lins, the one member of the Sugar Creek Gang
who had made up his mind he wasn't going to have anything to do with
smoking a teacher out of his schoolhouse, the one who was going to be
what is called a gentleman, now lying upside down in a scrambled-up
heap, with one of my trouser legs ripped maybe half way down, and
myself all covered with snow and with my mind all tangled up and
everything.

The fall didn't hurt much though, on account of the snowdrift being
pretty deep, but we had to do something and do it quick.

Just that minute, I heard the schoolhouse door open around in front
and while I was trying to scramble to my feet, I looked toward the
front of the school and right that second Mr. Black came swishing
around on our side of the schoolhouse with a big pail in his hand and
swooped with it down onto a snowdrift, scooped up a pailful of snow
and without even looking in our direction dived back around the corner
of the schoolhouse like he was half scared to death, and right that
second Poetry yelled to Dragonfly and Little Jim who were still hiding
behind the rail fence to "Hurry up! I think the schoolhouse is on fire
inside! Let's go help Mr. Black put it out."

And so I, Bill Collins, an imaginary gentleman, but not looking like
even a half a one, staggered out of my snowdrift, and the four of us
made a dive for the front of the schoolhouse and around to the open
door, which had smoke pouring out of it, to see if we could help Mr.
Black put out the fire, if there was one.

"I can't go in," Dragonfly said, "I'm allergic to smoke. It'll make me
sneeze."

Just that second we heard Mr. Black's horse, which was tied at the
front gate, snort and make crazy horse noises, and even before I could
imagine what was going to happen, it had happened. There was a noise
like a leather strap straining, and then a cracking and splintering
sound. I looked just in time to see the little wooden gate to which
the horse had been tied, break in two or maybe three, and part of it
go galloping down the road being dragged by a scared wild-eyed brown
saddle horse, and at the same time I saw a half-wild-looking man come
running out of the smoking schoolhouse and make a wild dash through
the place where the gate had been and go racing after the horse, not
even seeing us boys, or if he saw us, not paying any attention to us,
but yelling to Prince in a commanding voice to "WHOA ... W-H-O-A!"

It certainly was an exciting minute, and in