The principal was at once terrified. He was not naturally courageous, but he had a dangerous temper, and he now realized to what it had brought him. Mr. Cantwell was trying to frame a lame apology when an indignant voice cried out: "_Coward_!" His face livid, the principal turned. "Who said that?" he demanded, at white heat. "_I_ did!" admitted Purcell, promptly. Abner Cantwell sprang at this second "offender." But Purcell threw himself quickly into an attitude of defence. "Keep your hands off of me, Mr. Cantwell, or I'll knock you down!" "Good!" "That's the talk!" The excited High School boys came crowding about the principal and Purcell. Bristow was swept back by the surging throng. He had his handkerchief out, now, at his forehead. "Some of you young men seize Purcell and march him to my private office," commanded the principal, who had lacked the courage to strike at the young fellow who stood waiting for him. "Will you fight Purcell like a man, if we do?" asked another voice. "Run Cantwell out! He isn't fit to be here!" yelled another voice. Mr. Drake, the only submaster in the room at the time, was pushing his way forward. "Calmly, boys, calmly," called Drake. "Don't do anything you'll be sorry for afterwards." But those who were more hot headed were still pressing forward. It looked as though they were trying to get close enough to lay hands on the now trembling principal. Under the circumstances, Mr. Cantwell did the very worst thing he could have done. He pushed three or four boys aside and made a break across the assembly room. Once out in the corridor, the principal dove into his private office, turning the key after him. Secure, now, and his anger once more boiling up, Mr. Cantwell rang his telephone bell. Calling for the police station, he called for Chief Coy and reported that mutiny and violence had broken loose in the High School. "That seems almost incredible," replied Chief Coy. "But I'll come on the run with some of my men." Several of the fellows made a move to follow the principal out into the corridor. Dick Prescott swung the door shut and threw himself against it. Dave Darrin and Tom Reade rushed to his support. The other chums got to him as quickly as they could. "Nothing rash, fellows!" urged Dick. "Remember, we don't make the laws, or execute them. This business will be settled more to our satisfaction if we don't put ourselves in the wrong." "Pull that fellow Prescott away from the door!" called Fred Ripley, anxious to start any kind of trouble against Dick & Co. Submaster Drake, forcing his way through the throng, calming the hottest-headed ones, turned an accusing look on Fred. The latter saw it and slunk back into the crowd. Bristow, still holding his handkerchief to his head, darted out of the building. Submaster Morton and Luce, bearing the excitement, came up from class rooms on the ground floor. They entered by the same door through which Bristow had left.