 Armist Brooks starring Eve Arden. Well, it's generally accepted that it's mostly women who try to keep their ages a secret. But this theory was disproved last week at Madison High School where Armist Brooks teaches English. Yes, it was disproved most definitely by our beloved principal, Osgood Conklin, who celebrated the birthday last Monday. When asked how old he was, he replied, a person as only as old as he feels. And while I don't think he made that up himself, he spent the entire week trying to out Mickey Rooney, Mickey Rooney. I was discussing our boy principal with my landlady Friday morning at breakfast. You mean to say Osgood is still making a spectacle of himself? Mrs. Davis, he's the biggest spectacle since the greatest show on Earth. Honestly, he's making a fetish of being young. Thursday he showed up at school wearing a bright red bow tie. A bow tie? How did it look? It looked like somebody had wrapped his Adam's apple as a belated Christmas gift. There's one consolation, Connie. If Mr. Conklin is so busy with himself, he won't find time to bother you. Well, he found some somewhere. Tuesday morning, he assigned me the task of purchasing a school bus. A school bus? Mr. Conklin feels we'll save money if we use our own bus for out-of-town games. So he persuaded the board to grant us an appropriation. How much did they grant you? $130. $130? What in the world can you get for that kind of money? Well, so far I've only been offered one conveyance. What kind? A garbage truck. The way our team's been playing, I almost took it. But yesterday, Mr. Boynton offered to see what he could find, so I turned the money over to him. Good for you, Connie. Mr. Boynton is one man who knows a bargain when he sees it. A present company, except me. That goes without saying, and I wish you hadn't. Well, I better clean up and get ready to leave the house here. I've got to take a couple of books back to the library today. All right, Mrs. Davis. Oh, that's probably Walter Denham who drive me to school. I'll get it. Come on in, Walter. Oh, it's Mr. Boynton. Good morning, Miss Brooks. Since I knew I was coming over, I phoned Walter and told him he needed a call for you this morning. I, uh, hope you don't mind my taking that liberty. Mind? It's a heck of a start. That is, please come in. What brings you to this part of town, Mr. Boynton? You live on the other side of school, and with the price of gas, what it is... Oh, I didn't drive my car here, Miss Brooks. I'm taking it down in the new school bus. You mean you bought something? For $130? That's right. Come over here to the window. See it? No, I don't. Say, what's that police patrol wagon doing in front of us? That's it, Miss Brooks. What is what? That's what I bought. You mean our new school bus is a black Mariah? Well, I know the team isn't playing well, but they don't deserve to be pinched. I got it from a used car dealer. He had a couple of them that were condemned as obsolete by the police department. From the looks of it, that thing should have been condemned to Devil's Island. Well, I know it doesn't seem like much now, Miss Brooks, but the kids at school can fix it up so you'll never recognize it. And the price is the luckiest coincidence you ever heard of. Really? Well, there was no sign on it at all. When I got to the lot, but when I told the dealer I had $130 to spend, he admitted that's just what it caused. That dealer was any more honest. He'd be in jail. Come on, Miss Brooks, let's get going. Oh, just a minute, Mr. Bornan. We can't drive up to school in that. Mr. Conklin would blow a gasket. But we could explain to him... No, first we've got to cushion the blow, Mr. Bornan. Look, Mr. Conklin's on a big youth kick, so it shouldn't be too difficult to butter him up. Butter him up? You know, flatter him into a more receptive frame of mind. Then we can spring our little bargain on him. Well, that might be the best course to pursue at that. I'm all ready to... Oh, hello, Mr. Bornan. Hello, Mrs. Davis. Come here, Mrs. Davis. Look out the window. Yes. Well, what do you know? The paddy wagon. I had no idea my library books were that much longer. That's what Mr. Bornan bought for school, Mrs. Davis. When the kids fix it up, you'll never recognize it, though. But we're going to take the regular bus to school to explain to Mr. Conklin. I would if I were you. Then I thought maybe you could drive it down to school for us about three o'clock this afternoon, Mrs. Davis, after Mr. Conklin knows about it. Would you mind very much? I should say not. I've always wanted to drive one of those. Look out, folks. Here I come. Clang, clang, clang, clang. Wait, wait for the police. Hey, you there. Now you quit speeding. Pull over to the curb. Well, where do you think you're going? To a fire? Right. Proceed. Mr. Bornan, there's Mr. Conklin going into school now. I'll stay behind this tree and you put the first coat of salve on him. All right. Save. From here it looks like he's shaved off his mustache. Really? I hardly ever noticed he had one. When I'm with him his lips are flapping so fast it's just a blur. Now go ahead, Mr. Bornan. Catch up with him. Yes, ma'am. Just a minute. Wait up, Stretch. I beg your pardon, Mr. Bornan. Did you call me Stretch? Oh, it's you, sir. From the back I mistook you for our star athlete, Stretch Snodgrass. Well, I... I'm sorry, Mr. Conklin. Well, I guess I fool a lot of people that way from the back. Of course, there's no mistaking who I look like from the front, is there? No, sir. Although I haven't seen Robert Taylor in some time. Oh, come now. Just because I shaved my mustache, I don't fancy myself another Robert Taylor. Kerry Grant, maybe. Oh, come now. Just because I shaved my mustache, I don't fancy myself another Robert Taylor. Quiet, maybe. Without the mustache, you look extremely young, if I may say so. As often as you like. Thank you, Bornan. Sir, I was wondering, maybe if you had a little time after school, perhaps you'd like to play some handball with me. Handball? Well, I haven't played for several years. I don't know. Oh, that's quite all right, Mr. Conklin. I know just how you feel. I'm very decent of you to be so considerate. It's obvious that you just want to spare us older fellas at thrashing. Oh, well, uh... That isn't quite the reason I won't play today. You see, Bornan, in honor of my birthday last Monday, some of my large brothers gave me a little blowout last night. You know what that sort of thing can lead to. Why, we must have played charades half the night. I see. Well, I better be getting into my lab. See you later, Carrie. Mr. Conklin. Toodle, Mr. Bornan. Yeah, toodle, kiddo. I ought to be in pictures. I'm beautiful to see. I ought to be in pictures. Well, good morning. How are you today, Mr. Bornan? Mr. Bornan? Oh, excuse me, sir. For a moment, I didn't recognize you. And you took me for Mr. Bornan? I apologize. It's a natural mistake. Yes, it is. You see, I spoke to Mr. Bornan on the phone about our new school bus. Oh, then you did purchase one. Splendid, Mr. Brooks. Splendid. I knew you could get something for $130. Tell me, is it nice and roomy? It'll hold 20 prisoners. A student. And, um, while it wasn't easy to find, I think it'll work out. Well, is it on the school grounds at present? No, sir. I wanted to tell you a bit about it first. No, no, no. Not another word, Miss Brooks. I don't want to hear a thing about it until it's before me. I prefer to be surprised. Your chances are excellent. But, Mr. Conklin, I should be... No, I'm going to my office now, Miss Brooks. Contact me when you have the vehicle ready for inspection. I'll see you later. Yes, sir. Well, at least I tried. Good morning, Miss Brooks. Wasn't that Daddy speaking to you just now? Yes, Harriet. I've got a message for him. I was late getting out of the house this morning, and right after Daddy left, the head of the board of education called him. Mr. Stone? Yes. Mother spoke to him. It seems Jason Brill, the principal at Clay City High, got an appropriation for a school bus at the same time we did. And Mr. Stone is simply furious, because of the type of bus they bought. Well, what did they buy? You'll never guess, Miss Brooks. Jason Brill bought, of all things, an old patrol wagon. Now, isn't that killing? I'm dead already. Look, Harriet, that's exactly what Mr. Boynton, acting for me, bought for Madison. What? But that's why Mr. Stone called to warn Daddy against buying any outlandish conveyance. You've got to do me a favor, Harriet. Please don't give that message to your father until I see what I can do about exchanging our Black Mariah. All right, Miss Brooks. Oh, gee, I hope you can return it and get the money back. Of course, if you can't, maybe the shop class can fix the wagon some way before Mr. Stone sees it. They'll either fix that wagon or mine will be fixed for good. Speaking about Mr. Stone's attitude toward the patrol wagon we were going to use as a school bus, I decided to take immediate action. Consequently, I spent the next few hours very productively, and by lunchtime, I had accomplished no less than six bitten fingernails. Then I met Mr. Boynton in the school cafeteria and told him of our dilemma. Well, let's see if I've got it straight. If Mr. Stone found out that Mr. Conklin intended to use a patrol wagon as a school bus, he'd raise Mary Ned with him. If Mr. Conklin would then raise Mary Ned with you, because even though I bought the wagon, you're the one to whom he delegated the authority and the board funds. However, so far Mr. Conklin doesn't know about the patrol wagon, nor does he know of Mr. Stone's phone call. Hence, in this situation, what are Miss Brooks and Mr. Boynton going to do? I don't know. Let's hear tomorrow's episode and find out. I know. Why don't you telephone Mrs. Davis, tell her not to bring the wagon, and then we'll take it back this evening and call Mrs. Davis six times, Mr. Boynton, and there's no answer. She's undoubtedly driving all over town just for the fun of it. Mr. Stone wagon? What fun can that be? Think of the fascinating type of hitchhiker she'll attract. And promptly at three she'll cruise up to our front door with all the stops out. There must be something we can do. Well, let's discuss it later, Mr. Boynton. Walter Denny's heading this way and my brother, he didn't know about this. Hello, Walter. Greetings, dear faculty. Hi. Care to join us, Walter? Yeah, just for a minute, thanks. Harriet told me of confidence about the new bus you bought, Miss Brooks. Imagine a police patrol wagon for a high school bus. Nobody but you could possibly have come through with such a delightfully whacked-up accomplishment. I bought the wagon, Walter. You? There go your grades in English and biology. No, don't get me wrong. I think the ID is real gone. But I'd better give you the sealed envelope Harriet wanted me to deliver. The sealed envelope? Yeah, she said it contained a highly secret message and I shouldn't bear what anybody else could hold of it. Where is the message, Walter? In just a second, I'll take off my shoe. You put the envelope in your shoe? I didn't want it to fall into enemy hands. Good work and thank you, Sam Space Man. Why didn't Harriet transmit the message verbally? Because she didn't want me to know what was in it either. Well, in that case, never mind your shoe. Just tell me what it says. Miss Brooks, that hurts. You don't think that I'd actually poke my nose into your envelope, do you? Only because your nose isn't long enough. Now, come on, Walter, what's the message? Well, Harriet was in her dad's office when he was out and Mr. Stone called and said he'd be here at 3 o'clock. And Harriet says in the note that if you don't either get her father out of school early or keep that wagon out of sight, you're a blonde goose. That's the noisiest secret message I ever received. Well, goodbye, Mr. Barnham. Miss Brooks, where are you going? I must go where the gone goose goes and me nobody knows. Wait to get Mr. Cocklin home early? No, Walter, I didn't. Well, you better do something pretty fast. It's almost 3 o'clock. Already? Well, if I don't think of something soon, Mrs. Davis will be here with the patrol wagon and it'll be too late. Look, Walter, out the window. She's here. I'll say she's here. Listen to her whack that bell. She's like a kid with a new toy. I'm glad she didn't get her hands on the revolver and blank cartridges I used in our last school play. Wait a minute. She seems to be driving away. No, she's only going around to the other side of the school to park. Closer to Mr. Conklin's office, Walter. So I'll just have to come clean and throw myself head first on the mercy of the court. Where are you going? Where else? I must go where the gone goose goes and me nobody knows. You're certain there were no phone messages for me, Harriet? None that I can seem to remember, Daddy. That's funny. The board granted us $130 for a school bus last week. I was expecting something inquiries about it from Mr. Stone. When they come through with any money, they usually want to know what... What's that? What's what, Daddy? That clanging. Sounds like a patrol wagon. Patrol wagon? Are you sure it's not your imagination? My imagination isn't that noisy. It is a patrol wagon. Harriet, they've come for me. There's not much time to explain, but that party my large brothers gave me last night got a little out of hand, and several of the brothers were carted off in just such a vehicle. Heavens to Dillinger, they're going to take me by storm. Surely you're exaggerating, Daddy. What happened last night? Well, we were all walking home from the bar and grill, from the club rooms, club rooms. A group of the boys began fooling around with a fire hydrant, just sky-larking, you understand, but some neighborhood snoop must have turned in and alarmed. Go on, Dad. Well, all of a sudden, for some totally incomprehensible reason, the cap of the hydrant became unscrewed, the water gushed into the street, and the next thing I knew, I heard the police patrol wagon approaching. What did you do then? Well, what could I do? I dropped the wrench and ran. Don't you see, Harriet, I had to escape. If the papers got wind of this and Mr. Stone learned of my participation, my career at Madison would have been ended, as it is. It was prolonged for 12 hours. Now, quickly, my dear, leave through my inner office. I mean to face this thing alone. But, Daddy, you shouldn't. Go, child. If you say so. And I was looking so young today. I'm ready. Come in. Good afternoon, Mr. Conklin. Why, it's Miss Brooks, dear Miss Brooks. What a pleasure it is to see you. It is? Oh, course it is. Don't you know how delighted I always feel when I see my favorite English teacher? Yes, sir, and I also know how you feel when you see me. But, Mr. Conklin, I have something to report. I know all about it, Miss Brooks. You do? Yes. The police will be up here looking for me any minute. The police? Looking for you? Well, it's a long and gruesome tale, but some of my large brothers were committing a bit of mischief last evening, and a patrol wagon hauled them off to the pokey. I got away, but some stooley reported me. Now, the wagon is downstairs for me. That's what you were going to tell me, isn't it, Miss Brooks? Not exactly, but I like your version better. That is, I wouldn't have been so blunt about it, Mr. Conklin. To think 15 years of teaching, seven years of principle, and it's all down the hydrant. Drain. Mr. Stone hears of this. I'm ruined. But why should he have to hear about it? Maybe I can stall the police off for you, Mr. Conklin. Would you, Miss Brooks, would you really? Do you think you could? I'd do anything to repay you anything. Please stop plucking at my sleeve. Now, you go into your inner office and wait. I'll see what I can do when the cops get here. You'd better hurry, Mr. Conklin. One moment, please. Tell them I'm out. God, God, tell them I'm out of here. I'm bucking for a discharge, but here goes. Come in. Hello, Connie. What is it, officer? Whom did you want to see? You must. Ozgood Conklin? You say you've come to take Ozgood Conklin to prison? Please, Mrs. Davis, make believe you're a policeman. I'll explain later. I'm very sorry, Sergeant, but he isn't here right now. Well, where is the black hearted rat? Prius is this arrest, anyway. The chief says he's our number one boy. Nail him, and we've broken the back of the crime wave. Please don't overdo it. Well, he might be somewhere around school. If you wait right here, I'll see if I can find him. Well, be quick about it. My orders are to bring him in dead or alive. Yes, sir. I'll be right back. Mr. Conklin, there's no time to lose. I know. I'm their number one boy. Then you heard him. A little. I can't understand him. Just because of a miserable fire hydrant, dead or alive. Speak, Mr. Conklin. I'm sure the department would get their real kicks bringing you in alive. That is, why don't you sneak out this side door? This side door? Oh, it's too late now. Come in. Good afternoon, Mr. Conklin. I'm sorry, but I can't talk to you now, Sonny. I'm in a terrible hurry, and I won't... Mr. Stone! What's the big rush? I was good. You act like a cornered convict with a hound snapping at his heels. What a delightful simile, Mr. Stone. Please, sir, you're much too busy to see me now, and I wouldn't want to take up your time. What is this? Aren't you expecting me? I left a message that I was coming down to discuss your new school bus. Message? You left a message? New school bus? You sound like the Andrews sisters. Let's watch it. Mr. Stone, couldn't we have our little chat tomorrow? You see, I'm hurrying home to be with my wife. She came down with virus pneumonia this morning. Oh, she did? Yes. Well, for your information, twitchy, my wife just phoned me and said Mrs. Conklin is playing bridge at our house right now. What? No wonder they call them miracle drugs. I don't know what's going on around here, but I'm not going to find out in this stubby cubicle. Why are you in here anyway, hiding from the law? The law? I like the bit about the convict and the hounds better. I'm going into your outer office where I can breathe. Don't go in there, Mr. Stone. Please, sir, please. Well, goodbye, Korea. Ah, ma'am. Well, how do you do, Mrs. Davis? Mrs. Davis? But where's the... that is, what happened to the... I might as well confess, Mr. Conklin. Mrs. Davis drove the patrol wagon down here because that's what was purchased as our new school bus. Our new school bus? Your new school bus? It's a Dilly Wacker. Conklin! Conklin! Conklin! Oh, please, Mrs. Davis. Knowing how Mr. Stone feels about outlandish conveyances, I can only say I'll take it back tonight, Mr. Stone. You'll do nothing of the kind, Miss Brooks. I'll admit I was furious with Jason Brill when I heard he bought a patrol wagon, but this afternoon he showed me just what the students at Clay City High did with it, and honestly, you'd never recognize it. Oh, well, if that's the case, wait till you see what we do with our patrol wagon. I'm sure Miss Brooks has dozens of ideas on the subject. Hundreds of ideas. I got a million of them. I got a million of them. First, we can remove the top. Remove the top? Good, good, good, good, good. Then we'll take the bars out of the side. Take out of the bars, get rid of the bars. Good, good, get rid of the bars. Then we can use those two gallons of red paint just acquired by the shop class, and then, oh, before I continue, Mr. Stone, there's one thing I'd like to know. Oh, what's that, Miss Brooks? Where do you stand on fire engines? In the Dartmouth book, we'll let another episode in their life of the teacher at Madison High next week at the same time. Join us.