Part 11 (2/2)

And then another horrid thing began. It was the coming of the anonymous letters - spiteful, hateful letters with no name at the end!

Only one girl in the form got them - and that was Moira. She got the first one on a rehearsal day. She slit open the envelope and read it in the common-room. She exclaimed aloud in disgust.

'What's up?' said Darrell. Moira threw the letter across to her. 'Read that,' she said.

Darrell read it and was horrified. This was the letter:

If only you knew what people really think of the head-girl of the fifth! Bad-tempered, unjust, bossy - if you left at the end of the term it wouldn't be too soon for

ME.

'What a disgusting thing,' said Darrell, in dismay. 'Who could possibly have written it? It's all in printed capitals, to hide the writer's own handwriting. Take no notice of it, Moira. The only place for anonymous letters is the fire.'

Moira tossed the note into the fire, and went on with her work. n.o.body could tell if she was upset or not - but everyone wondered who had written such a horrible letter.

The next one arrived the following day. There it was, on top of Moira's pile of books, addressed in the same printed writing.

She opened it, unthinking.

So you got my first letter. I hope you enjoyed it. Wouldn't you love to know what the girls say about you? It would make your ears burn! You've certainly got the distinction of being the most unpopular girl in the school - but who wants that distinction? Certainly not

ME.

'Here's another of them,' said Moira, in a casual tone, and gave it to Darrell and Sally. They read it, dismayed by the spite that lay behind the few lines.

'But, Moira - who can it be?' said Darrell. 'Oh dear - it's horrible. Anonymous letters are always written by the lowest of the low, I feel - and it's awful to think there's someone like that at Malory Towers.'

'I don't care,' said Moira. But she did care. She remembered the spiteful words and worried over them in bed. She worried over the rehearsals, too. She badly wanted them to go as well as they had done at first - but poor Moira always found it very difficult to give up her own opinions and ways. She couldn't alter herself - she expected everyone else to adapt themselves to her. And they wouldn't, of course.

'Don't open any more notes,' said Sally to Moira, seeing her look rather white the next day. 'You know which they are - chuck them in the fire. You can tell by the printing on the envelope what they are.'

But the next one wasn't in an envelope. It was stuffed in Moira's lacrosse locker down in the changing-room. It was actually inside her right boot! She took it out, and saw immediately what was written, for the note this time had no envelope.

What's a dictator? Ask Moira. Don't ask - ME.

Just that and no more. Moira crumpled up the note fiercely. This horrible letter-writer! She knew just what to say to hurt Moira most.

She told Darrell. She didn't really want to tell anyone, but somehow she felt she must put a brave front on the matter, and by telling about the letters and making them public she felt that would show the writer she didn't care.

She laughed as she showed Darrell the note. 'Quite short this time,' she said. 'But not exactly sweet!'

'Oh! It's hateful? said Darrell. 'We must find out who it is. We must stop it. I've never, never known such a thing happen all the time I've been at Malory Towers. Poisonous, malicious letters! Moira, why aren't you more upset? I should be absolutely miserable if I got these! Even if I knew they weren't true,' she added, hurriedly.

'You needn't add that,' said Moira, with a faint smile. 'They are true, actually. More than one of you have called me a dictator, you know - and bossy and bad-tempered.'

Darrell stared at her in horror. 'Moira - you wouldn't think I did it, would you? Or Sally? Or Alicia - or . . .'

Moira shrugged her shoulders and turned away. Darrell stared after her in dismay. She turned to Sally.

'We must find out who it is. We can't have Moira suspecting everyone of us! Gosh, what will the rehearsals be like if this kind of thing goes on?'

The fourth note didn't get to the person it was intended for. It was certainly slipped, unfolded, into a book on Moira's desk - but the book happened to be one that Miss Potts had lent Moira about play-production. And having finished with it, Moira handed it back to Miss Potts without discovering the anonymous note inside.

So it was Miss Potts who found it. It slipped out to the floor in the room she shared with Mam'zelle. She picked it up and read it.

Are you worrying about these notes? There are plenty more to come! I've got quite a few more names to call you, and adjectives that will suit you. How about the Demon Queen? You look like a demon sometimes. A domineering, bossy, scowling, glowering one, too. At least, that's how you appear to

ME.

Miss Potts was amazed at this note. She read it over again. Who was it meant for? She turned it over and saw a name printed on the back. MOIRA!

'Moira!' she said. 'So somebody slipped it into the book I lent her. An anonymous note - and a particularly spiteful one. Who in the world is low enough to think out things like these?'

She examined the writing. It gave her no clue, because all the letters were in capitals, very carefully done. Miss Potts frowned as she stood there. Like all decent people she thought that anonymous letter-writers were either mad or cowardly. They didn't dare to say what they thought openly - they had to do it secretly and loathsomely.

She sent for Moira. Moira told her about the other notes. 'Have you any idea at all who sent these?' asked Miss Potts.

Moira hesitated. 'Yes. But I'm not sure about it, so I can't say.'

'Go and get Darrell, and Sally, too,' said Miss Potts, thinking she could probably get more out of them. 'This has got to be stopped. Once a person of this sort gets away with a thing like this there's no knowing what they'll do next.'

Sally and Darrell came. They read the note. Darrell looked sick. 'Horrible,' she said.

'Who has written them?' demanded Miss Potts.

All three girls looked away. 'Well?' said Miss Potts, impatiently. 'This is not a thing to be backward about, is it? Don't you agree that it must be stopped?'

'Oh yes,' said Darrell.

'Well then - if you have any idea who has written them, tell me,' said Miss Potts. 'I can then go and tackle them at once.'

'Well - you see - it might be one of quite a number of people,' said Darrell.

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