Wayside School Is Falling Down (Wayside School 2)

“Have a seat,” said Mr. Kidswatter. “I just want to ask you a few questions.”

“Sure thing,” said Eric Bacon. He sat in the little chair. He leaned back with his hands behind his head and his feet up on Mr. Kidswatter’s desk.

He looked at himself in Mr. Kidswatter’s mirrored glasses, took a comb out of his back pocket, and combed his hair. His hair was very neat and trim. He had gotten it cut yesterday, at 12:15, at Charley’s Barber Shop.

Mr. Kidswatter cracked his knuckles. “When’s the last time you sharpened your pencil?” he asked.

“November eleventh,” Eric Bacon answered right away. “It was three minutes before five o’clock in the afternoon. I remember because my watch stopped.”

“Where were you yesterday at twelve-fifteen?”

“I was in the garden, having tea.”

“Did Maurecia step on somebody’s pencil this morning?” asked Mr. Kidswatter.

“Yes.”

“Whose?”

“She stepped on everybody’s pencil,” said Eric Bacon.

“Are you left-handed or right-footed?” demanded Mr. Kidswatter.

“I write with my left foot, and I kick with my right hand,” replied Eric Bacon.

Mr. Kidswatter scowled. “Have you ever gotten your hair cut at Charley’s Barber Shop?”

“No, I never get my hair cut,” said Eric Bacon. “I’m bald. This is a wig.”

Mr. Kidswatter took off his glasses and glared at him. “Do the words ‘Mugworm Griblick’ mean anything to you?”

Eric Bacon shook his head. “I can look it up in the dictionary if you want.”

Mr. Kidswatter shook his head. “I tried that,” he said. “It’s not there.” He rubbed his chin. “Okay, boys, you can come out now.”

Eric Ovens and Eric Fry crawled out from under the desk.

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Mr. Kidswatter looked at each Eric. “One of you is lying,” he said. “I don’t know who it is, but I’ll find out. And when I do, whoever it is will be very sorry. Now I’ll give you one last chance to come clean.”

Eric Fry trembled.

Eric Ovens shivered.

“C’mon, let’s blow this Popsicle stand,” said Eric Bacon. He walked out of the room. The other two Erics followed.

Mr. Kidswatter rubbed the back of his neck. He looked at the white card on top of his desk. On one side it said:

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CHARLEY’S BARBER SHOP

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Under that, in blue ink, it said: