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School-wide sabotage . . .

Jerry Dooty extended his cupped paws. "I found these on the floor in Maureen’s office."

We leaned closer. He held a bunch of little-bitty pieces of wood. Headless matchsticks.

"I thought they seemed a little . . . I don’t know, suspicious?" he whined. "Figured I’d take them to Principal Zero, see what he thought."

Natalie frowned. "You think he’ll think she’s suspicious?""

I think he’ll think she’s not thinking," said Mr. Dooty. "Maybe he’ll think she made the stink."

"The stink?" I snapped. "You think?"

"I think." Jerry Dooty gave an elaborate shrug.

"But who cares what I think? I’m just the assistant janitor."

Could he be right? Could my mongoose pal have sunk so low? I shook my head. Never in a million lunchtimes.

Mr. Dooty shuffled past us, droning, "But I’ll tell you one thing—"

Before he could finish his one thing, three things happened.

First, Natalie sneezed. "Ha-CHOO!"

Second, an eerie creaking, like the front doors to a thousand haunted houses, filled the air.

And third, with a loud FOOMPF! the one-story building next to us collapsed.