It was, and to prove it a small freshman who had been detailed to watch for the Principal's approach from the entrance, came scuttling in with the news. "He's coming!" he shouted. "He's coming!"
Miss Turner quickly closed and locked the door and walked toward the entrance, whilst the others scuttled away from the office but lingered in the corridor, the girls doing a good deal of excited giggling and the boys trying their best to appear unconcerned. Then Mr. Grayson turned the corner and a sudden silence reigned. Since by that time nearly the entire student body was assembled, the silence was distinctly strange and uncanny, and Mr. Grayson evidently thought it so as, making his way through the crowd, he gravely bowed and returned the murmured greetings of the boys and girls. A puzzled look appeared on his face and he bent frowning glances right and left. Miss Turner intercepted him half-way along the corridor.
"Oh, Mr. Grayson," she said casually, "here's your key."
"Thank you, thank you. Ah—is there anything wrong, Miss Turner?"
"Wrong?" asked the teacher in surprised tones. "Why, no, sir."
