“There! I hear the court martial summons!” exclaimed Edna. “Tavia! You did it.”
The footfall in the hall this time was decided and not clattery. It betokened the coming of a teacher.
A tap at the door came next. Dorothy scrambled over the excited girls, and finally reached the portal.
“The principal would like to have the young ladies from this room report in the office at once,” said the strident voice of Miss Higley, the English teacher. “She is very much annoyed at the misconduct that appeared to come from Room Nineteen.”
“Yes,” faltered Dorothy, for no one else seemed to know how to find her tongue. “There was—an accident. The girls will go to the office.”
After the teacher left the girls gave full vent to their choking sensations. Tavia rolled off the couch, Edna covered her own head in Dorothy’s best sofa cushion, Cologne drank a glass of water that Tavia intended to drink, and altogether things were brisk in Number Nineteen.
“We might as well have it over with,” Edna said, patting the sofa cushion into shape. “I’ll confess to the finding of the plaguey thing.”
“Come on then,” ordered Dorothy, and the others meekly followed her into the hall.
They were but one flight up, and as they looked over the banister they saw below Miss Mingle, Mrs. Pangborn and several others.
“Oh!” gasped Tavia, “they are sprouting pin feathers!”