Railroad Tie

The principal had a look of trepidation on his face as he silently slipped behind the building. The waning moon was not very bright that night but in the dim light he thought he could see someone in the building.  It was the middle of the night and he had come to rob the school of its money.  If there really was someone in the building, he would have to kill them and throw their entrails in the trash outside of the school in the big dumpster.  He stepped up to the door of the school and unlocked it.  It was a side door so he was not so overt in entering the building.  He felt the chassis of his handgun in its contemporary case on his hip.  It would be far from worthless if there was really someone in the building.  He walked the hallways, peeking into each classroom with his hand on the gun, ready to do a terse kill.  On his approach to the classroom that he was about to check, he inspired deeply and suddenly tripped and hurtled over a railroad tie in the middle of the hallway next to his last classroom.  It was old Mrs. Hallwine’s sacred railroad tie that had done it again.  Once again, on the prowl of checking classrooms for people inside of the school to kill, he tripped and broke his leg.  This time he had gone unconscious.  Mrs. Hallwine finally had proof for her case that the principal had tried to murder and rob.  Every night she came to the school to work all night and keep watch, but not ever before dragging her railroad tie out of the hovel in her back yard.  She aimed the prow of her play airplane down and smacked it down on the desk.  This would be one epoch nobody could forget.  Lucky for her as the social studies teacher, she would have the privilege of teaching about it.  The principal was going to be known as an outlaw from now on and live in a jail.1