sitting in silence for a few moments, drew his history again from
his desk, turned over the pages, found the place he wanted and
began to read.

It was ten minutes later when the principal returned to the room.
He had been to one of the class rooms, where he had paced up
and down until he felt that he could control himself enough to
utter a few words. Now, he came back.

"Prescott, I shall have to think over your admission before I
come to any decision in the matter. I may not be able to announce
my decision for a while. I shall give it most careful thought.
In the meantime, I trust, very sincerely, that you will not be
caught in any more mischief---least of all, anything as serious,
as revolutionary, as yesterday's outrageous impudence. You may
go, now---for to-day!"

"Very good, sir," replied Dick Prescott, who had risen at his
desk as soon as Mr. Cantwell began to talk to him. As young Prescott
passed from the room he favored the principal with a decorous
little bow.

Dave Darrin, Tom Reade, Greg Holmes, Harper and another member
of the freshman class, came out of various places of hiding.
As he went down the stairs Dick was obliged to tread heavily enough
to drown out their more stealthy footfalls.

Once in the open, Harper and the other freshman scurried away,
their curiosity satisfied. But, a moment later, when Mr. Cantwell
looked out of the window, he was much surprised to see four members
of Dick & Co. walking together, and almost out through the gate.

"Have they been within earshot---listening?" wondered the principal
to himself, and jotted down the names of Darrin, Reade and Holmes.
The two freshmen, by their prompt departure had saved themselves
from suspicion.

On Thursday nothing was said or done about Dick's case. When
Friday's session drew toward its close young Prescott fully expected
to have sentence pronounced, or at least to be directed to remain
after school. But nothing of the sort happened. Dick filed out
at the week's end with the rest.

"What do you imagine Prin. can be up to?" Dave Darrin asked, as
Dick & Co. marched homeward that early Friday afternoon.

"I don't know," Dick confessed. "It may be that Mr. Cantwell
is just trying to keep me guessing."

"If that's his plan," inquired Reade, "what are you going to do,
old fellow?"

"Perhaps---just possibly---I shall fight back with the same weapon,"
smiled Dick.

Mr. Cantwell had, in truth, formed his plan, or as mu