"But pennies are all I happen to have, sir," protested Dave Darrin,
stepping forward. "Don't you want me to pay you for the music,
sir?"

"Oh, well," replied the principal, with a sigh, "I'll take 'em,
then."

As Dick & Co. had disposed of every one of their little rolls
of fifteen, few of the students were unprovided with pennies.
So the copper stream continued to pour in. Mr. Cantwell could
have called any or all of his submasters and teachers to his aid.
He thought of it presently, as his fingers ached from handling
all the pennies.

"Mr. Drake, will you come to the desk?" he called.

So Submaster Drake came to the platform, drawing a chair up beside
the principal's. But Mr. Cantwell still felt obliged to do the
counting, as he was responsible for the correctness of the sums.
So all Mr. Drake could do was check off the names as the principal
called them.

Faster and faster poured the copper stream now. Mr. Cantwell,
the cords sticking out on his forehead, and a clammy dew bespangling
his white face, counted on in consuming anger. Every now and
then he turned to dump two or three handfuls of counted pennies
into his open satchel.

Gathered all around the desk was a throng of students, waiting
to pay. Beyond this throng, safely out of range of vision, other