Hotel For Dogs by Lois Duncan Page B

the place.”
    “He sounds like exactly the sort of man Jerry Gordon will be when he grows up,” Andi said. “My dad’s strict too, but he’d die before he’d hurt a helpless little puppy. You aren’t going to let him do that, are you, Tiffany? Can’t you do something?”
    “I don’t know what,” Tiffany said forlornly. “When Daddy makes up his mind, that’s that. Do you know anyone who would take a puppy?”
    “I’ve used up all the people I know,” Andi said. “What about putting an ad on the bulletin board the way I did? I bet you get homes for all the pups right away.”
    “Do you really think so?” Tiffany brightened. “That would be wonderful. What should I say?”
    “Don’t say they’re part bulldog,” Andi advisedher. “Let people figure that out for themselves. If you have to say anything, you can say they’re a large part Airedale.”
    Tiffany looked doubtful. “They’re not, though. They’re just
half
Airedale.”
    “Don’t be so picky,” Andi said impatiently. “That’s a large enough part.”
    Grabbing Tiffany’s hand, she dragged her down the hall to the bulletin board.
    This time there was no group standing in front of it. There was just one person, Mr. Strode, the school principal. He had taken down Andi’s notice and was holding it close to his eyes, squinting as he struggled to read it without his glasses.
    He glanced up as the girls approached him.
    “Hello, girls,” he said. “Do either of you happen to know who this Andi Walker is?”
    If Tiffany had not been with her, Andi might have been tempted to say no. As it was, that wasn’t an option.
    “I am, sir,” she said in a small voice.
    “Then you’re the one who put this on the board this morning?” Mr. Strode was frowning. His brows drew together across the top of his nose in a straightgray line. “This board is only for notices pertaining to school activities — club meetings, sports events, and things like that.”
    “I’m sorry,” Andi said. “I didn’t know. I mean, I didn’t really think —”
    “No notices of any kind should be posted on this board without my permission,” the principal said.
    “I’m sorry, sir,” Andi said again.
    She glanced at Tiffany, who was twisting her hands together nervously. It was obvious that she was not going to say anything.
    “Please, sir,” Andi said quickly, before she could lose her nerve, “could we have permission to post another notice? I don’t need this first one up any longer because all our puppies have been spoken for, but my friend here has five of them and if we don’t find homes for them right away, her father is going to drown them.”
    “That’s a sad situation.” Mr. Strode’s expression softened. For a moment Andi thought he was going to say yes.
    Then slowly he shook his head.
    “Even in this case,” he said regretfully, “I can’t let you use the school bulletin board for a personalnotice. If I let you do that, in fairness I’d have to let everybody else do the same. Everyone has something he or she would like to advertise. Pretty soon we’d need ten boards to hold all the ads for dogs and cats and gerbils and goldfish.”
    His statement was reasonable. There was no way to argue with it. Even if there had been, fifth graders couldn’t get anywhere arguing with a school principal. Still, to Andi,
nothing
was reasonable if it meant the lives of five puppies.
    She worried about them all afternoon. As she turned the pages of her history book, she saw, instead of pictures of United States presidents, five sad little Airedale-bulldog faces.
    When she glanced across at Tiffany, bent over her own book, she felt like snatching something up and throwing it at her. How could she just sit there like that and do absolutely nothing?
    If they were my puppies, I’d think of some way to save them,
Andi told herself bitterly.
If I couldn’t find homes for them, I’d hide them and raise them secretly. I’d train them to do tricks, and