“All of us, sir, I think.”

“Whose idea was it?”

“As I remember, sir, the idea belonged to us all.”

“Who made the first proposal?”

“That would be impossible to say, now, sir.”

“Do you remember anything about it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What was it?”

“I believe the fellows voted that Mr. Grady, who is studying to be a lawyer, should represent us as counsel.”

“Ah!  I shall be very glad, then, to hear from Judge Grady,” the principal dryly remarked.

“Judge” Grady bobbed up, smiling and confident—–­or he seemed so.  As for the rest of the fellows, the principal’s frigid coolness was beginning to get on their nerves.

“Mr. Principal,” began Grady, thrusting his right band in between his vest buttons, “the illustrious, perhaps immortal Burke, once elucidated a principle that has since become historic, authoritative and illuminating.  Among American and English jurists alike, Burke’s principle has been accepted as akin to the organic law and the idea is that a community cannot be indicted.”

It was a fine speech, for Grady had real genius in him, and this was the first chance he had ever had.  The principal waited until the budding legal light had finished.  Then Mr. Cantwell cleared his throat, to reply crisply: 

“While I will not venture to gainsay Burke, and he is not here to be cross-examined, I will say that the indictment of the community, in this instance, would mean the expulsion of all the young men in the High School.  To that form of sentence I do not lean.  A light form of punishment would be to prohibit absolutely the final baseball game of the school season.  A sever form would be to withhold the diplomas of the young men of the graduating senior class.  I think it likely that both forms of punishment will be administered, but I shall not announce my decision to-day.  It will come later.  The young men are dismissed.”  Clang!

Dismay would have been a mild name for what the fellows felt when they found themselves outside the building.  Of the principal, in a rage they were little afraid.  But when the principal controlled his temper he was a man in authority and of dangerous power.

After his own meal, and some scowling reflection, Mr. Cantwell set out to find his friend and backer in the Board of Education, Mr. Gadsby.  That custodian of local education heard Mr. Cantwell through, after which he replied: 

“Er—–­um——­ah—–­my dear Cantwell, you can’t very well prohibit the game, or talk of withholding diplomas from the young men of the graduating class.  Either course would make you tremendously unpopular.  The people of Gridley would say that you were lacking in—–­era sense of humor.”

“Sense of humor?” raged the principal, getting up and pacing the floor.  “Is it humorous to have a lot of young rascals running all over one’s authority?”