stride. Inwardly, he was all atremble, but no one would have guessed it from his bearing. He disappeared up the stage steps at the side, was; momentarily lost to view, and then emerged from the wings. The applause began again.
"The old bulldog!" Littlefield whispered. A dawn of comprehension had broken upon him. "I might have known he wouldn't let go if"
"Sssh!" came from Perry King.
"I'll bet," Littlefield went on, "that this has something to do with"
"Forget it," Perry told him impatiently. "I want to hear what this song and dance is all about."
"I've been trying to tell you," Littlefield said plaintively. He sighed and gave it up. Perry's eyes were riveted on the platform.
"Fellow students of Northfield High" Praska began.
"Louder, please," cried a voice.
Praska increased the volume of his tone. "I want to say something about the condition of Nelson Avenue outside the school. It isn't a street; it's a mudhole. After every rain, after snow begins to melt, it's a case of slop and squash across. We grumble about it, and then it dries and we forget about it until the next storm. We're proud of this school, and I don't think any
