“You remember that Prin. asked us, last Friday, to bring in our fifteen pennies for the Christmas music?”

“Of course.  Well, I have my money in my pocket.”

“In pennies?” insisted Dick.

“Well, no; of course not.  But I have a quarter, and I guess Prin. can change that.”

Dick quickly explained the scheme.  Purcell, with a guffaw, purchased one of the rolls.

“Now, see here,” hinted Dick, “there’ll be such a rush, soon, that we six can’t attend to all the business.  Won’t you take a dozen rolls and peddle them?  I’ll charge ’em to you, until you can make an accounting.”

Purcell caught at the bait with another laugh.  Dick noted Purcell’s name on a piece of paper, with a dollar and eighty cents charged against it.

All the other partners did the same with other students.  With such a series of pickets out around the school none of the student body got through without buying pennies, except Fred Ripley and Clara Deane.  They were not asked to buy.

Meanwhile, up in the great assembly room a scene was going on that was worth looking at.

Abner Cantwell had seated himself at his desk.  Before him lay a printed copy of the roll of the student body.  It was the new principal’s intention to check off each name as a boy or girl paid for the music.  Knowing that he would have a good deal of currency to handle, the principal had brought along a satchel for this morning.

First of all, Harper came tripping into the room.  He went to his desk with his books, then turned and marched to the principal’s desk.

“I’ve brought the money for the music, Mr. Cantwell.”

“That’s right, Mr. Harper,” nodded the principal.

The little freshman carefully deposited his fifteen pennies on the desk.  They were out of the roll.  Dick & Co. had cautioned each investor to break the wrapper, and count the pennies before moving on.

Two of the seniors presently came in.  They settled with pennies.  Then came Laura Bentley and Belle Meade.  Their pennies were laid on the principal’s desk.

“Why, all pennies, so far!” exclaimed Mr. Cantwell.  “I trust not many will bring coins of such low denomination.”

A look of bland innocence rested on Laura’s face.

“Why, sir,” she remarked, “you asked us, Friday, to bring pennies.

“Did I?” demanded the principal, a look of astonishment on his face.

“Why, yes, sir,” Belle Meade rattled on.  “Don’t you remember?  You laughed, Mr. Cantwell, and asked each one of us to bring fifteen pennies to-day.”

“I had forgotten that, Miss Meade,” returned the principal.  Then, as the sophomore young ladies turned away, a look of suspicion began to settle on the principal’s face.  Nor did that look lessen any when the next six students to come in each carried pennies to the desk.

Twenty more brought pennies.  By this time there was a stern look on the principal’s white face.