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. Prescott, you are fully informed as to the hoax that was perpetrated on me yesterday morning?”

“You mean the incident of the pennies, I think, sir?” returned the boy, inquiringly.

“You know very well that I do, young man,” retorted Mr. Cantwell, rapping his desk with one hand.

“Yes, sir; I am fully informed about it.”

“And you know who was at the bottom of it, too, Mr. Prescott?”

The principal bent upon the boy a look that was meant to make him quail, but Dick didn’t quail.

“Yes, sir,” he admitted, promptly.  “I know at least several that had a hand in the affair.”

“And you were one of them?”

“Yes, sir,” admitted the young soph, frankly.  “I think I had as much to do with what you term the hoax, sir, as anyone else had.”

“Who were the others?” fired the principal, quickly and sharply.