s impossible, if not as
malicious as any of Stellar Bahrr's stories. Indeed, Thelma Ekblad was
now, as she had always been, the very least of Jerry's troubles.

The school row, that had become the community fuss, culminated in the
superintendent putting upon his teachers the responsibility of
settlement.

If they were willing to concede to the foolish demands of the class, led
by Clare Lenwell, and grant full credits in their branches of study, he
would abide by their decision. The easiest way, after all, to quiet the
thing, he said, might be to let the young folks have their way this
time, and do better with the class next year. They could begin in time
with them. As if Solomon himself could ever foresee what trivial demand
and stubborn claim will be the author and finisher of the disturbance
from year to year in the town's pride and glory--the high-school Senior
class, and its Commencement affairs. The final vote to break the tie and
make the verdict was purposely put on Jerry Swaim, who had more
influence in the high school than the superintendent himself. Jerry
protested, and asked for a more just agreement, finally spending a whole
afternoon with Clare Lenwell in an effort to induce him to be a
gentleman, offering, in return, all fairness and courtesy.

Young Lenwell's head was now too large for his body. He was the hero of
the hour. Rule or ruin rested on this young Napoleon of the Sage Brush,
divinely ordained to free the downtrodden youths of America from the
iron heel and galling chains with which the faculty of the average
American high school enthralls and degrades--and so forth, world without
end.

This at least was Clare Lenwell's attitude from one o'clock P.M. to five
o'clock P.M. of an unusually hot June day. At the stroke of five Jerry
rose, with calm face, but a dangerously square chin, saying, in an
untroubled tone:

"You may as well go. Good afternoon."

Young Lenwell walked out, the cock of the hour--until the next morning.
Then all of the Seniors were recorded as having received full credits
for graduation from all of the faculty--except one pupil, who lacked one
teacher's signature. Clare Lenwell was held back by Miss Swaim, teacher
of the mathematics department.

The earthquake followed.

In the session of the school board on the afternoon of Commencement Day
Junius Brutus Ponk, who presided over the meeting, sat "as firm as Mount
Olympus, or Montpelier, Vermont," he said, afterward; "th