Mr. Cantwell, as will
be seen, lacked the saving grace of a sense of humor. He also
lacked ability in handling full-blooded, fun-loving boys.

Wednesday, just before one o'clock, the principal electrified
the assembled students by saying, in a voice that was ominously
quiet and cool:

"When school is dismissed I shall be glad to have Mr. Prescott
remain for a few words with me."

"Now it's coming," thought Dick, though without any particular
thrill of dismay.

He waited while the others filed out. Somehow the big building
didn't empty as fast as usual. Had Mr. Cantwell known more about
boy nature he would have suspected that several of Dick's friends
had remained behind in hiding places of their own choosing.

Dick remained in his seat, coolly turning the pages of his text-book
on ancient history.

"Mr. Prescott," called the principal sharply.

"Yes, sir," responded Dick, closing the book, slipping it into
his desk, and rising as though to go forward.

"No, no; keep your seat until I am ready to speak with you, Mr.
Prescott. But it isn't necessary to read, is it?"

"I was looking through to-morrow's history lesson, sir," Dick
replied, looking extremely innocent. "But, of course, I won't
if you disapprove."

"Wait until I come back," rapped out the principal, leaving the
room. He went out to see that the building was being emptied
of students, but of course he failed to discover that a few were
hiding as nearly within earshot as they could get.

Two or three of the teachers who had remained behind now left
the room. The last to go was Mr. Drake, the submaster. As he
went he cast a look at Dick that was full of sympathy, though
the submaster, who was a very decent man and teacher, did not
by any means intend to foster mutiny in the heart of a High School
boy. But Mr. Drake knew that Mr. Cantwell was not fitted either
to command respect or to enforce discipline in the High School.

When Mr. Cantwell came back he and the young soph had the great
room to themselves.

"Now you may come forward, Mr. Prescott," announced the principal,
"and stand in front of the platform."

As Dick went forward there was nothing of undue confidence or
any notion of bravado in his bearing. He was not one of those
schoolboys who, when brought to task by authority, try to put
on a don't-care look. Dick's glance, as he halted before the
platform and turned to look at Mr. Cantwell, was one of simple
inquiry.

"Mr