Mr.Drake, who stood behind the principal, held up one hand appealingly.

It was that gesture which saved the situation at that critical moment.

The boys thought that if silence would please Mr.Drake, then he might have it.
"Pardon me, sir," whispered Drake in Cantwell's ear.

"I wouldn't harp on the word mutiny, sir.

Express your regret for the injury unintentionally done Bristow." Mr.Cantwell wheeled abruptly.
"Who is principal here, Mr.Drake ?" "You are, sir." "Then be good enough to let me finish my remarks." This dialogue was spoken in an undertone, but the students guessed some inkling of its substance.
The submaster subsided, but Mr.Cantwell couldn't seem to remember, just then, what he wanted to say.