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