The High School Pitcher | Page 4

right," nodded Dick. "I have fourteen dollars here. He'll let us have the rest to-morrow."
They hurried back to Dick's room, over the bookstore that was run by Mr. and Mrs. Prescott.
"Whew, but this stuff is heavy," muttered Dick, dumping the package on the table. "Mr. Pollock sent out to the pressroom and had some paper cut of just the size that we shall need for wrappers."
"Did you tell Pollock what we are going to do?" asked Greg Holmes.
"Not exactly, but he guessed that some mischief was on. He wanted to know if it was anything that would make good local reading in 'The Blade,' so I told him I thought it would be worth a paragraph or two, and that I'd drop around Monday afternoon and give him the particulars. That was all I said."
Inside the package were three "sticks" of the kind that are used for laying the little coins in a row before wrapping.
"Now, one thing we must be dead careful about, fellows," urged Dick, as he undid the package, "is to be sure that we get an exact fifteen coins in each wrapper. If we got in more, we'd be the losers. If we put less than fifteen cents in any wrapper, then we're likely to be accused of running a swindling game."
So every one of the plotters was most careful to count the coins. It was not rapid work, and only half the partners could work at any one time. They soon caught the trick of wrapping, however, and then the little rolls began to pile up.
Saturday afternoon Dick & Co. were similarly engaged. Nor did they find the work too hard. Americans will endure a good deal for the sake of a joke.
Monday morning, shortly after half-past seven, Dick and his chums had stationed themselves along six different approaches to the High School. Each young pranker had his pockets weighted down with small packages, each containing fifteen pennies.
Purcell, of the junior class, was the first to pass Dick Prescott.
"Hullo, Purcell," Dick greeted the other, with a grin. "Want to see some fun?"
"Of course," nodded the junior. "What's going?"
"You remember that Prin. asked us, last Friday, to bring in our fifteen pennies for the Christmas music?"
"Of course. Well, I have my money in my pocket."
"_In pennies_?" insisted Dick.
"Well, no; of course not. But I have a quarter, and I guess Prin. can change that."
Dick quickly explained the scheme. Purcell, with a guffaw, purchased one of the rolls.
"Now, see here," hinted Dick, "there'll be such a rush, soon, that we six can't attend to all the business. Won't you take a dozen rolls and peddle them? I'll charge 'em to you, until you can make an accounting."
Purcell caught at the bait with another laugh. Dick noted Purcell's name on a piece of paper, with a dollar and eighty cents charged against it.
All the other partners did the same with other students. With such a series of pickets out around the school none of the student body got through without buying pennies, except Fred Ripley and Clara Deane. They were not asked to buy.
Meanwhile, up in the great assembly room a scene was going on that was worth looking at.
Abner Cantwell had seated himself at his desk. Before him lay a printed copy of the roll of the student body. It was the new principal's intention to check off each name as a boy or girl paid for the music. Knowing that he would have a good deal of currency to handle, the principal had brought along a satchel for this morning.
First of all, Harper came tripping into the room. He went to his desk with his books, then turned and marched to the principal's desk.
"I've brought the money for the music, Mr. Cantwell."
"That's right, Mr. Harper," nodded the principal.
The little freshman carefully deposited his fifteen pennies on the desk. They were out of the roll. Dick & Co. had cautioned each investor to break the wrapper, and count the pennies before moving on.
Two of the seniors presently came in. They settled with pennies. Then came Laura Bentley and Belle Meade. Their pennies were laid on the principal's desk.
"Why, all pennies, so far!" exclaimed Mr. Cantwell. "I trust not many will bring coins of such low denomination."
A look of bland innocence rested on Laura's face.
"Why, sir," she remarked, "you asked us, Friday, to bring pennies.
"Did I?" demanded the principal, a look of astonishment on his face.
"Why, yes, sir," Belle Meade rattled on. "Don't you remember? You laughed, Mr. Cantwell, and asked each one of us to bring fifteen pennies to-day."
"I had forgotten that, Miss Meade," returned the principal. Then, as the sophomore young ladies turned away, a look of suspicion began to settle on the principal's face. Nor did that look lessen any when the next six students