When Ted returned, the class was quiet again. Mr. Garland set up the projector for a color movie on American history. But this was not merely a history lesson. The children were told to study the costumes and architecture. It was actually several studies in one.
When the picture was over an hour later, Ted was blinking his eyes to accommodate them to the harsh daylight again when one of the children cried out, “Look!”
Every eye in the room did look. Following the pointing finger, they turned their gaze to one of the transparent side walls. There was Yank standing with his button nose pressed flat against the plastic, just like a small child looking out a glass window. This brought another round of laughter from the class. On this note, Mr. Garland dismissed the class for lunch.
That afternoon, as Ted, Jill, and Randy were about to leave for the day, Mr. Garland called them back just as they reached the door.
“Oh-oh,” Ted murmured with dread. “He’s going to give it to us now for bringing that little cutup to school!”
Meekly the three of them stood in front of the teacher’s desk. He looked up at them and smiled. “I don’t think that little bit of fun hurt us this morning. But please don’t bring Yank back again! I’m afraid one day of him is all I can stand.” He looked outside where they could see Yank seated on the ground.
He smiled again, and the relieved children grinned back. They had started toward the door, when Ted, who was looking back, pulled Randy and Jill to a stop.
“Listen,” he said. He turned them around and they heard part of a conversation Mr. Garland was having with one of the other pupils that might very well work to their benefit.
“Did I hear that boy say he couldn’t make the trip?” Jill whispered excitedly.
They waited expectantly, hoping that the teacher would look up and call them back. Ted felt a new surge of hope rise in him when Mr. Garland finally motioned to them. The boy, meanwhile, had left.
“I’ve just had a cancellation,” Mr. Garland told them. “Randy, you can make that trip after all, if you want to.”
“Do I?” Randy burst out, his face beaming. He fumbled around in his pocket for the check his father had given him. Then he pulled out the rumpled slip of paper.