Treasure Fever! (17 page)

We all stared at it.

The skull's grin seemed to be even wider than before, almost as if it was enjoying our desperate attempts to crack the lock.

Time was running out.

Unless we could open the chest we were going to lose the best teacher we'd ever had!

Then Jenny smiled. ‘I've got it!' she said, removing her smiley badge, and getting down on
her hands and knees. She began poking around in the lock with the pin of her badge.

‘Are you trying to pick the lock?' I said.

‘No,' she said, ‘I'm cleaning it. The reason the lock won't open is that it's clogged with dirt.' She picked and poked and prodded. ‘That's got it! Try the key now, Henry.'

I pushed the key in . . .

and turned . . .

and . . .

the lock clicked.

The chest was open!

But before I could lift the lid, Newton blew his whistle again.

‘Newton!' I said. ‘Stop blowing that stupid whistle! I already told you, there's no curse!'

But it wasn't the curse Newton was trying to warn me about.

It was worse.

Two hands reached down from above and picked up the treasure chest.

‘I'll take that, thanks very much,' said a familiar voice.

I looked up.

It was Fred.

‘That treasure is ours,' I said. ‘We found it.'

‘And I'm most appreciative,' said Fred. ‘But I shouldn't have to remind you that I am the rightful owner of the chest and its contents. We made a deal, remember?'

‘That was just for the map,' I said. ‘The deal was that I gave you the map and you wouldn't squeeze my neck so that my head popped like a pimple. There was nothing about the treasure in that deal.'

‘Yeah, but you double-crossed me,' said Fred, hugging the chest tightly. ‘You gave me a fake map, so the deal's off and the treasure is mine.'

‘That doesn't make any sense at all,' said Fiona. ‘It's neither fair nor reasonable! And what are you doing here, anyway? Shouldn't you be in class?'

‘Mrs Cross went to Greenbeard's office,' said Fred. ‘And she left me in charge. I gave myself permission to come out here.'

‘But that means no one's in charge,' said Fiona. ‘If you ask me, that's very irresponsible behaviour.'

‘The thing is,' said Fred, stepping up eyeball to eyeball with Fiona, ‘nobody is asking you, are they? How about you mind your own business or I squeeze
your
neck until
your
head pops? Does that sound fair and reasonable?'

‘Sounds perfectly fair and reasonable to me,' said Fiona, backing away.

‘Not to me, it doesn't,' said Gretel. ‘Give us the treasure, Durkin . . . or you'll regret it!'

‘No,' said Fred coolly, ‘
You'll
be the one who regrets it. Need I remind you that you already hurt your hand on the chest? I saw you from my classroom. You won't be punching anybody for quite some time.'

‘Darn!' said Gretel, rubbing her sore hand.

‘Good one, Fred,' said Clive.

‘All right, then,' said Fred. ‘Now that we've got that all sorted out, let's see exactly what my treasure is.'

Despite our fear and dislike of Fred, the whole class couldn't resist crowding in around him.

Fred took a deep breath and lifted up the lid.

Fred threw the chest onto the ground. ‘This isn't treasure!' he cried. ‘It's just a bunch of worthless junk! You're a moron, McThrottle!'

‘It's not my fault!' I said. ‘I didn't bury it! And I didn't tell you to steal it from me. If anyone's a moron around here it's—'

‘Henry,' said Jenny, ‘my mother says that if you can't say something nice about a person, then don't say anything at all.'

Jenny's mother was right, of course. But it was too late. The word jumped out before I could shut my lips. ‘YOU!' I shouted.

Uh-oh.

‘Right, that does it!' said Fred, enraged. ‘I'll teach you to disrespect a Durkin!'

He lunged straight at me.

I braced myself.

But he never arrived.

Instead, Newton stuck out his leg and Fred tripped, stumbled, and fell headfirst into the hole where the treasure had been.

The class cheered.

‘Nice going, Newton!' I said.

‘I'm going to tell my brother you did that!' said Clive.

‘I already KNOW he did it, you idiot!' yelled Fred. ‘Help me out of here!'

‘I didn't mean to do it,' said Newton, looking terrified. ‘It was an accident!'

‘Accidents happen,' I said. ‘Don't worry about it.'

I looked at Greenbeard's treasure lying on the ground.

It might have looked like junk, but given how excited my dad still got about the stuff he'd collected when he was young, I figured there was a pretty good chance that Principal Greenbeard would feel the same way about the things in his treasure chest.

‘Come on!' I said to Gretel, Jack, Jenny and Newton. ‘Help me pick all this up. We have to get it to Greenbeard's office—fast!'

We picked the treasure up off the ground, put it back into the chest and ran as fast as we could to Principal Greenbeard's office.

When we entered the reception area I could hear shouting. It was coming from inside Principal Greenbeard's office.

I hoped we weren't too late.

Mrs Rosethorn was standing at the counter. ‘And where do you think you're all going?' she said, giving us all the laser stare. But this time her stare didn't scare me. If we were going to save Mr Brainfright, there was no time to waste being scared.

‘I'll explain later!' I said, heading straight for Principal Greenbeard's office.

‘Oh, no, you won't!' said Mrs Rosethorn, stepping out from behind her counter and blocking Principal Greenbeard's door with her outstretched arms. ‘You'll explain right now!'

‘By the time I explain, it may be too late,' I said. ‘Please let us in. Please!'

But Mrs Rosethorn shook her head. ‘Nobody goes in or out of Principal Greenbeard's office without my permission. Especially not a bunch of dirty scruffy children who don't even have an appointment!'

I took a deep breath. ‘So you're not going to let us in?' I said.

‘No!' said Mrs Rosethorn firmly. ‘And don't waste any more time asking!'

‘We're not the time wasters here,' I said. ‘You are!'

‘How dare you accuse me of wasting time!' Mrs Rosethorn gasped. ‘I have never wasted a moment of my time—or anyone else's—in my entire life!'

‘Well, I'm sorry, Mrs Rosethorn,' I said, ‘but in this case that's exactly what you're doing. Gretel? Would you remove Mrs Rosethorn from the doorway, please?'

‘Certainly,' said Gretel, opening her arms wide.

‘Don't even think about it, young lady!' warned Mrs Rosethorn.

But Gretel just smiled.

She clamped her powerful arms around Mrs Rosethorn. Then, picking her up as if she were no heavier than a doll, Gretel deposited her back behind the reception desk.

Mrs Rosethorn was too surprised to protest.

‘You go in,' said Gretel, standing in the doorway to prevent Mrs Rosethorn from escaping. ‘I'll wait here.'

‘You kids are in
such
big trouble,' said Mrs Rosethorn.

‘We'll see about that,' I said, opening the door.