A silence fell.
“Who did it?” he challenged, after a pause, and then a boy who had just come racing down the street, elbowed his way through the crowd, and took off his hat to the principal.
“I did, sir,” he said.
Mr. Branch looked into the frank, sunburned face. “You ought to be past such foolishness, Drake,” he replied, gravely, but the sternness had suddenly gone from his voice. “You’re a senior, this year, remember. I shall expect you to take it down at the noon hour.”
“Who is that boy, Louise?” Jacquette asked, eagerly, as Mr. Branch strode into the building and the pupils went trooping after.
“That’s Bobs Drake, the captain of the football team and idol of the school. Didn’t you notice Mr. Branch when he looked at him? That’s the way with all the teachers. They can’t be cross with Bobs more than a minute at a time.”
“Shouldn’t think they could! He’s splendid. But how is he ever going to bring that Indian down?”
“We’ll see how at noon. I’ll wait for you at this door,” said Louise, as they parted.
Promptly at twelve, the two girls hurried out, just in time to see Bobs Drake throwing off his coat and buttoning his blue sweater close. The ring of boys and girls around him was growing thicker every minute.
“I know where there’s a ladder, Bobs,” some one volunteered.