school was startled, and showed it plainly. On many of the faces that Praska saw, incredulity wrote its mark. And then he came down to the end of the stage to fight for his vision, as leaders, all through the ages, have pleaded and fought for theirs.
"What are you afraid of?" he cried. "The home rooms have been showing us how citizens do their job. It all means something or it means nothing. I think it means something. Anyway, here's a chance for us to find out."
Still the boldness of the thing they were asked to do held them off.
"They'd laugh at us," came a voice.
"For what?" Praska flashed back. "For our public spirit? It is public spirit. We're working for the good of our school and for the good of Northfield."
The silence this time was thoughtful.
"Suppose they don't do what we ask?" It was Littlefield who pressed the question.
"Then we'll keep going there until they do. Where would Northfield have been last Thanksgiving Day if we had stopped line plunges after Harrison High held us for down the first time?"
He had spoken in terms that every student could comprehend. Back under the balcony applause broke out. It spread up and down the
