CHAPTER XVIII.
B PLUS AND D MINUS At half-past ten the next morning Mr.Daley hurried into the class-room where French IV was already assembled, stumbled over the edge of the platform--the boys would have gasped with amazement had he neglected to do that--and took his seat.

On one corner of the table in front of him was a pile of blue-books.

He drew it toward him and ran a hand along the edges of the books.
"Has everyone handed in his composition ?" he asked.
There was no reply and he seemed surprised.

"I--er--I am to understand, then, that you have all turned your books in ?" Still no dissenting voice.

Mr.Daley's gaze travelled over the class until it encountered Steve at the rear of the room.