school, so full of dignity and restraint the day before, was running riot in a tide of spontaneous elation.
Just before the first period bell rang Mr. Banning, who was standing at a window, caught Praska's eye and motioned mysteriously with his hand. The boy walked toward him. Down in the street three men were inspecting Nelson Avenue. One of them was Commissioner Hunter.
Praska gasped. "Do you think"
The teacher smiled. "The voice of the people is a strong voice when it asks for what is just."
That afternoon, in every home room, the students heard read a letter from Mr. Rue commending the school for the manner in which it had conducted itself. At that the elation died, to be succeeded by a fitting and sober pride of accomplishment. Just before classes ended for the day came another announcement from the principal—this time delivered in person. Commissioner Hunter, he said, had telephoned him that Nelson Avenue had been inspected and found wanting, and that the street would be repaired within a month.
The cheering that broke out then must have been heard at the City Hall. Praska found a lump in his throat. So this was the process of government in free America! He glanced at
