’s wish came true, or not, the reader will be able to find out for herself in the perusal of the next volume of this series, entitled “The Girls of Central High on the Stage; Or, The Play That Took the Prize.”
None of them looked forward to a really “tame” winter, however. There would be other basketball games, and plenty of out-of-door sports as well. As Bobby Hargrew said:
“It’s all right to say that school takes up all our time; but it’s the fun we get out of school that makes Latin, and French, and mathematics, and—and—Gee Gee bearable! My! suppose we didn’t have athletics at all?”
“That would certainly be a state of existence perfectly unbearable—for you, Bobby,” Nellie Agnew said, gravely. “You’d burst, wouldn’t you?”