The New Kid at School Read Online Free PDF Page A

of dragon secrets, Eric,” Mordred said. “Maybe you will learn something.”
    “From him?” Eric muttered. “Not likely.”
    “Well, new boy?” Mordred said. “Pray, tell us what you know!”
    “I—I know very little....” Wiglaf began.
    “See?” Eric cut in. “What did I tell you?”
    But the headmaster ignored him. “New boy,” he said, “know you the secret weakness of the dragon Gorzil?”
    “No, sir,” Wiglaf answered. “His weakness is still a secret.”
    “Too true.” Mordred sighed sadly. “But it would be useful to know it. For Gorzil is rumored to be in the Dark Forest. My scout Yorick is there now. As soon as he finds Gorzil’s cave, I shall send my best boys out to slay him. Slay him, and claim his great big golden hoard!”
    These words were barely out of Mordred’s mouth when a small man burst into the classroom. Branches and leaves were tied to his tunic, as if he were trying to disguise himself as a bush.
    “Yorick!” Mordred exclaimed. “Back so soon? What news from the Dark Forest?”
    “My lord,” Yorick began, “Gorzil has moved to a cave outside the village of Toenail.”
    “Toenail!” Torblad shrieked. “My family lives in Toenail!”
    “Sit down, Torblad,” Mordred snarled. “Go on, Yorick.”
    “My lord,” Yorick said, “the Toenailians have brought Gorzil all their gold. Now he swears to burn Toenail to the ground unless a son and a daughter of the village are outside his cave tomorrow. Tomorrow at dawn, in time for breakfast!”
    “Oh, that’s nice of Gorzil,” Torblad said, cheering up. “Having company for breakfast.”
    “You ninny!” Mordred cried. “They are to be his breakfast!” The headmaster turned back to his scout. “So! I shall send boys out to slay Gorzil this very afternoon!”
    Then a look of horror crossed his face.
    “Egad!” he exclaimed. “Class II and Class III just left on that blasted field trip to see the petrified dragon skeleton! That means I shall have to send Class I boys!”
    “Pray, send me!” Eric cried, falling to his knees.
    “Yes, yes,” Mordred said. “But remember, we have a buddy system here. I’ll need another volunteer.” He looked around the room. “Anyone but Angus. If I sent you, I’d never hear the end of it from your mother. All right, who will it be?”
    No hands went up.
    “Come now,” Mordred coaxed. “Gorzil is not so bad!”
    Still no hands went up.

    “My patience grows thin!” Mordred warned. Then his violet eyes lit upon Wiglaf.
    “You! New boy!” he boomed. “You seem to know a fair bit about dragons. And I chanced to look at the register book at lunchtime. You never paid your seven pennies!”
    “That is so,” Wiglaf began. “But—” He stopped. He had promised Frypot to say not a word about their dishwashing deal.
    “No buts!” Mordred cried. “You shall go with Eric! And you shall pay your seven pennies out of Gorzil’s gold!”
    “Aw, sir!” Eric cried. “Pray, pick someone else! Wiglaf has not even been here a whole day! He knows nothing of slaying!”
    “You slay Gorzil, then!” Mordred shouted. “Let him pull the cart for the dragon’s hoard. Now, be off! You must reach Gorzil’s cave by dawn. What are you waiting for? Go!”

Chapter 7
    Ready, Wiglaf?“ Eric called as he hurried toward the gatehouse.
    Wiglaf was bent over, trying to fix a wobbly wheel on the hoard cart. He glanced up and was nearly blinded by the glare from Eric’s slaying outfit.
    Eric stood proudly before him in a gleaming silver helmet. He carried a broad silver shield. And a wide silver belt held his sword.
    Wiglaf had only Surekill.
    “What fine gear,” Wiglaf told Eric.
    “Yes,” Eric agreed. “I sent away for it from the Sir Lancelot Fan Club catalog. Come! You shall pull the cart as Mordred said. Let us be off. My sword is itching to slay the dragon!”
    Wiglaf began to slide back the great iron bolt on the gatehouse door. But a yell from Eric made him stop.
    “Boar!” Eric