This Can't Be Happening at Macdonald Hall by Gordon Korman Page A

there.”
    They entered the Faculty Building and found the outer office deserted.
    â€œWhat do we do now?” asked Boots.
    Bruno shrugged and knocked as lightly as he could on the Headmaster’s door. “Maybe no one’s here,” he whispered.
    â€œCome in,” said a voice they recognized only too well.
    Bruno and Boots walked into the office like two prisoners about to face a firing squad. Mr. Sturgeon, Francisco Diaz, and a small, dark gentleman were waiting for them.
    Mr. Sturgeon spoke first. “Sir, here are Bruno Walton and Melvin O’Neal, the two boys who rescued Francisco from the balloon. Boys, this is Ambassador Diaz.”
    The small man walked over to Bruno and Boots. He bowed slightly, then shook hands with both of them. “I am Francisco’s father,” he began. “I find it difficult to express my gratitude to you. You are certainly two very brave and resourceful young men.”
    Boots blushed to the roots of his blond hair. Bruno’s face broke into a grin.
    â€œIf it had not been for you,” Mr. Diaz went on, “my son might very well have been lost: I owe you his life. In my country we bestow medals upon people who display such unselfish courage.”
    A strangled sound erupted from Bruno. He covered it up with a bout of severe coughing. Boots felt he had to say something — Bruno was certainly in no condition to speak. “We’re very grateful, sir,” he finally managed. “Thank you very much.”
    â€œI have arranged an outdoor assembly for this afternoon,” said Mr. Sturgeon, staring at the ceiling. He took a deep breath and continued. “And I understand the Royal Canadian Mounted Police have some medals to present as well.”
    At last Bruno found his voice. “Did you — uh — mention Elmer Drimsdale, sir?” He caught Mr. Sturgeon’s eye. Elmer was likely to suffer ridicule for a long time because of his UFO scare. “Elmer spotted the balloon with his telescope and started the — uh — alert,” he explained to Mr. Diaz.
    Mr. Sturgeon’s steely grey eyes searched Bruno’s earnest dark ones. The Headmaster understood. “I shall certainly mention Elmer Drimsdale,” he said slowly.
    â€œBy all means! There will be a medal for him too,” said Mr. Diaz. “I wish we could have an official ceremony, but I left Ottawa in such a hurry that I neglected to bring our flag.”
    â€œThat is unfortunate,” said Mr. Sturgeon. “I am afraid Macdonald Hall does not possess a Portuguese flag.”
    â€œExcuse me?” said the ambassador questioningly. “We are not Portuguese.”
    â€œOh …” said Mr. Sturgeon in embarrassment. “When I heard Francisco speaking Portuguese, I naturally assumed — that is — er — what
is
your country, sir?”
    The ambassador drew himself up to his full height and announced proudly, “I have the honour to represent the government of Malbonia.”
    Twin gasps from Bruno and Boots punctuated the sudden silence. Mr. Sturgeon cleared his throat carefully. “In that case, Mr. Diaz, I am pleased to be able to tell you that, by a fortunate coincidence, I just happen to have the flag of Malbonia right here in my safe.”
    â€œBut this is splendid!” exclaimed the ambassador. “Until two o’clock, then.”
    * * *
    Mr. and Mrs. Sturgeon entertained the ambassador and Francisco at lunch. While the adults were finishing their coffee in the living room, Francisco glanced over the morning’s
Globe and Mail
. The politely hushed conversation was suddenly interrupted by a peal of laughter from the boy.
    â€œWhat is it, Francisco?” asked Mr. Diaz.
    Francisco could hardly speak. “Read this, sir,” he said, handing the paper to Mr. Sturgeon.
    The Headmaster adjusted his glasses and read the article aloud:
“BANK ROBBERS SNAGGED BY