The broad grin that promptly spread over Harry Hazelton's face seemed to confirm Dick's claim as to the humorous quality of the story.
"Master Prescott," adjudged the principal, "you may rise in your seat and tell the story to the whole class, myself included. On this dull, rainy day I feel certain that we all need a good laugh."
A smile that grew to a titter in some quarters of the room greeted Dick as he struggled half-shamefacedly to his feet.
"Go on with the story," encouraged Old Dut. "Or, rather, begin at the beginning. That's the right way to serve up a story."
"I—I'd rather not tell the story, sir," protested young Prescott.
"Why not?" demanded the principal sharply.
"Well, because, sir—I'd rather not. That's all."
Principal Jones frequently employed that grilling way of questioning one of his pupils, and his implied sarcasm had a very effective way of making young offenders squirm before the class.
Whispering, in itself, is not a criminal offense, yet it often has a sad effect on the discipline of a schoolroom, and of late Old Dut had been much annoyed by whisperers.
"So you won't tell us all that choice story, eh, Master Prescott?" insisted the principal, half coaxingly.