Follow My leaderThe Boys of Templeton

By Talbot Baines Reed________________________________________________________________________Having now read all of this author's books about school life - ratherdated even to me - I feel that this book is the one I have enjoyed themost. It was not published as a book until seven or eight years afterthe author's death, but that was because the book had been published inserialised form in the Boy's Own Paper. 

While the original text looked quite nice it suffered from having beentypeset either by an apprentice or by someone rather eccentric. Forexample words with an apostrophe representing the "o" of "not" had theapostrophe consistently in the wrong place, for example "would'nt"instead of "wouldn't". We have very carefully cleaned up this class oferror, and hope no more are to be found. 

We have heard the audiobook, and it is good. 

The main heroes of the story are all lovable gentle little chaps, butdreadful things happen, like a boat they have used goes missing, and afolding pencil one of them desperately desires in the stationer's shopgoes missing from the shop. Thus throughout the book there is aconstant tension as to whether the police will be called, and eventuallyone of the boys sends for his father to help sort matters out, as theyhad got far beyond his own ability to deal with things. ________________________________________________________________________FOLLOW MY LEADERTHE BOYS OF TEMPLETON

BY TALBOT BAINES REED

CHAPTER ONE. 

THE BOYS OF TEMPLETON. 

HOW OUR HEROES ENTER UPON MORE THAN ONE CAREER. 

On a raw, damp morning in early spring, a rather forlorn group of threeyoungsters might have been seen on the doorstep of Mountjoy PreparatorySchool, casting nervous glances up and down the drive, and lookinganything but a picture of the life and spirits they really represented. 

That they were bound on an important journey was very evident. Theywere muffled up in ulsters, and wore gloves and top hats--a vanity noMountjoy boy ever succumbed to, except under dire necessity. Yet it wasclear they were not homeward bound, for no trunks encumbered the lobby, and no suggestion of _Dulce Domum_ betrayed itself in their dismalfeatures. Nor had they been expelled, for though their looks mightfavour the supposition, they talked about the hour they should get backthat evening, and wondered if Mrs Ashford would have supper ready forthem in her own parlour. And it was equally plain that, whatever theirdestination might be, they were not starting on a truant's expedition, for the said Mrs Ashford presently came out and handed them each asmall parcel of sandwiches, and enjoined on them most particularly tokeep well buttoned up, and not let their feet get wet. 

"It will be a cold drive for you, boys, " said she; "I've told Tom to putup at Markridge, so you will have a mile walk to warm you up before youget to Templeton. "

A waggonette appeared at the end of the drive, and began to approachthem. 

"Ah, there's the trap; I'll tell Mr Ashford--"

Mr Ashford appeared just as the vehicle reached the door. 

"Well, boys, ready for the road? Good bye, and good luck. Don't forgetwhose son Edward the Fifth was, Coote. Keep your heads and you'll geton all right. I trust you not to get into mischief on the way. Allright, Tom. "

During this short harangue the three boys hoisted themselves, one byone, into the waggonette, and bade a subdued farewell to theirpreceptor, who stood on the doorstep, waving to them cheerily, untilthey turned a corner and found themselves actually on the road toTempleton. 

Not to keep the reader further in suspense as to the purpose of thisimportant expedition, our three young gentlemen, having severallyattained the responsible age of fourteen summers, and having severallyabsorbed into their systems as much of the scholastic pabulum ofMountjoy House as that preparatory institution was in the habit ofdispensing to boys destined for a higher sphere, were this morning ontheir way, in awe and trembling, to the examination hall of Templetonschool, there to submit themselves to an ordeal which would decidewhether or not they were worthy to emerge from their probationary stateand take their rank among the public schoolboys of the land. 

Such being the case, it is little wonder they looked fidgety as theycaught their last glimpse of Mr Ashford, and realised that before theycame in sight of Mountjoy again a crisis in the lives of each of themwould have come and gone. 

"Whose son was he?" said Coote, appealingly, in about five minutes. 

His voice sounded quite startling, after the long, solemn silence whichhad gone before. 

His two companions stared at him, afterwards at one another; then one ofthem said--

"I forget. "

"Whose son was he?" said Coote, turning with an air of desperation tothe other. 

"Richard the Third's, " said the latter. 

Coote mused, and inwardly repeated a string of names. 

"Doesn't sound right, " said he. "Are you sure, Dick?"

"Who else could it be?" said the young gentleman addressed as Dick, whose real name was Richardson. 

"Hanged if I know, " said the unhappy Coote, proceeding to write an R anda 3 on his thumb-nail with a pencil. "It doesn't look right I believebecause your own name's Richardson, you think everybody else isRichard's son too. "

And the perpetrator of this very mild joke bent his head over hislearned thumb-nail, and frowned. 

It was a point of honour at Mountjoy always to punish a joke summarily, whether good, bad, or indifferent. For a short time, consequently, thepaternity of Edward the Fifth was lost sight of, as was also Cootehimself, in the performance of the duty which devolved on Richardson andhis companion. 

This matter of business being at last satisfactorily settled, and Tom, the driver, who had considerately pulled up by the road-side during the"negotiations, " being ordered to "forge ahead, " the party returned toits former attitude of gloomy anticipation. 

"It's a precious rum thing, " said Richardson, "neither you nor Heathcotecan remember a simple question like that. I'd almost forgot it, myself. "

"I know I shan't remember anything when the time comes, " said Heathcote. "I said my Latin Syntax over to Ashford, without a mistake, yesterday, and I've forgotten every word of it now. "

"What I funk is the _viva voce_ Latin prose, " said Coote. "I say, Dick, what's the gender of 'Amnis, a river?'"

Dick looked knowing, and laughed. 

"None of your jokes, " said he, "you don't catch me that way--'Amnis, ' acity, is neuter. "

Coote's face lengthened, as he made a further note on his other thumb-nail. 

"I could have sworn it was a river, " said he. "I say, whatever shall Ido? I don't know how I shall get through it. "

"Through what--the river?" said Heathcote. "Bless you, you'll getthrough swimmingly. "

There was a moment's pause. Richardson looked at Coote; Coote looked atRichardson, and between them they thought they saw a joke. 

Tom pulled up by the road-side once more, while Heathcote arranged withhis creditors on the floor of the waggonette. When, at length, theorder to proceed was given, that trusty Jehu ventured on a mildexpostulation. "Look'ee here, young gem'an, " said he, touching his hat. "You've got to get to Templeton by ten o'clock, and it's past nine now. I guess you'd better save up them larks for when you're coming home. "

"None of your cheek, Tom, " said Richardson, "or we'll have you downhere, and pay you out, my boy. Put it on, can't you? Why don't youwhip the beast up?"

The prospect of coming down to be paid out by his vivacious passengerswas sufficiently alarming to Tom to induce him to take their admonitionseriously to heart; and for the rest of the journey, although severaltimes business transactions were taking place on the floor of thevehicle, the plodding horse held on its course, and Markridge duly hovein sight. 

With the approaching end of the journey, the boys once more becameserious and uncomfortable. 

"I say, " said Coote, in a whisper, as if Dr Winter, at Templeton, amile away, were within hearing, "do tell me whose son he was. I'mcertain he wasn't Richard the Third's. Don't be a cad, Dick; you mighttell a fellow. I'd tell you, if I knew. "

"I've told you one father, " said Dick, sternly, "and he didn't havemore. If you want another, stick down Edward the Sixth. "

Coote's face brightened, as he produced his pencil and cleaned hislargest unoccupied nail. 

"That sounds more--, Oh, but, I say, how can Edward the Sixth be Edwardthe Fifth's father? Besides, he had no family and-- Oh, what a howlinghowler I shall come!"

His friends regarded him sympathetically, and assisted him to dismount. 

"We shall have to step out, " said Richardson; "it's five-and-twenty toten, and it's a good mile. Look here, Tom; you've got to come and fetchus at the school, do you hear? We're not going to fag back here afterthe exam. "

"My orders was to wait here till you pick me up, young gentlemen, " saidTom, grinning. "Mind what you're up to in them 'saminations. "

With which parting sally our heroes found themselves alone, with theirfaces towards Templeton. 

To any wayfarers less overwhelmed with care, that mile walk fromMarkridge to Templeton over the breezy downs, with the fresh sea airmeeting you, with the musical hum of the waves on the beach below, andthe glimmer of the spring sun on the ocean far ahead, would have beenbracing and inspiriting. As it was, it was not without its attractionseven for the three boys; for did they not stand on the precincts of thatenchanted ground occupied and glorified by the heroes of Templeton? Wasnot this very road along which they walked a highway along whichTempleton walked, or peradventure raced, or it may be bicycled? Werenot these downs the hunting-ground over which the Templeton Harrierscoursed in chase of the Templeton hares? Was not that square towerahead the very citadel of their fortress? and that distant bell thattolled, was it not a voice which spoke to Templeton in tones of familiarfellowship every hour?

They trembled as they heard that bell and came nearer and nearer to thegrand square tower. They eyed furtively everyone who passed them on theroad, and imagined every man a master and every boy a Templetonian. 

A shop with "mortar-boards" displayed in its window seemed like a templecrowded with shrines; and a confectioner's shop, in which two younggentlemen in gowns sat and refreshed themselves, was like a distantglimpse of Olympus where the gods banqueted. 

A boy with a towel over his shoulder lounged past them, and surveyedthem listlessly as he went by. 

How they cowered and trembled beneath that scrutiny! How they dreadedlest their jackets might be too long, or that the studs in their shirtsmight not be visible! How they hated themselves for blushing, andwished to goodness they knew what to do with their hands!

How their legs shook beneath them as they came under the shadow of thegreat tower and looked nervously for the porter's lodge! They wouldhave liked to look as if they knew the place; it seemed so foolish tohave to ask any one where the porter lived. 

"Just go and see if it's up that passage, " said Richardson to Coote, pointing out a narrow opening on one side of the tower. 

Coote looked at the place doubtfully. 

"Hadn't we better all try?" said he. 

"What's the good? Beckon if it's right, and we'll come. "

The unfortunate Coote departed on his quest much as a man who walks intoa cave where a bear possibly resides. 

His companions meanwhile occupied themselves with examining the gatewayand trying to appear as if architectural curiosity and nothing else hadbeen the object of their passing visit to Templeton. 

In a few minutes Coote reappeared with a long face. 

"Well? is it right?"

"No; it's a dust-bin. "

The great clock above them began to boom out ten. 

"We must find out somehow, " said Richardson. "We'd better ask at thisdoor. "

And, to the alarm of his companions, he boldly tapped on a door underthe gate. 

A man in uniform opened it. 

"Well, young gentlemen, what's your pleasure?"

"Please can you tell us where the porter's lodge is?" said Richardson, in his most persuasive tone. 

"I can. I'm the porter, and this is the lodge. What do you want?"

"Please we're Mr Ashford's boys, come for the examination. Here's anote from Mr Ashford for Dr Winter. "

The porter took the note, and bade the panic-stricken trio follow himacross the quadrangle. 

What a walk that was! Across that noble square, with its two great elm-trees laden with noisy rooks; with its wide-fenced lawn and sun-dial;with its cloisters and red brick houses; with its sculptures and Latinmottoes. 

And even all these were as nothing to the few boys who loitered about inits enclosure--some pacing arm-in-arm, some hurrying with books undertheir arms, some diverting themselves more or less noisily, someshouting or whistling or singing--all at home in the place; and allunlike the three trembling victims who trotted in the wake of the portertowards the dreadful hall of examination. 

At the door, Richardson felt a frantic clutch on his arm. 

"Oh! I say, Dick, " gasped Coote, holding out a shaking ringer, with alegend on its nail, "whatever is this the date for--1476? I put itdown, and-- Oh! I say, can't you remember?"

But Richardson, though he scorned to show it, was too agitated even tosuggest an event to fit the disconsolate date, and poor Coote had tototter up the stairs, hopelessly convinced that he had nothing at hisfingers' ends after all. 

They found themselves walking up a long, high-ceilinged room, with desksall round and a few very appalling oil portraits ranged along the walls, to a table where sat a small, handsome gentleman in cap and gown. 

He took Mr Ashford's letter, and the boys knew they stood in thepresence of Dr Winter. 

"Richardson, Heathcote, Coote, " said the Doctor. "Answer to yournames--which is Richardson?"

"I am, please, sir. "

"Heathcote?"

"I am, sir, please. "

"Coote?"

"I am, if you please, sir. "

"Richardson, go to desk 6; Heathcote, desk 13; Coote, desk 25. "

Coote groaned inwardly. It was all up with him now, and he might justas well throw up the sponge before he began. With a friend within callhe might yet have struggled through. But what hope was there when thenearer of them was twelve desks away?

For two hours a solemn silence reigned in that examination hall, brokenonly by the scratching of pens and the secret sighs of one and anotherof the victims. The pictures on the walls, as they looked down, caughtthe eye of many a wistful upturned face, and marked the devouring ofmany a penholder, and the tearing of many a hair. 

In vain Coote searched his nails from thumb to little finger. Noquestion fitted to his painfully collected answers. Edward the Fifthwas ignored, the sex of "Amnis" was not even hinted at, and "1476" neveronce came to his rescue. And yet, he reminded himself over and overagain, he and Heathcote had said their Latin syntax to Mr Ashford onlythe day before without a mistake. 

"Cease writing, " said the Doctor, as the clock struck two, "and the boysat desks 1 to 10 come up here. "

This was the signal for the cruellest of all that day's horrors. If thewritten examination had slain its thousands, the _viva voce_ slew itstens of thousands. Even Richardson stumbled; and Heathcote, when histurn came, gave himself up for lost. The Doctor's impassive facebetrayed no emotion, and gave no token, either for joy, or hope, ordespair. He merely said "That will do" after each victim had performed;and even when Coote, after a mighty effort, rendered "O tempora! Omores!" as "Oh, the tempers of the Moors, " he quietly said, "Thank you;now the next boy. "

At last it was all over, and they found themselves standing once more inthe great quadrangle, not very sure what had happened to them, butfeeling as if they had just undergone a surgical operation not unlikethat of flaying alive. 

However, once outside the terrible portal of Templeton, their heartsgradually thawed within them. The confectioner's shop, now crowded with"gods, " held them in awe for a season, and as long as the road wasspecked with mortar-boards they held their peace, and meditated on theirshirt-studs. But when Templeton lay behind them, and they stepped oncemore on to the breezy heath, they shook off the nightmare that weighedon their spirits and were themselves again. 

"Precious glad it's over, " said Richardson. "Beast, that arithmeticpaper was. "

"I liked it better than the English, " said Coote. "I say, is 'for' apreposition or an adverb? I couldn't remember. "

"Oh, look here! shut up riddles now, " said Richardson, "we've had enoughof them. Let's talk about our three and not your 'for, ' you Coote you. "

Whereupon Richardson started to run, a proceeding which at onceconvinced his companions that his last observation had been intended asa joke. As in duty bound they gave chase, but the fleet-footed Dick wastoo many for them; and when at last they came up with him he wasstrongly intrenched on the box-seat of the empty waggonette atMarkridge, with Tom's whip in his hand, beyond all attack. 

"I say, " said he, after his pursuers had taken breath and granted anamnesty, "it would be great fun to drive home by ourselves. Tom's nothere. I asked them. He's gone to see his aunt, or somebody, and leftword he'd be back at three o'clock. Like his cheek. I vote we don'twait for him. "

"All serene, " said the others, "but we shall want the horse, shan't we?"

"Perhaps we shall, " said Dick, with a grin, "unless you'd like to pullthe trap. The horse is in the stable, and we can tip the fellow to puthim in for us. "

The "fellow" was quite amenable to this sort of persuasion, andgrinningly complied with the whim of the young gentlemen; secretlyenjoying the prospect of Tom's dismay. 

"'Taint no concern of mine, " said he, philosophically. "If you tells meto do it, I does it. "

"And if we tells you to open your mouth and shut your eyes, and you'llfind sixpence in your hand, --you'll find it there, " said Dick. 

"Of course you knows how to drive, " said the stableman. 

"Rather! Do you think we're babies? Here, shy us the reins. Comealong, you fellows, there's room for all three on the box. Now then, Joe, give her her head. Come up, you beast! Swish! See if we don'tmake her step out. Let her go!"

With some misgivings, Joe obeyed, and next moment the waggonette swayedmajestically out of the yard very much like a small steam-tug going outof harbour in half a cap of wind. 

"Rum, the way she pitches, " said Dick presently; "she didn't do it whenwe came. "

"Looks to me as if the horse wasn't quite sober, " suggested Coote. 

"Perhaps, if you pulled both reins at the same time, instead of one at atime, " put in Heathcote, "she wouldn't wobble so much. "

"You duffer; she'd stop dead, if I did that. "

"Suppose you don't pull either, " said Heathcote. 

Richardson pooh-poohed the notion, but acted on it all the same, withhighly satisfactorily results. The trap glided along smoothly, and allanxiety as to the management of the mare appeared to be at an end. 

"I left word for Tom, " said Richardson, "if he stepped out, he'd catchus up. Ha, ha! Won't he be wild?"

"Wonder if he'll get us in a row with Ashford?" said Heathcote. 

"Not he. What's the harm? Just a little horse-play, that's all. "

Heathcote and Coote became grave. 

"Look here, " said the former, "we let you off last time, but you'llcatch it now. Collar him that side, Coote, and have him over. "

"Don't be an idiot, Heathcote, " cried the Jehu, as he found himselfsuddenly seized on either hand. "Let go, while I'm driving. Do youhear, Coote; let go, or there'll be a smash!"

But as "letting go" was an accomplishment not taught at Mountjoy House, Richardson had to adopt stronger measures than mere persuasion in orderto clear himself of his embarrassments. 

Dropping the reins and flinging his arms vehemently back, he managed todislodge his assailants, though not without dislodging himself at thesame time, and a long and somewhat painful creditors' meeting down inthe waggonette was the consequence. 

The mare, whose patience had been gradually evaporating during thisstrange journey, conscious of the riot behind her, and feeling the reinsdropping loosely over her tail, took the whole matter very much toheart, and showed her disapproval of the whole proceedings by taking toher heels and bolting straight away. 

The business meeting inside stood forthwith adjourned. With scaredfaces, the boys struggled to their feet, and, holding on to the rail ofthe box-seat, peered over to ascertain the cause of this alarmingdiversion. 

"It's a bolt!" said Richardson, the only one of the three who retainedwits enough to think or speak. "Hang on, you fellows; I'll try and getthe reins. Help me up!"

As well as the swaying of the vehicle would allow it, they helped himhoist himself up on to the box. But for a long time all his efforts tocatch the reins were in vain, and once or twice it seemed as if nothingcould save him from being pitched off his perch on to the road. Luckilythe mare kept a straight course, and at length, by a tremendous stretch, well supported from the rear by his faithful comrades, the boy succeededin reaching the reins and pulling them up over the mare's tail. 

"Hang on now!" said he; "we're all right if I can only guide her. "

CHAPTER TWO. 

HOW OUR HEROES FALL OUT AND YET REMAIN FRIENDS. 

Mountjoy House had a narrow escape that afternoon of losing three of itsmost promising pupils. 

The boys themselves by no means realised the peril of their situation. Indeed, after the first alarm, and finding that, by clinging tightly tothe rail of the box-seat, they could support themselves on their feet onthe floor of the swinging vehicle, Heathcote and Coote began almost toenjoy it, and were rather sorry one or two of the Templeton boys werenot at hand to see how Mountjoy did things. 

Richardson, however, with the reins in his hands, but utterly powerlessto check the headlong career of the mare, or to do anything but guideher, took a more serious view of the situation, and heartily wished thedrive was at an end. 

It was a flat road all the way to Mountjoy--no steep hill to breathe therunaway, and no ploughed field to curb her ardour. It was a narrowroad, too, so narrow that, for two vehicles to pass one another, it wasnecessary for one of the two to draw up carefully at the very verge. And as the verge in the present case meant the edge of rather a steepembankment, the prospect was not altogether a cheering one for aninexperienced boy, who, if he knew very little about driving, knew quitewell that everything depended on his own nerve and coolness. 

And Richardson not only had a head, but knew how to keep it. With arein tightly clutched in each hand, with his feet firmly pressed againstthe footboard, with a sharp eye out over the mare's ears, and a grimtwitch on his determined mouth, he went over the chances in his ownmind. 

"If she goes on like this, we shall get to Mountjoy in half an hour. What a pace! We're bound to smash up before we get there! Perhapsthese fellows had better try and jump for it. Hallo! lucky we didn't goover that stone! Wonder if I could pull her up if I got on her back?She might kick up and smash the trap! Wonder if she will pull up, or goover the bank, or what? Tom--Tom will have to run hard to catch us. Whew! what a swing! I could have sworn we were over!"

This last peril, and the involuntary cry of the two boys clinging onbehind him, silenced even this mental soliloquy for a bit. But thewaggonette, after two or three desperate plunges, righted itself andcontinued its mad career at the heels of the mare. 

"What would happen if we went over? Jolly awkward to get pitched overon to my head or down among the mare's feet! She'd kick, I guess!Those fellows inside could jump and-- By Jove! there comes something onthe road! We're in for it now! Either a smash, or over the bank, or--Hallo! there's a gate open!"

This last inward exclamation was caused by the sight of an open gatesome distance ahead, through which a rough cart-track branched off fromthe road towards the sand-hills on the left. Richardson, with theinstinct of desperation, seized upon this as the only way of escape fromthe peril which threatened them. 

"Look out, you fellows!" cried he; "hang on tight on the right sidewhile we turn, and jump well out if we go over. "

They watched him breathlessly as they came towards the gate. Thevehicle which was meeting them and their own were about equal distancefrom the place, and it was clear their fate must be settled in less thana minute. 

Richardson waved to the driver of the approaching cart to pull up, andat the same time edged the mare as far as he could on to the off-side ofthe road, so as to give her a wide turn in. 

"Now for it!" said he to himself, pulling the left rein; "if this don'tdo, I'll give up driving. "

The mare, perhaps weary, perhaps perplexed at the sight of the cart infront, perhaps ready for a new diversion, obeyed the lead and swervedoff at the gate. For a moment the waggonette tottered on its leftwheel, and, but for the weight of the two passengers on the other side, would have caught the gate post and shattered itself to atoms in thenarrow passage. 

As it was, it cleared the peril by an inch, and then, plunging on to thesoft, rough track, capsized gently, mare and all, landing its threeoccupants a yard or two off with their noses in the mud. 

It was an undignified end to an heroic drive, and Richardson, as hepicked himself up and cleared the mud from his eyes, felt halfdisappointed that no bones were broken or joints dislocated after all. Coote did certainly contribute a grain of consolation by announcing thathe _believed_ one of his legs was broken. But even this hope of glorywas short-lived, for that young hero finding no one at leisure to assisthim to his feet rose by himself, and walked some distance to a grassbank where he could sit down and examine for himself the extent of hisinjuries. 

"Wal, young squire, " said a voice at Dick's side, as that younggentleman found eyesight enough to look about him, "you've done it thistime. "

The owner of the voice was the driver of the cart, and the tones andlooks with which he made the remark were anything but unflattering toRichardson. 

"It was a close squeak through the gate, " said the latter, "not sixinches either side; and if it hadn't been for the ruts we should havekept up all right till now. I say, do you think the trap's damaged, orthe mare?"

The mare was lying very comfortably on her side taking a good breathafter her race, and not offering to resume her feet. As for thewaggonette it was lying equally comfortably on its side, with one wheelup in the air. 

"Shaft broken, " said the driver, "that's all. "

"That's all!" said Dick, dolefully, "we shall catch it, and no mistake. "

The man grinned. 

"You can't expect to play games of that sort without scratching thevarnish off, " said he. "No fault of yours you haven't got your necksbroke. "

"Suppose we try to get her up?" said Richardson, looking as if this lastinformation had very little comfort in it. 

So among them they unharnessed the mare and managed to disengage herfrom the vehicle and get her to her feet. 

"She's all sound, " said the man, after a careful overhauling. 

"She's a cad, " said Dick, "and I shouldn't have been sorry if she'dbroken her neck. Look at the smash she's made. "

The trap was indeed far worse damaged than they supposed as first. Notonly was a shaft broken, but a wheel was off, and the rail all along oneside was torn away. It was clear there was no more driving to be gotout of it that afternoon, and the boys gave up the attempt to raise itin disgust. 

"Do you know Tom, our man--Ashford's man?" said Dick. 

"Who? Tom Tranter? Yes, I knows him. "

"Well, you'll meet him on the road between here and Markridge, walking, or perhaps running. Tell him we've had a spill and he'd better seeafter the trap, will you? We'll go on. "

"What about the horse, though?" said Heathcote. 

"I suppose we shall have to take the beast along with us. We can'tleave her here. "

"I think we'd better stop till Tom comes, and all go on together, "suggested Heathcote. 

"I suppose you funk it with Ashford, " said Dick whose temper wassomewhat ruffled by misfortune. "I don't. If you two like to stop youcan. I'll go on with the mare. "

"Oh, no, we'll all come, " said Heathcote. "I'm not afraid, no more isCoote. "

"All serene then, come on. Mind you tell Tom, I say, " added he to thecarter. "Good-bye, and thanks awfully. "

And they departed in doleful procession, Dick, with the whip in hishand, leading the mare by the mouth, and Heathcote and Coote followinglike chief mourners, just out of range of the animal's heels. 

"What shall we say to Ashford?" asked Heathcote, after a little. 

"Say? What do you mean?" said Dick. 

"He's sure to ask us what has happened. "

"Well, we shall tell him, I suppose. "

"There'll be an awful row. "

"Of course there will. "

"We shall get licked. "

"Of course we shall. What of it?"

"Only, " said Heathcote, with a little hesitation, "I suppose there's noway of getting out of it?"

"Not unless you tell lies. You and Coote can tell some if you like--Ishan't. "

"I'm not going to tell any, " said Coote, "I've told quite enough in myexam. Papers. "

"Oh, of course, I don't mean telling crams, " said Heathcote, who reallydidn't exactly know what he did mean. "I'll back you up, old man. "

"Thanks. I say, as we are in a row, mightn't we just as well take itout of this beastly horse? If Coote led him you and I could take cockshots at him from behind. "

"Oh, yes, " said Coote, "and hit me by mistake; not if I know it. "

"We might aim at Coote, " suggested Heathcote, by way of solving thedifficulty, "and hit the mare by mistake. "

"Perhaps it would be rather low, " said Dick. "I don't see, though, whyshe shouldn't carry us. She's a long back; plenty of room for all threeof us. "

"The middle for me, " said Coote. 

"Think she'd kick up?" asked Heathcote. 

"Not she, she couldn't lift with all of us on her. Come on. Whoa! youbeast. Give us a leg up, somebody. Whoa! Hold her head, Coote, andkeep her from going round and round. Now then. By Jove! what a way upit is!"

By a mighty effort of combined hoisting and climbing, the boys, oneafter the other, scaled the lofty ridge, and perched themselves, assecurely as they could, well forward on the mare's long back. 

Luckily for them, the patient animal endured her burden meekly, andplodded on in a listless manner, pricking her ears occasionally at theriot which went on on her back, and once or twice rattling the bones ofher riders by a mild attempt at a trot, but otherwise showing no signsof renewing her former more energetic protest. 

In this manner, after a weary and not altogether refreshing journey, thethree jaded, tightly-packed heroes came to a standstill at the door ofMountjoy House, where, one after the other, they slid sadly from theirperches, and addressed themselves to the satisfying of Mrs Ashford'snatural curiosity, only hoping the interview would not be protracted, and so defer for long the supper to which they all eagerly lookedforward. 

"Why, what's all this?" said the matron. 

"Where's the waggonette, and Tom?" chimed in Mr Ashford, appearing atthe same moment. 

"Please, sir, " said Dick, "we didn't wait for Tom, and drove home, andthere was a little accident. I was driving at the time, sir. We gotspilt, and the trap was a little damaged. We left word for Tom to seeto it, and I'll write and get my father to pay for mending it. We'reall awfully sorry, sir. Dr Winter sends his regards, and we shall hearthe result of the exam. On Thursday. One of the wheels came off, but Ifancy it will go on again. It was a rut did it. We were coming alongat a very good pace, and should have been here an hour ago if it hadn'tbeen for the accident. We're sorry to be late, sir. "

After which ample explanation and apology the boys felt themselvesdecidedly aggrieved that they were not at once ushered in to supper. Mr Ashford, however, being a mortal of only limited perception, required a good deal more information; and a painful and somewhatpetulant cross-examination ensued, the result of which was that ourheroes were informed they were not to be trusted, that both Mr and MrsAshford were disappointed in them, that they ought to be ashamed ofthemselves, and that they would hear more about the matter to-morrow. 

And what about the supper?--that glorious spread of coffee and hottoast, and eggs and bacon, the anticipation of which had borne them upin all the perils and fatigue of the day, and had shone like a beaconstar to guide them home? The subject was ignored, basely ignored; andthe culprits were ordered to join the ordinary school supper and appeasetheir hunger on bread and cheese and cold boiled beef, and slake theirthirst on "swipes. "

Then did the spirits of Richardson, Heathcote and Coote wax fiercewithin them. Then did they call Mr Ashford a cad, and Mrs Ashford asneak. Then did they kick all the little boys within reach, and scowlfuriously upon the big ones. Then did they wish the mare was dead andTempleton a ruin!

As, when Jove frowns and Mercury and Vulcan scowl, the hills hide theirheads and the valleys tremble beneath the storm, so did the youth ofMountjoy quake and cower that evening as it raised its eyes and beheldthose three gloomy heroes devour their beef and drink their swipes. Noone ventured to ask how they had fared, or wherefore they looked sad;but they knew something had happened. The little boys gazed with awe-struck wonder at the heroes who had that day been at Templeton, andcontended for Templeton honours. The elder boys wondered if gloom waspart of Templeton "form, " and when their turn would come to look asblack and majestic; and all marvelled at the supper those three ate, andat the chasm they left in the cold boiled beef!

"Come on, you fellows, " said Richardson, as soon as the meal wasfinished. "I'm going to bed; I'm fagged. "

"So am I, " said Heathcote. 

"So am I, " said Coote. 

And the triumvirate stalked from the room, leaving Mountjoy more thanever convinced something terrific had happened. 

If Coote had had his way, he would rather have stayed up. He slept in adifferent room from Richardson and Heathcote, and it was rather slowgoing to bed by himself at half-past seven. But as it was evident fromDick's manner that this was the proper course to take under thecircumstances, he took it, and was very soon dreaming that he and Edwardthe Fifth's father were trotting round the Templeton quadrangle on themare, much to the admiration of the Templeton boys, who assembled intheir thousands to witness the exploit. 

Next day the uncomfortable topic of the mare and the waggonette wasrenewed in a long conference with Mr Ashford. 

As supper was no longer pending, and as a night's rest had intervened, the boys were rather more disposed to enter into details. But theyfailed to satisfy Mr Ashford that they were not to blame for what hadoccurred. 

"I am less concerned, " said he, "about the damage done to the waggonettethan I am to think I cannot trust you as fully as I ought to be able totrust my head boys. I hope during the week or two that remains of thisterm you will try to win back the confidence you have lost. I must, injustice to my other boys, punish you. Under the circumstances, I shallnot cane you, but till the end of the term you must each of you loseyour hour's play between twelve and one. "

Mr Ashford paused. Perhaps he expected an outburst of gratitude. Perhaps he didn't exactly know what to say next. In either case, hefound he had made a mistake. 

The boys, with an instinct not, certainly, of self-righteousness, but ofcommon justice, felt that they had had punishment enough already fortheir sin. Mr Ashford took no account of those few seconds when thewaggonette was dashing through the gate and reeling to its fall. Hereckoned as nothing the weary jolt home, the indignity of that supperlast night, and the suspense of that early morning. He made noallowance for an absence of malice in what they had done, and gave themno credit--although, indeed, neither did they give themselves credit--for the regret and straightforwardness with which they had confessed it. He proposed to treat them, the head boys of Mountjoy, as commondelinquents, and punish them as he would punish a cheat, or a bully, ormutineer. 

It wasn't fair--they knew it; and if Ashford didn't know it, too--well, he ought. 

"We'd rather be caned, sir, " said Richardson, speaking for all three. 

Mr Ashford regarded the speaker with sharp surprise. 

"Richardson, kindly remember I am the best judge of what punishment youdeserve. "

"It's not fair to keep us in all the term, " said Dick, his cheeksmounting colour with the desperateness of his boldness. 

Mr Ashford changed colour, too, but his cheeks turned pale. 

"Leave my sight, sir, instantly! How do you dare to use language likethat to me!"

Fortunately for the dignity, as well as for the comfort, of the threeboys, Dick made no attempt to prolong the argument. He turned and leftthe room, followed by his two faithful henchmen, little imagining that, if any one had scored in this unsatisfactory interview, he had. 

Don't let the reader imagine that any mystical glory belongs to theschoolboy who happens to "score one" off his master. If he does itconsciously, the chances are he is a snob for doing it. If he does itunconsciously, as Dick did here, then the misfortune of the master by nomeans means the bliss of the boy. 

Dick felt anything but blissful as he stalked moodily to the schoolroomthat morning and growled his injuries to his allies. 

But Mr Ashford, as soon as his first burst of temper had evaporated, like an honest, sensible man, sat down and reviewed the situation; andit occurred to him, on reviewing it, that he had made a mistake. Itwas, of course, extremely painful and humiliating to have to acknowledgeit; but, once acknowledged, it would have been far more humiliating toMr Ashford's sense of honour to persist in it. 

He summoned the boys once more to his presence, and they trooped in likethree prisoners brought up on remand to hear their final sentence. 

The master's mouth twitched nervously, and he half repented of theordeal he had set before himself. 

"You said just now, Richardson, that the punishment I proposed toinflict on you was not fair?"

"Yes, sir, we think so, " replied Dick, simply. 

"I think so, too, " said Mr Ashford, equally simply, "and I shall say nomore about it. Now you can go. "

The boys gaped at him in mingled admiration and bewilderment. 

"You can go, " repeated the master. 

Richardson took a hasty survey of his companions' countenances, andsaid--

"Will you cane us instead, please sir?"

"No, Richardson, that would not be fair either. "

Richardson made one more effort. 

"Please, sir, we think we deserve something. "

"People don't always get their deserts in this world, my boy, " said themaster, with a smile. "Now please go when I tell you. "

Mr Ashford rallied three waverers to his standard that morning. Theydidn't profess to understand the meaning of it all, but they could seethat the master had sacrificed something to do them justice, and withthe native chivalry of boys, they made his cause theirs, and did allthey could to cover his retreat. 

Two days later, a letter by the post was brought in to Mr Ashford inthe middle of school. 

Coote's face grew crimson as he saw it, and the faces of his companionsgrew long and solemn. A sudden silence fell on the room, broken only bythe rustle of the paper as the master tore open the envelope andproduced the printed document. His eyes glanced hurriedly down it, anda shade of trouble crossed his brow. 

"We're gone coons, " groaned Heathcote. 

"Don't speak to me, " said Dick. 

Coote said nothing, but wished one of the windows was open on a hot daylike this. 

"This paper contains the result of the entrance examination atTempleton, " said Mr Ashford. "Out of thirty-six candidates, Heathcotehas passed fifteenth, and Richardson twenty-first. Coote, I am sorry tosay, has not passed. "

CHAPTER THREE. 

HOW OUR HEROES GIRD ON THEIR ARMOUR. 

Our heroes, each in the bosom of his own family, spent a somewhatanxious Easter holiday. 

Of the three, Coote's prospects were decidedly the least cheery. Mountjoy House without Richardson and Heathcote would be desolationitself, and the heart of our hero quailed within him as he thought ofthe long dull evenings and the dreary classes of the coming friendlessterm. 

"Never mind, old man, " Dick had said, cheerily, as the "Firm" talkedtheir prospects over on the day before the holidays, "you're bound toscrape through the July exam. ; and then won't we have a jollificationwhen you turn up?"

But all this was sorry comfort for the dejected Coote, who retired homeand spent half his holidays learning dates, so determined was he not tobe "out of it" next time. 

As for Heathcote and Richardson, they were neither of them without theirperturbations of spirit. Not that either of them realised--who everdoes?--the momentous epoch in their lives which had just arrived, whenchildhood like a pleasant familiar landscape lies behind, and the hillof life clouded in mist and haze rises before, all unknown andunexplored. 

Heathcote, who was his grandmother's only joy, and had no nearerrelatives, did hear some remarks to this effect as he girded himself forthe coming campaign. But he evaded them with an "Oh, yes, I know, allserene, " and was far more interested in the prospect of a new Etonjacket and Sunday surplice than in a detailed examination of his pastpersonal history. 

The feeling uppermost in his mind was that Dick was going to Templetontoo, and beyond that his anxieties and trepidations extended no furtherthan the possibility of being called green by his new schoolfellows. 

Richardson had the great advantage of being one of a real family circle. 

He was the eldest of a large family, the heads of which feared God, andtried to train their children to become honest men and women. 

How far they had succeeded with Dick, or--to give him his real Christianname, now we have him at home--with Basil, the reader may have alreadyformed an opinion. He had his faults--what boy hasn't?--and he wasn'tspecially clever. But he had pluck and hope, and resolution, andwithout being hopelessly conceited, had confidence enough in himself tocarry him through most things. 

"Don't be in too great a hurry to choose your friends, my boy, " said hisfather, as the two walked up and down the London platform. "You'll findplenty ready enough, but give them a week or two before you sweareternal friendship with any of them. "

Dick thought this rather strange advice, and got out of it by saying--

"Oh, I shall have Georgie Heathcote, you know. I shan't much care aboutthe other fellows. "

"Don't be too sure. And, remember this, my boy, be specially on yourguard with any of them that flatter you. They'll soon find out yourweak point and that's where they'll have you. "

Dick certainly considered this a little strong even for a parent. Butsomehow the advice stuck, for all that, and he remembered it afterwards. 

"As to other matters, " said the father, "your mother, I know, has spokenfor us both. Be honest to everybody, most of all yourself, and remembera boy can fear God without being a prig-- Ah, here's the train. "

It was a dismal farewell, that between father and son, when the momentof parting really came. Neither of them had expected it would be sohard, and when at last the whistle blew, and their hands parted, bothwere thankful the train slipped swiftly from the station and turned acorner at once. 

After the bustle and excitement of the last few days, Dick found theloneliness of the empty carriage decidedly unpleasant, and for a shorttime after leaving town, was nearer moping than he had ever been before. 

It would be an hour before the train reached X---, where Heathcote wouldget in. It would be all right then, but meanwhile he wished he hadsomething to do. 

So he fell to devouring the provisions his mother and sisters had put upfor his special benefit, and felt in decidedly better heart when themeal was done. 

Then he hauled down his hat-box, and tried on his new "pot, " and feltstill more soothed. 

Then he extricated his new dressing-case from his travelling-bag, andexamined, with increasing comfort, each several weapon it contained, until the discovery of a razor in an unsuspected corner completed hisgood cheer, and he began to whistle. 

In the midst of this occupation the train pulled up, and Heathcote, with_his_ hat-box and bag invaded the carriage. 

"Hallo, old man, " said Dick with a nod, "you've turned up, then? Lookhere, isn't this a stunning turnout? Don't go sitting down on my razor, I say. "

"Excuse me a second, " said Heathcote, putting down his traps and turningto the window, "grandma's here, and I've got to say good-bye. "

"Good-bye, grandma, " added the dutiful youth, holding out his hand to avenerable lady who stood by the window. 

"Good-bye, Georgia. Give me a kiss, my dear boy. "

Georgie didn't like kissing in public, especially when the publicconsisted of Dick. And, yet, he couldn't well get out of it. So hehurried through the operation as quickly as possible, and stood with hisduty towards his relative and his interest towards the razor, wonderingwhy the train didn't start. 

It started at last, and after a few random flickings of his handkerchiefout of the window, he was able to devote his entire attention to hisfriend's cutlery. 

One exhibition provoked another. Heathcote's "pot" was produced andcritically compared with Dick's. He had no dressing-case, certainly, but he had a silver watch and a steel chain, also a pocket inkpot, and arailway key. And by the way, he thought, the sooner that railway keywas brought into play the better. 

By its aid they successfully resisted invasion at the different stationsas they went along, until at length Heathcote's watch told them that thenext station would be Templeton. Whereat they became grave and packedup their bags, and looked rather wistfully out of the window. 

"Father says, " remarked Dick, "only the new boys go up to-day. The restcome to-morrow. "

"Rather a good job, " said Heathcote. 

A long silence followed. 

"Think there'll be any one to meet us?" said Dick. "Don't know. I wishCoote was to be there too. "

Another pause. 

"I expect they'll be jolly enough fellows, " said Dick. 

"Oh yes. They don't bully now in schools, I believe. "

"No; they say it's going out. Perhaps it's as well. "

"We shall be pretty well used to the place by to-morrow, I fancy. "

"Yes. It'll be rather nice to see them all turn up. "

"I expect, you know, they'll have such a lot to do, they won't botherabout new fellows. I know I shouldn't. "

"They might about the awful green ones, perhaps. Ha, ha! Wouldn't itbe fun if old Coote was here!"

"Yes, poor old Coote! You know I'm half sorry to leave Mountjoy. Itwas a jolly old school, wasn't it?"

The shrieking of the whistle and the grinding of the brake put an end tofurther conversation for the present. 

As they alighted, each with his hat-box and bag and umbrella, and stoodon the platform, they felt moved by a sincere affection for the carriagethey were leaving. Indeed, there is no saying what little encouragementwould not have sufficed to send them back into its hospitable shelter. 

"Here you are, sir--this way for the school--this cab, sir!"--cried halfa dozen cabmen, darting whip in hand upon our heroes, as they stoodlooking about them. 

"Don't you go along with them, " said one confidentially. "They'llcharge you half-a-crown. Come along, young gentlemen, I'll take you fortwo bob. "

"Go on. You think the young gentlemen are greenhorns. No fear. Theyknow what's what. They ain't agoin' to be _seen_ drivin' up the Quad ina Noah's Ark like that. Come along, young gents; leave him for themilksops. The like of you rides in a hansom, I know. "

Of course, this artful student of juvenile nature carried the day, andthere was great cheering and crowing and chaffing, when the hansom, withthe two trunks on the top, and the two anxious faces inside, peeringover the top of their hat-boxes and bags rattled triumphantly out of thestation. 

As Templeton school was barely three minutes' drive from the station, there was very little leisure either for conversation or the recovery oftheir composure, before the gallant steed was clattering over thecobbles of the great Quadrangle. 

They pulled up at a door which appeared to belong to a bell of imposingmagnitude, which the cabman, alighting, proceeded to pull with an energythat awoke the echoes of that solemn square, and made our two heroesdraw their breath short and sharp. 

"Hop out, young gentlemen, " said the cabman, helping his passengers andtheir luggage out. "It's a busy time, and I'm in a hurry. A shillingeach, and sixpence a piece for the traps; that's two and three makesfive, and leave the driver to you. "

Considering the distance they had come, it seemed rather a long price, and Heathcote ventured very mildly to ask--

"The other man at the station said two shillings. "

"Bah!" said the cabman in tones of unfeigned disgust, "you are greenones after all! He'd have charged a bob a piece for the traps, andlanded you up to eight bob, and stood no nonsense too about it. Come, settle up, young gentlemen, please. The Templeton boys I'm used toalways fork out like gentlemen. "

Dick took out his purse, and produced five-and-sixpence, which he gavethe driver, just as the door opened and the school matron presentedherself. 

"Is that your cab?" said she, pointing to the receding hansom. 

"Yes, ma'am. "

"How much did he charge you?"

"Five shillings, ma'am. "

The lady uttered an exclamation of mingled wrath and contempt. "It'sdouble his right fare. Run quick, and you'll catch him. "

Heathcote started to run, shouting meekly, and waving his hand to theman to stop. 

But the man good-humouredly declined the invitation, raising his hatgallantly to the lady, and putting his tongue into his cheek, as hetouched the horse up into a trot, and rattled out of the square. 

Heathcote returned rather sheepishly, and the two friends followed thelady indoors feeling that their entry into Templeton had been anythingbut triumphant. 

"The idea!" said the matron, partly to herself and partly to the boys, "of his landing you and all your luggage on the pavement like that, andthen going off, before I came. He knew well enough I should have seenhe only got his right fare. The wretch!"

The boys did not know at the time, but they discovered it afterwards, that Mrs Partlett, the matron, had a standing feud with all the cabmenof Templeton, whose delight it was to enjoy themselves at her expense--apastime they could not more effectively achieve than by fleecing heryoung charges, so to speak, under her very nose. 

"Now, " said she, when presently she had recovered her equanimity, "ifyou'll unlock these things, you can go and take a walk round theQuadrangle and look about you, while I unpack. The bell will ring fornew boys' tea in half an hour. "

They obeyed, and took a melancholy, but interested stroll round thegreat court. They read all the Latin mottoes, and were horrified tofind one or two which they could not translate. 

Fancy a Templeton boy not being able to understand his own mottoes!

They read the names on the different masters' doors; and dwelt withspecial reverence on the door-plate of Mr Westover, in whose house theywere to reside. They deciphered the carvings on the great gate, andshuddered as they saw the name of one "Joe Bolt" cut rude and deepacross the forehead of the cherub who stood sentinel at the chapelportal. 

All was wonder in that strange walk. The wonder of untastedproprietorship. It was _their_ school, _their_ quadrangle, _their_chapel, _their_ elm-trees; and yet they scarcely liked to inspect themtoo closely, or behave themselves towards them too familiarly. 

One or two boys were taking solitary strolls, like themselves. Theywere new boys too--nearly all of them afflicted with the sameuneasiness, some more, some less. 

It was amusing to see the way these new boys held themselves one toanother as they crossed and passed one another in that afternoon'spromenade. There was no falling into one another's arms in bursts ofmutual sympathy. There was no forced gaiety and indifference, as thoughone would say "I don't think much of the place after all. " No. Withblunt English pride, each boy bridled up a bit as a stranger drew near, and looked straight in front of him, till the coast was clear. 

At length the bell above the matron's door began to toll, and there wasa general movement among the stragglers in its direction. 

About twenty boys, mostly of our heroes' age, assembled in the tea room. Their small band looked almost lost in that great hall, as theyclustered, of one accord, for warmth and comfort, at one end of the longtable. 

The matron entered and said grace, and then proceeded to pour out teafor her hungry family, while the boys themselves, at her injunction, passed round the bread-and-butter and eggs. 

A meal is one of the most civilising institutions going; and Dick, aftertwo cups of Templeton tea, and several cubic inches of Templeton bread-and-butter, felt amiably inclined towards his left-hand neighbour, alittle timorous-looking boy, who blushed when anybody looked at him, andnearly fainted when he heard his own voice answering Mrs Partlett'senquiry whether he wanted another cup. 

Apart from a friendly motive, it seemed to Dick it would be goodpractice to begin talking to a youth of this unalarming aspect. Hetherefore enquired, "Are you a new boy?"

The boy started to hear himself addressed; then looking shyly up in thespeaker's face, and divining that no mischief lurked there, he replied--

"Yes. "

Dick took another gulp of tea, and continued, "Where do you live--inLondon?"

"No--I live in Devonshire. "

Dick returned to his meal again, and exchanged some sentences withHeathcote before he resumed. 

"What school were you at before?"

"I wasn't at any--I had lessons at home. "

"A tutor?"

The boy blushed very much, and looked appealingly at Dick, as though tobeg him to receive the disclosure he was about to make kindly. 

"No--my mother taught me. "

Dick did receive it kindly. That is, he didn't laugh. He felt sorryfor the boy and what was in store for him when the news got abroad. Healso felt much less reserved in continuing the conversation. 

"Heathcote here and I were at Mountjoy; so we're pretty well used tokicking about, " said he, patronisingly. "I suppose you didn't go in forthe entrance exam, then?"

"Yes, I did, " said the boy. 

"Poor chap, " thought Dick, "fancy a fellow who's never left his mammy'sapron-strings going in for an exam. How did you get on?" he added, turning to his companion. 

"Pretty well, I think, " said the boy shyly. 

"I was twenty-first out of thirty-six, " said Dick, "and Heathcote herewas fifteenth--where were you?"

Again the boy made a mute appeal for toleration, as he replied, "I wasfirst. "

Dick put down his cup, and stared at him. 

"Go on!" said he. 

"It was down on the list so, " said the boy with an apologetic air. "They sent one with the names printed. "

Dick made a desperate onslaught on the bread-and-butter, regarding hisneighbour out of the corners of his eyes from time to time, quite at aloss to make him out. 

"How old are you?" he demanded presently. 

"Thirteen. "

"What's your name?"

"Bertie Aspinall. "

"Whose house are you going to live in?"

"Mr Westover's. "

"Oh!" said Dick, abruptly ending the conversation, and turning roundtowards Heathcote. 

In due time the meal was over, and the boys were told they could do asthey liked for the next hour, until the matron was at leisure to showthem their quarters. 

So for another hour the promenade in the Quadrangle was resumed. Not sodismally, however, as before. The tea had broken the ice wonderfully, and instead of the studied avoidance of the afternoon, one group andanother fell now to comparing notes, and rehearsing the legends they hadheard of Templeton and its inmates. And gradually a fellow-feeling madeevery one wondrous kind, and the little army of twenty in the prospectof to-morrow's battles, drew together in bonds of self-defence, and feltall very like brothers. 

Aspinall, however, who knew no one, and had not dared to join himself toany of the groups, paced in solitude at a distance, hoping for nothingbetter than that he might escape notice and be left to himself. ButDick, whose interest in him had become very decided, found him outbefore long and, much to his terror, insisted in introducing him toHeathcote and attaching him to their party. 

"There's nothing to be in a funk about, young 'un, " said he. "I know Idon't mean to funk it, whatever they do to me. "

"I'll back you up, old man, all I can, " said Heathcote. 

"I expect it's far the best way not to kick out, but just go throughwith it, " said Dick. "That's what my father says, and he had a prettyrough time of it, he said, at first. "

"Oh, _yes_; I'm sure it's all the worse for a fellow if he funks or getsout of temper. "

All this was very alarming talk for the timorous small boy to overhear, and he longed, a hundred times, to be safe back in Devonshire. 

"I'm afraid, " he faltered. "I know--I shall be a coward. "

"Don't be a young ass, " said Dick. "Heathcote and I will back you upall we can, won't we, Georgie?"

"Rather, " said Heathcote. 

"If you do, it won't be half so bad, " said the boy, brightening up abit; "it's dreadful to be a coward. "

"Well, why are you one?" said Dick. "No one's obliged to be one. "

"I suppose I can't help it. I try hard. "

"There goes the bell. I suppose that's for us to go in, " said Dick, asthe summons once more sounded. 

They found the matron with a list in her hand, which she proceeded tocall over, bidding each boy answer to his name. The first twelve werethe new boys of Westover's house, and they included our two heroes andAspinall, who were forthwith marched, together with their night apparel, across the court to their new quarters. 

Here they were received by another matron, who presided over thewardrobes of the youth of Westover's, and by her they were escorted toone of the dormitories, where, for that night at any rate, they were tobe permitted to sleep in the comfort of one another's society. 

"New boys are to call on the Doctor after breakfast in the morning, "announced she. "Breakfast at eight, and no morning chapel. Good-night!"

It was not long before the dormitory was silent. One by one, the tiredboys dropped off, most of them with heavy hearts as they thought of themorrow. 

Among the last was Dick, who, as he lay awake and went over, in hismind, the experiences of the day, was startled by what sounded very likea sob in the bed next to his. 

He had half a mind to get up and go and say something to the dismallittle Devonshire boy. 

But on second thoughts he thought the kindest thing would be to let thepoor fellow have his cry out, so he turned over and tried not to hearit; and while trying he fell asleep. 

CHAPTER FOUR. 

HOW OUR HEROES ARE PUT THROUGH THEIR PACES. 

"The Assyrian came down like a wolf on the fold" early next day. Thetwenty innocent lambs whom, in the last chapter, we left sweetly foldedin slumber had barely had time to arise and comb their hair when theadvance-guard of the hungry tyrant appeared in their midst. 

This was no other than a truck-load of trunks, portmanteaux, bags andhat-boxes sent up from the station, the owners of which, so the alarmingrumour spread, were on the road. 

It was an agitated meal our heroes partook of with the spectacle of thattruck before their eyes, and many an anxious ear was pricked for thefirst sound of the approaching horde. 

But the horde, being aware that nothing was expected of it till mid-day, by no means saw the fun of surrendering its liberty at 10 o'clock, andwent down to bathe in the harbour on the way up, so that the fate whichimpended was kept for two good hours in suspense. 

Meanwhile, the interview with the Doctor was accomplished. It was notvery alarming. Your new boy would sooner face twenty doctors than onehero of the middle Fifth. The head master asked a few kindly questionsof each boy, and, so to speak, took stock of him before adding his nameformally to the school list. He also added a few words of advice to thecompany generally, and enlightened them as to a few of the chief schoolrules. The others, he said, they would learn soon enough. 

Whereat they all said, "Thank you, sir, " and retired. 

Dick and Heathcote, with young Aspinall in tow, walked back toWestover's house together, and were nearly half-way there, when Aspinallsuddenly clutched Dick's arm and whispered--

"There's one!"

They all stood still and gazed as if it was a spectre, not a humanbeing, they expected. 

What they really did see was a rather nice-looking boy of sixteen orseventeen lounging in at the great gateway, looking about him with afamiliar air, and apparently bending his steps straight for Westover's. 

It was an awkward situation for our three new boys. Every step broughtthem nearer under the observation of the "Assyrian, " and at every stepthey felt more awkward and abashed. 

Dick did his best to put on a little swagger. He stuck one hand in hispocket, and twitched his hat a trifle on one side. Heathcote, too, instinctively let slip his jacket button so as to betray his watch-chain, and laughed rather loudly at something which nobody said. Pooryoung Aspinall attempted no such demonstration, but slipped under thelee of his protectors, and wondered what would become of him. 

The old boy and the new foregathered just at the door of Westover's, andit was not till they actually stood face to face that the former gaveany sign of being aware of the presence of the trio. He then honouredthem with a casual survey as they stood back to let him enter first. 

"New kids?" he asked. 

"Yes. "

"Westover's?"

"Yes. "

The hero grunted and passed in, and they heard him shouting to thematron to ask if his traps had come from the station, and whetheranybody had come yet. 

Anybody come! He didn't count them, that was plain. 

Not knowing exactly what to do, they determined on another walk roundthe Quad, preferring to be reconnoitred by the enemy in the open, andnot indoors--possibly in a corner. 

The enemy reconnoitred in force. After the first arrival, boys droppedin in twos and threes, in cabs, in omnibuses, in high spirits, in lowspirits. The old square began to get lively. The echoes which hadslept soundly for the past fortnight woke up suddenly, and the rooks inthe elms began to grow uneasy, and summoned a cabinet council to discusswhat was going on in the lower world. 

"Hallo, Duff, old man, " cried one boy near to our heroes, as he caughtsight of a chum across the square. "Seen Raggles?"

"Yes; he's got a cargo down. He's asked me. "

"Tell him I'm up, will you?"

"What's a cargo?" asked Heathcote, as the speaker went past. 

"Goodness knows, " said Dick--"perhaps it's a crib. "

"My brother Will used to call a hamper a cargo, " said Aspinall. 

"Humph, " said Dick, who never liked to be corrected, "there's somethingin that. "

"I hope there is, " said Heathcote. 

It said a great deal for the solemnity of the occasion that Dick did notat once proceed to administer condign punishment. He took note of theoffence, though, and punished the offender quietly in bed some daysafter. Just at the present moment, had he been inclined to squareaccounts, he had no leisure; for a sudden cry of "Dredger!" was raised, whereat they noticed a number of boys step off the pavement on to thegrass. Before they could conjecture what this sudden manoeuvre mightmean, a rush of steps arose behind, and next moment they were caught upin the toils of a net constructed of towels knotted together, stretchingacross the path, and held at each end by two swift runners who sweptthem along at a headlong pace, catching up a shoal of stray fish on theway until even the stalwart dredgers were compelled, from the veryweight of their "take, " to slacken speed. 

A crowd collected to witness the emptying of the net. One by one thetrembling small fry were grabbed and passed round to answer a string ofquestions such as--

"What's your name?"

"Are you most like your father or your mother?"

"Who's your hatter?"

"Can you swim?"

"Who was the father of Zebedee's children?"

"Are you a Radical or a Tory?"

All of which questions each luckless catechumen was required to answertruly, and in a loud, distinct voice, amid the most embarrassing cheersand jeers and hootings of the audience. 

Dick got through his fairly well till he came to the political question, when he made the great mistake of saying he didn't know whether he was aRadical or a Tory. For, as he might have expected, every one was downon him, and he was sent forth a marked man to make up his mind on thequestion. 

Heathcote, whose sorrow it was to be separated from his friend in thelanding of the catch, was less lucky. He professed himself like hismother, which was greatly against him. His hatter also was a countryartist instead of a Londoner, and that he discovered was an extremelygrave offence. And as for his politics, he made a greater mistake eventhan Dick, for he professed himself imbued with opinions "between thetwo, " an announcement which brought down a torrent of abuse and scorn, mingled with cries of "kick him for a half-and-half prig!" anobservation which Heathcote was very sorry indeed to hear. 

As the reader may guess, poor young Aspinall had a very bad time of it. He began to cry as soon as the first question was propounded. But thisdemonstration failed to shelter him. A general hiss greeted the soundof his whimper, and cries of, "Where's his bottle?"

"Meow!"

"Hush-a-bye baby!" His ruthless tyrants, who knew no distinctionbetween the tears of a crocodile and the tears of a terrified child, made him go through his catechism to the bitter end. They howled withdelight when they heard him call himself Bertie, and paused in deadsilence to hear him say whether he was like "papa or mamma"--"or nurse?"as some one suggested. He took refuge in tears again, with the resultthat his inquisitors were more than ever determined to get their answer. 

"Hang it, you young ass, " said one boy, whom the child, even in hisflutter and misery, recognised as the boy who had accosted them at thedoor of Westover's that morning, "can't you answer without blubberinglike that? Nobody's going to eat you up. "

This friendly admonition served to set the boy on his feet, and hestammered out, "Mother. "

"You weren't asked if you were like your mother, " shouted some one, "areyou most like 'papa or mamma?'"

"Mamma, " faltered the boy. Whereat there was great jubilation, as therewas also when he described his hatter as _Mr_. Smith of Totnes. 

"Can you swim?"

"N-no, I'm afraid not. "

"That's a pity, with the lot you blubber. You'll get drowned some day. "

Terrific cheers greeted this sally, in the midst of which the boy wasalmost forgotten. 

But the political test remained. 

"Now, Bertie dear, are you a Radical or a Tory?" he was asked. 

The boy took a deep breath, and said--

"I'm a Radical. "

At which straightforward and unlooked-for reply there were great cheersand counter-cheers, in the midst of which the scared little Radical washustled down from his perch and sent flying to join his friends, andcalm the fluttering of his poor little heart. 

It being evidently unsafe to remain longer in the Quadrangle, thedejected trio betook themselves with many misgivings, to their house. 

Westover's presented a striking contrast to the quiet scene of yesterdayevening. It being still a quarter to twelve, and term not beingsupposed to commence till mid-day, the short interval of freedom fromschool rules was being made use of to the best advantage. 

The matron, shouted at and besieged on all sides, already stood at bay, with her hands to her ears, having abandoned any attempt to do anythingfor anybody. The house porter was in a similar condition of strike. Hehad once been knocked completely over by rival claimants on hisassistance, and he had several times been nearly pulled limb from limbby disappointed employers. He, therefore, stood with his back to thewall and his arms folded, waiting till the storm should blow itself out. 

Upstairs, in the studies, riot scarcely less exuberant was taking place. Bosom friends, reunited after three weeks' separation, celebrated theirreunion with paeans of jubilation and war-whoops of triumph. "Cargoes"were being unladen here; Liddell-and-Scott was officiating as a cricketball there; a siege was going on round this door, and a hand-to-handscrimmage between the posts of that. A few of the placid ones werequietly unpacking in the midst of the Babel, and one or two wereactually writing home. 

Our heroes, fancying the looks neither of the matron's hall nor of thelobby upstairs, deemed it prudent to retreat as quickly as possible tothe junior schoolroom, there to await, in the calm atmosphere ofexpectant scholarship, the ringing of the twelve o'clock bell. 

Has the reader ever visited that famous resort of youth, the Zoo? Hashe stood on that terrace five minutes before dinner-time and listened tothe deep-mouthed growl of the lion, the barking of the wolf, the shriekof the hyaena, as they pace their cages and await their meal? Then, turning on his heel, has he quitted that stately scene and pushed backthe door of the monkey house?

Even so it was with our heroes. The junior schoolroom was as thematron's hall and the studies thrown into one. --At first, to theuntutored eyes of the visitors, it looked like a surging sea of unkemptheads and waving elbows; then, as their vision grew accustomed to thescene, they beheld faces and legs and boots; then, amid the general din, they distinguished voices, and perceived that the sea was made up ofhuman beings. 

At the which they would fain have retreated; but, as old Virgil says--and we won't insult our readers by translating the verses--

 "Facilis descensus Averni, Sed revocare gradum Hoc opus, hic labor est. "

Their retreat was cut off before they were well in the room, and, amidloud cries of "New kids!" "Bertie!" "Scrunch!" they were escorted tothe nearest form, where they forthwith received a most warm and pressingwelcome into their new quarters. The top boy of the form, in hisemotion, planted his feet against the wall and began to push inwards. The bottom boy, equally overcome, planted his feet in the hollow of adesk and also pushed inwards. Every one else, in fellow-feeling, pushedinwards too, except our heroes, who, being in the exact centre, remainedpassive recipients of their schoolfellows' welcome until the line showedsigns of rising up at the point where Aspinall's white face pointed themiddle; whereupon the bottom boy considerately let go with his feet, andthe occupants of the form were poured like water on the floor. 

After being thus welcomed on some half-dozen forms, our heroes began tofeel that even good fellowship may pall, and were glad, decidedly glad, to hear the great bell beginning to sound forth. 

School that morning was rather a farce; the master was not in the humourfor it, nor were the boys. After calling over names and announcing thesubjects which would engage the attention of the different classes, andreading over, in case any one had forgotten them, the rules ofWestover's house, the class was dismissed for the present, all exceptthe new boys being permitted to go out into the court or playing-fieldstill dinner. 

It was a welcome relief to our new boys to find themselves together oncemore with the enemy beyond reach. 

Their ranks showed signs of severe conflict. One boy, who had rashlyworn a light blue necktie in the morning, wore no necktie now;Heathcote's jacket was burst under the arm; Dick bore no scars in hisraiment, but his nose was rather on one side and his face was rathergrimy; Aspinall was white and hot, and the "skeery" look about his eyesproclaimed he had had almost enough for one day. 

After dinner, at which our heroes rejoiced to find "the Assyrians" hadsomething more serious to do than to heed them, Templeton went out intothe fields to air itself. There was nothing special doing. A fewenthusiastic athletes had donned their flannels, and were takingpractice trots round the half-mile path. Another lot were kicking abouta football in an aimless way. Others were passing round a cricket ballat long range. But most were loafing, apparently undecided what to turnthemselves to thus early in the term. 

One or two of the Fifth, however, appeared to have some business onhand, in which, much to their surprise, our new boys found they wereconcerned. 

The senior whose arrival they had witnessed in the morning came up towhere they were, and said:

"You're all three new boys, aren't you?"

"Yes, " they replied. 

"Well, go up to the flag-staff there, and wait for me. "

With much inward trepidation they obeyed, wondering what was to happen. 

Swinstead, for that was the name of the Fifth-form fellow, continued histour of the field, accosting all the new boys in turn, and giving themthe same order. 

At length, the long-suffering twenty clustered round the flag-staff, andawaited their fate. 

It was simple enough. Every new boy was expected to race on his firstday at Templeton, and that was what was expected of them now. 

"Let's have your names--look sharp, " said one Fifth-form fellow, with apencil and paper in his hand, who seemed to look upon the affair asrather a bore. "Come on. Sing out one at a time. "

They did sing out one at a time. 

"Twenty of them, " said the senior, running down his list. "Four fives, I suppose?"

"Yes, " said Swinstead. "Clear the course, somebody, and call thefellows. "

So the course was cleared, and proclamation made that the new boys wereabout to race. Whereat Templeton lined the quarter-mile track; andshowed a languid interest in the contest. Swinstead called over thefirst five names on his list. 

"Take off your coats and waistcoats, " said he. 

They obeyed. Dick, who was not in the first heat, took charge ofHeathcote's garments, and secretly bade him "put it on. "

"Toe the line, " said Swinstead. "Are you ready? Off!"

They started. It was a straggling procession. Two of the boys couldscarcely use their legs, and of the other three Heathcote was the onlyone who showed any pace, and, greatly to Dick's delight, came in easilyfirst. 

Dick's turn came in the second round, and he, greatly to Heathcote'sdelight, won in a canter. 

In the fourth heat Aspinall ran; but he, poor fellow, could scarcelystruggle on to the end, and had literally to be driven the last fiftyyards. For no new boy was allowed to shirk his race. 

Templeton evinced a more decided interest in the final round. It hadlooked on as a matter of duty on the trial heats; but it got a trifleexcited over the final. The winner of the fourth round, the youth whohad been robbed of his light blue tie, commanded the most generalfavour. Swinstead on the other hand secretly fancied Dick, and one ortwo others were divided between Heathcote and the winner of the thirdround. 

"Keep your elbows in, and don't look round so much, " whispered Swinsteadto Dick, as the four champions toed the line. 

Dick nodded gratefully for the advice. 

"Now then. Are you ready?

"Go!" cried the starter. 

The hero of the blue tie led off amid great jubilation among thesportsmen. But Swinstead, who trotted beside the race, still preferredDick, and liked the way he kept up to the leader's heels in the firsthundred yards. Heathcote, in his turn, kept well up to Dick, and hadnothing to fear from the other man. 

"Pretty race, " said some one. 

"Good action number two, " replied another. 

"Swinstead fancies him, and he knows what's what. "

"I should have said number three, myself. "

Two hundred yards were done, and scarcely an inch had the position ofthe three runners altered. 

Then Swinstead called. 

"Now then, young 'un. "

Dick knew the call was meant for him, and his spirit rose within him. He "waited on his man, " as they say, and before the next hundred yardswere done he was abreast, with Heathcote close on the heels of both. 

Frantic were the cries of the sportsmen to their man. But his face wasred, and his mouth was open. 

"He's done!" was the cry of the disgusted knowing ones. And the knowingones were right. Dick walked away, as fresh as a daisy, in the lasthundred yards, while Heathcote blowing hard stepped up abreast of thefavourite. It was a close run for second honours; but the Mountjoy boystuck to it, and staggered up a neck in front, with ten clear yardsbetween him and the heels of the victorious Dick. 

CHAPTER FIVE. 

HOW HEATHCOTE NEARLY CATCHES COLD. 

Dick felt decidedly pleased with himself, as he walked back arm-in-armwith Heathcote, after his victory. 

He felt that he had a right to hold up his head in Templeton already, and although he still experienced some difficulty in managing his handsand keeping down his blushes when he met one of the Fifth, he feltdecidedly fortified against the inquisitive glances of the juniors. 

In fact, in the benevolence of his heart, he felt so anxious lest any ofthese young aspirants to a view of the hero who had won the new boys'race should be disappointed, that he prolonged his walk, and made acircuit of the great square with his friend, so as to give every one afair chance. 

At tea, to which Templeton trooped in ravenously after their firstafternoon's blow in the open air, he sat with an interesting expressionof langour on his face, enduring the scrutiny to which he was treatedwith an air of charming unconsciousness, from which any one mightsuppose he harboured not the slightest desire to hear what Swinstead wassaying to his neighbour, as they both looked his way. It was a pity hecould not hear it. 

"Look at that young prig, " said Swinstead's neighbour. "He can't getover it. It's gone to his head. "

"Young ass!" said Swinstead; "ran well too. "

"It would be a good turn to take him down a peg. "

"What's the use? He'll come down soon enough. "

For all that, the two friends could not resist the temptation, when, after tea, they caught sight of Dick and his chum going out into theQuad, of beckoning to the former to come to them. 

"Those fellows want me, " said Dick to his friend, in a tone as much asto say, "I'm so used to holding familiar converse with the Fifth thatit's really almost beginning to be a grind. But I don't like todisappoint them this time. "

"Well, how do you feel?" said Swinstead. 

"Oh, all right, " replied Dick, showing unmistakeable signs ofintoxication. 

"Capital run you made, " said the other. "Middling, " said Dick, deprecatingly. "I hadn't my shoes, that makes a difference. "

"It does, " said the two elders. 

"Rather a nice turf track you've got, " said the boy presently, by way offilling up an awkward gap. 

"Glad you like it. Some of the fellows growl at it; but we'll tell themyou think it good. "

It was rather an anxious moment to see how the fish would take it. Buthe swallowed it, hook and all. 

"We used to run a good deal at our old school, you know, " said he. "Some of us, that is. "

"Ah, you're just the man we want for the Harriers. They're badly offfor a whipper-in; and we had to stop hunting all last term because wehadn't got one. "

"Oh!" said Dick. 

"Yes. But it'll be all right if you'll take it--won't it be, Birket?"

"Rather!" said Birket. "He'd be a brick if he did. "

"I don't mind trying, " said Dick modestly. 

"Will you really? Thanks, awfully! You know Cresswell? No, by theway, he's not here yet. He's in the Sixth, and has been acting aswhipper-in till we got a proper chap. He'll be here in the morning. Any one will tell you where he hangs out. He'll bless you, I can tellyou, for taking the job out of his hands. You never saw the pace hegoes at when he tries to run, eh, Birket?"

"Rather not, " said Birket. "It's a regular joke. A snail's nothing tohim. "

"How has he managed to whip in?" asked Dick, rather amused at the ideaof this Sixth-form snail. 

"Bless you, we've had no runs lately, that's why. But we shall make upnow you've come. "

Dick heartily wished he _had_ run in his shoes that afternoon. He wassure he could have done the distance two or even three seconds better ifhe had. 

"If you'll really go in for it, " said Birket, "go to him early to-morrow, and tell him who you are; and say you are going to act aswhipper-in, and that you have arranged it all with us. "

Dick looked a little concerned. 

"Hadn't you better come with me?" he asked, "I don't know him. "

"We shall be in class. But he'll know if you mention our names. Say wesent you, and that you won the new boys' race. Do you twig?"

"All right, " said Dick, beginning to feel he had something really big onhand. 

"You're a young trump, " said Birket, "and, I say don't forget to ask himto give you the whip. We might manage a run to-morrow. Good-night. Glad you've come to Templeton. "

"Look here, by the way, " said Swinstead, as they parted, "don't sayanything about it to anybody. There's such a lot of jealousy over thesethings. Best to get it all settled first. Don't you think so?"

"Yes, " said Dick, feeling a good deal bewildered, and doubtful whetherafter all he had not been foolish in undertaking so important a task. 

He returned to his chum in an abstracted frame of mind. He hadcertainly expected his achievement that afternoon would give him a"footing" in Templeton, but in his wildest dreams he had not supposed itwould give him such a lift as this. 

Whipper-in of the Templeton Harriers was rapid promotion for a new boyon his first day. But then, he reflected, if they really were hard upfor a fellow to take the office, it would be rather ungracious to refuseit. 

"What did they want you for?" asked Heathcote. 

"Oh, talking about the race, don't you know, and that sort of thing, "said Dick, equivocally. 

"Did they say anything about me?"

"Not a word, old man. "

Whereat Heathcote turned a little crusty, and wondered that ten yards ina quarter of a mile should make such a difference. 

Dick was bursting to tell him all about it, and made matters far worseby betraying that he had a secret, which he could on no account impart. 

"You'll know to-morrow, most likely, " said he. "I'm awfully sorry theymade me promise to keep it close. But I'll tell you first of all whenits settled; and I may be able to give you a leg up before long. "

Heathcote said he did not want a leg up; and feeling decidedly out ofhumour, made some excuse to go indoors and hunt up young Aspinall. 

On his way he encountered a junior, next to whom he had sat at dinner, and with whom he had then exchanged a few words. 

"Where are you going?" demanded that youthful warrior. 

"Indoors, " said Heathcote. 

"No, you aren't, " replied the bravo, standing like a wolf across theway. 

It was an awkward position for a pacific boy like Heathcote, who mildlyenquired--

"Why not?"

"Because you cheeked me, " replied the wolf. 

"How? I didn't mean to, " replied the lamb. 

"That'll do. You've got to apologise. "

"Apologise! What for?"

"Speaking to me at dinner-time. "

The blood of the Heathcotes began to tingle. 

"Suppose I don't apologise?" asked he. 

"You'll be sorry for it. "

"What will you do?"

"Lick you. "

"Then, " said Heathcote, mildly, "you'd better begin. "

The youthful champion evidently was not prepared for this cordialinvitation, and looked anything but pleased to hear it. 

"Well, why don't you begin?" said Heathcote, following up his advantage. 

"Because, " said the boy, looking rather uncomfortably around him, "Iwouldn't dirty my fingers on such a beast. "

Now if Heathcote had been a man of the world he would have divined thatthe present was a rare opportunity for catching his bumptious youngfriend by the ear, and making him carry out his threat then and there. But, being a simple-minded new boy, unlearned in the ways of the world, he merely said "Pooh!" and walked on, leaving his assailant inpossession of the field, calling out "coward!" and "sneak!" after himtill he was out of sight. 

He was rather sorry afterwards for his mistake, as it turned out hemight have been much more profitably and pleasantly employed outsidethan in. 

Aspinall, whom he had come to look after, was nowhere visible, and, feeling somewhat concerned for his safety, Heathcote ventured to enquireof a junior who was loafing about in the passage, if he knew where thelittle new fellow was. 

"In bed, of course, " said the junior, "and I'd advise you not to letyourself be seen, unless you want to get in an awful row, " added hesolemnly. 

"What about?" asked Heathcote. 

"Why, not being in bed. My eye! it'll be rather warm for you, I tellyou, if any of the Fifth catch you. "

"Why, it's only half-past seven?"

"Well, and don't you know the rule about new boys always having to be inbed by seven?" exclaimed the junior in tones of alarm. 

"No. I don't believe it is the rule, " said Heathcote. 

"All right, " said the boy, "you needn't believe it unless you like. Butdon't say you weren't told, that's all, " and he walked off, whistling. 

Heathcote was perplexed. He suspected a practical joke in everything, and had this junior been a trifle less solemn, he would have had nodoubt that this was one. As it was, he was sorry he had offended him, and lost the chance of making quite sure. Dick, he knew, was still outof doors, and he, it was certain, knew nothing about the rule. 

But just then a Fifth-form fellow came along, and cut off the retreat. 

He eyed the new boy critically as he advanced, and stopped in front ofhim. 

"What's your name?" he demanded. 

"Heathcote. "

"A new boy?"

"Yes. "

"How is it you're not in bed? Do you know the time?"

"Yes, " said Heathcote, convinced now that the junior had been right, "but I didn't know--that is--"

"Shut up and don't tell lies, " said the Fifth-form boy, severely. "Goto bed instantly, and write me out 200 lines of Virgil before breakfastto-morrow. I've a good mind to send your name up to Westover. "

"I'm awfully sorry, " began Heathcote; "no one told me--"

"I've told you; and if you don't go at once Westover shall hear of it. "

The dormitory, when he reached it, was deserted. Not even Aspinall wasthere; and for a moment Heathcote began again vaguely to suspect a plot. From this delusion, he was, however, speedily relieved by theappearance of a boy, who followed him into the room, and demanded. 

"Look here; what are you up to here?"

"I was--that is, I was told to go to bed, " said Heathcote. 

"Well, and if you were, what business have you got here? Go to your ownden. "

"This is where I slept last night, " said Heathcote, pointing to theidentical bed he had occupied. 

"You did! Like your howling cheek. "

"Where is my bed room then?" asked Heathcote. 

"Why didn't you ask the matron? I'm not going to fag for you. There, in that second door; and take my advice, slip into bed as quick as youcan, unless you want one of the Fifth to catch you, and give you ahundred lines. "

Heathcote whipped up his night-gown and made precipitately for the door, finally convinced that he was in a fair way of getting into a row veryearly in his Templeton career. 

The door opened into a little room about the size of a small ship'scabin, and here he undressed as quickly as he could, in the fadingdaylight, and slipped into bed, inwardly congratulating himself that noone had detected him in the act, and that he had a good prospect, contrary to his expectations, of getting to sleep comfortably. Thethought of the 200 lines, certainly, was unpleasant. But "sufficientunto the day, " thought the philosophic Heathcote. He was far moreconcerned at the fate of the unsuspecting Dick. What would become ofhim, poor fellow?

Amid these reflections he fell peacefully asleep. The next thing he wasconscious of, in what seemed to him the middle of the night, was thesudden removal of the clothes from the bed, and a figure holding alight, catching him by the arm, and demanding fiercely--

"What do you mean by it?"

His first impulse was to smile at the thought that it was only a dream, but he quickly changed his mind, and sat up with his eyes very wide openas the figure repeated--

"What do you mean by it? Get out of this!"

The speaker was a big boy, whom Heathcote, in the midst of hisbewilderment, recognised as having seen at the Fifth-form table in Hall. 

"What's the matter?" faltered the new boy. 

"The matter! you impudent young beggar. Come, get out of this. I'llteach you to play larks with me. Get out of my bed. "

Heathcote promptly obeyed. 

"I didn't know--I was told it was where I was to sleep, " he said. 

"Shut up, and don't tell lies, " said the senior, taking off his slipperand passing his hand down the sole of it. 

"Really I didn't do it on purpose, " pleaded Heathcote. "I was told todo it. "

The case was evidently not one for argument. As Heathcote turned round, the silence of the night hour was broken for some moments by the echoesof that slipper-sole. 

It was no use objecting--still less resisting. So Heathcote bore itlike a man, and occupied his leisure moments during the ceremony inchalking up a long score against his friend the junior. 

"Now, make my bed, " said the executioner when the transaction wascomplete. 

The boy obeyed in silence--wonderfully warm despite the lightness of hisattire. His comfort would have been complete had that junior only beenthere to help him. The Fifth-form boy insisted on the bed being madefrom the very beginning--including the turning of the mattress and theshaking of each several sheet and blanket--so that the process was alengthy one, and, but for the occasional consolations of the slipper, might have become chilly also. 

"Now, clear out, " said the owner of the apartment. 

"Where am I to go?" asked Heathcote, beginning to feel rather forlorn. 

"Out of here!" repeated the senior. 

"I don't--"

The senior took up the slipper again. 

"Please may I take my clothes?" said Heathcote. 

"Are you going or not?"

"Please give me my trou--"

He was on the other side of the door before the second syllable came, and the click of the latch told him that after all he might save hisbreath. 

Heathcote was in a predicament. The corridor was dark, and draughty, and he was far from home; what was he to do? "Three courses, " as thewise man says, "were open to him. " Either he might camp out where hewas, and by the aid of door-mats and carpet extemporise a bed till themorning; or he might commence a demonstration against the door fromwhich he had just been ejected till somebody came and saw him into hisrights--or, failing his rights, into his trousers; or he might commencea house-to-house canvass, up one side of the corridor and down theother, in hopes of finding either an empty chamber or one tenanted by afriend. 

There was a good deal to be said for each, though on the whole hepersonally inclined to the last course. Indeed he went so far as togrope his way to the end of the passage with a view to starting fair, when a sound of footsteps and a white flutter ahead sent his heart tohis mouth, and made him shiver with something more than the eveningbreeze. 

He stood where he was, rooted to the spot, and listened. An awfulsilence seemed to fall upon the place. Had he hit on the Templetonghost?--on the disembodied spirit of some luckless martyr to theferocity of a last century bully? Or, was it an ambuscade prepared forhimself? or, was it some companion in--

Yes! there was a sob, and Heathcote's soul rejoiced as he recognised it. 

"Is that you, young 'un?" he said in a deep whisper. 

The footsteps suddenly ceased, the white flutter stopped, and nextmoment there rose a shriek in the still night air which made allWestover's jump in its sleep, and opened, as if by magic, half the doorsin the long corridor. Aspinall had seen a ghost!

Amid all the airily-clad forms that hovered out to learn the cause ofthe disturbance, Heathcote felt comforted. His one regret was that hewas unable to recognise his friend the junior, in whose debt he was innocturnal garb; but he recognised Dick to his great delight, andhurriedly explained to him as well as to about fifty other enquirers, the circumstances--that is, so much of them as seemed worth repetition. 

Between them they contrived to reassure the terrified Aspinall, who, itturned out, had been the victim of a similar trick to that played onHeathcote. 

"Where are you sleeping?" said the latter to Dick. 

"The old place. Where ever did you get to?"

"I'll tell you. Has any one got my bed there?"

"No. Come on--here, Aspinall, catch hold--look sharp out of thepassage. Are you coming, too, Heathcote?"

To his astonishment, Heathcote darted suddenly from his side and divedin at an open door. Before his friend could guess what he meant, hereturned with a bundle of clothes in his arms, and a triumphant smile onhis face. 

"Hurrah!" said he. "Got 'em at last!"

"Whose are they?" asked Dick. 

"Mine, my boy. By Jove, I _am_ glad to get them again. "

"_Cave_ there! Westover!" called some one near him. And, as if bymagic, the passage was empty in a moment, our heroes being the last toscuttle into their dormitory, with Aspinall between them. 

Dick lay awake for some time that night. He was excited, andconsidered, on the whole, he had made a fair start at Templeton. He hadwon the new boys' race, and he was the whipper-in-elect of the TempletonHarriers. Fellows respected him; possibly a good many of them fearedhim. Certainly, they let him alone. 

"For all that, " meditated he, "it won't do to get cocked up by it. Father said I was to be on my guard against fellows who flattered me, soI must keep my eyes open, or some one will be trying to make a fool ofme. If Cresswell's a nice fellow, I'll have a talk with him to-morrowabout young Aspinall, and see if we can't do anything to give him a legup, poor young beggar. I wonder if I'm an ass to accept the whipping-inso easily? Any how, I suppose I can resign if it's too much grind. Heigho! I'm sleepy. "

CHAPTER SIX. 

HOW OUR HEROES BEGIN TO FEEL AT HOME. 

Heathcote awoke early the next morning with his friend the juniorseriously on his mind. One or two fellows were already dressingthemselves in flannels as he roused himself, amongst others the younghero who had threatened to fight him the evening before. 

"Hallo!" said that young gentleman, in a friendly tone, as if nothingbut the most cordial courtesies had passed between them, "coming down tobathe?"

"All serene, " said Heathcote, not, however, without his suspicions. Ifany one had told him it was a fine morning, he would, in his presentstate of mind, have suspected the words as part of a deep-laid scheme tofool him. But, he reflected, he had not much to fear from this mock-heroic junior, and as long as he kept him in sight no great harm couldhappen. 

"Come on, then, " said the boy, whose name, by the way, was Gosse; "weshall only just have time to do it before chapel. "

"Wait a second, till I tell Dick. He'd like to come, too, " saidHeathcote. 

"What's the use of waking him when he's fagged? Besides, he's got towash and dress his baby, and give him his bottle, so he wouldn't havetime. Aren't you ready?"

"Yes, " said Heathcote, flinging himself into his hardly-regainedgarments. 

The "Templeton Tub, " as the bathing place was colloquially termed, was asmall natural harbour among the rocks at the foot of the cliff on whichthe school stood. It was a picturesque spot at all times; but thisbright spring morning, with the distant headlands lighting up in therising sunlight, and the blue sea heaving lazily among the rocks asthough not yet awake, Heathcote thought it one of the prettiest placeshe had ever seen. 

The "Tub" suited all sorts of bathers. The little timid waders coulddip their toes and splash their hair in the shallow basin in-shore. Themore advanced could wade out shoulder-deep, and puff and flounder withone foot on the ground and the other up above their heads, and deludethe world into the notion they were swimming. For others there was thespring-board, from which to take a header into deep water; and, furtherout still, the rocks rose in ledges, where practised divers could takethe water from any height they liked, from four feet to thirty. Exceptwith leave, no boy was permitted to swim beyond the harbour mouth intothe open. But leave was constantly being applied for, and as constantlygranted; and perhaps every boy, at some time or other, cast wistfulglances at the black buoy bobbing a mile out at sea, and wondered whenhe, like Pontifex and Mansfield, and other of the Sixth, should be ableto wear the image of it on his belt, and call himself a Templeton"shark?"

Heathcote, on his first appearance at the "Tub, " acquitted himselfcreditably. He took a mild header from the spring-board without morethan ordinary splashing, and swam across the pool and back in fairstyle. Gosse, who only went in from the low ledge, and swam half-wayacross and back, was good enough to give him some very good advice, andpromise to make a good swimmer of him in time. Whereat Heathcote lookedgrateful, and wished Dick had been there to astonish some of them. 

One or two of the Fifth, including Swinstead and Birket, arrived as theyoungsters were dressing. 

"Hallo!" said Swinstead to Heathcote, "you here? Where's your chum?"

"Asleep, " said Heathcote, quite pleased to think he should be able totell Dick he had been having a talk with Swinstead that morning. 

"Have you been in?"

"Yes. "

"Can you swim?"

"Yes, a little, " said Gosse, answering for him. "We're about equal. "

Heathcote couldn't stand the barefaced libel meekly. 

"Why, you can't swim once across!" he said, scornfully, "and you can'tgo in off the board!"

The Fifth-form boys laughed. 

"Ha, ha!" said Swinstead, "he's letting you have it, Gossy. "

"He's telling beastly crams, " said Gosse, "and I'll kick him when we getback. "

"I'll swim you across the pool and back, first!" said Heathcote. 

The seniors were delighted. The new boy's spirit pleased them, and theprospect of taking down the junior pleased them still more. 

"That's fair, " said Birket. "Come on, strip. "

Heathcote was ready in a trice. Gosse looked uncomfortable. 

"I'm not going in again, " he said; "I've got a cold. "

"Yes, you are, " replied Birket; "I'll help you. "

This threat was quite enough for the discomfited junior, who slowlydivested himself of his garments. 

"Now then! plenty of room for both of you on the board. "

"No, " said Gosse; "I've not got any cotton wool for my ears. I don'tcare about going in off the board unless I have. "

"That's soon remedied, " said Swinstead, producing some wool from hispocket and proceeding to stuff it into each of the boy's ears. 

Poor Gosse was fairly cornered, and took his place on the board besideHeathcote, the picture of discontent and apprehension. 

"Now then, once across and back. Are you ready?" said Birket, seatinghimself beside his friend on a ledge. 

"No, " said Gosse, looking down at the water and getting off the board. 

"Do you funk it?"

"No. "

"Then go in! Hurry up, or we'll come and help you!"

"I'd--I'd rather go in from the _edge_, " said the boy. 

"You funk the board then?"

The boy looked at the board, then at his tyrants, then at the water. 

"I suppose I do, " said he, sulkily. 

"Then put on your clothes and cut it, " said Swinstead, scornfully. Then, turning to Heathcote, he shouted. "Now then, young 'un, in yougo. "

Heathcote plunged. He was nervous, and splashed more, perhaps, thanusual, but it was a tolerable header, on the whole, for a new boy, andthe spectators were not displeased with the performance or the swimacross the pool and back which followed. 

"All right, " said Swinstead; "stick to it, young un, and turn upregularly. Can your chum swim?"

"Rather!" said Heathcote, taking his head out of the towel. "I wish Icould swim as well as he can. "

"Humph!" said Swinstead, when presently the two Seniors were left tothemselves. "Number Two's modest; Number One's cocky. "

"Therefore, " said Birket, "Number Two will remain Number Two, and numberOne will remain Number One. "

"Right you are, most learned Plato! but I'm curious to see how NumberOne gets out of his friendly call on Cresswell. Think he'll cheek it?"

"Yes; and we shan't hear many particulars from him. "

Birket was right, as he very often was. 

Dick, on waking, was a good deal perplexed, to find his friend absent, and when he heard the reason he was more than perplexed--he was vexed. It wasn't right of Heathcote, or loyal, to take advantage of him in thisway, and he should complain of it. 

Meanwhile he had plenty to occupy his mind in endeavouring to recoverhis "baby's" wardrobe, a quest which, as time went on and the chapelbell began to sound, came to be exciting. 

However, just as he was about to go to the matron and represent to herthe delicate position of affairs, a bundle was thrown in through theventilator over the door, and fell into the middle of the dormitoryfloor. Where it came from there was no time to inquire. 

Aspinall was hustled into his garments as quickly as possible, and thenhustled down the stairs and into chapel just as the bell ceased ringingand the door began to close. 

Heathcote was there among the other new boys, looking rather guilty, aswell he might. The sight of him, with his dripping locks and clearshining face, interfered a good deal with Dick's attention to theservice--almost as much as did the buzz of talk all round him, the opendisorder in the stalls opposite, and the look of undisguised horror onAspinall's face. 

As Dick caught sight of that look his own conscience pricked him, and hemade a vehement effort to recall his wandering mind and fix it on thewords which were being read. He flushed as he saw boys opposite pointhis way and laugh, with hands clasped in mock devotion, and he feltangry with himself, and young Aspinall, and everybody, for laying himopen to the imputation of being a prig. 

He glanced again towards Heathcote. Heathcote was standing with hishands in his pockets looking about him. What business had Heathcote tolook about him when he (Dick) was standing at attention? Why shouldHeathcote escape the jeers of mockers, while he (Dick) had to bear thebrunt of them? It wasn't fair. And yet he wasn't going to put hishands in his pockets and look about him to give them the triumph ofsaying they laughed him into it. No!

So Dick stood steadily and reverently all the service, and was observedby not a few as one of the good ones of whom good things might beexpected. 

When chapel was over fate once more severed him from his chum, anddeferred the explanation to which both were looking forward. 

The matron kidnapped Master Richardson on his way into the house, inorder to call his attention to a serious inconsistency between thenumber of his shirts in his portmanteau, and the number on the inventoryaccompanying them, an inconsistency which Dick was unable to throw anylight on whatever, except that he supposed it must be a mistake, and itdidn't much matter. 

It certainly mattered less than the fact that, owing to this delay, hehad lost his seat next to Heathcote at breakfast, and had to take hisplace at the lowest table, where he could not even see his friend. 

There was great joking during the meal about the escapade in the lobbylast night, the general opinion being that it had been grand sport allround, and that it was lucky the monitors weren't at home at the time. 

"Beastly grind, " said one youngster--"all of them coming back to-day. Afellow can't turn round but they interfere. "

"Are all the Sixth monitors?" asked Dick. 

"Rather, " replied his neighbour, whom Dick discovered afterwards to beno other than Raggles, the hero of the "cargo, " whose fame he had heardthe day before. 

"What's the name of the captain?"

"Oh, Ponty! He doesn't hurt, " said the boy. "It's beasts likeMansfield, and Cresswell, and that lot who come down on you. "

Dick would fain have inquired what sort of fellow Cresswell was, but hewas too anxious not to let the affair of the whipper-in leak out, andrefrained. He asked a few vague questions about the Sixth generally, and gathered from his companion that, with a very few exceptions, theywere all "beasts" in school, that one or two of them were rather good atcricket, and swimming, and football, and that the monitorial system atTempleton, and at all other public schools, required revision. Fromwhich Dick argued shrewdly that Master Raggles sometimes got into rows. 

By the time he had made this discovery the bell rang for first school, and there was a general movement to the door. 

The two chums foregathered in the hall. 

"Pity you weren't up in time for a bathe, " said Heathcote, artfullysecuring the first word. 

"I heard you went. Too much fag getting up so early. I mean to go downin the afternoon, when most of the fellows turn up. "

"Swinstead and Birket were there. I wish you'd been there. "

"Not worth the grind. You can come with me this afternoon, if you like. Some of the 'sharks' will be down as well. "

Heathcote began to discover he had done a foolish thing; and when hefound his friend launching the "sharks" at his head in this familiar wayhe felt it was no use holding out any longer. 

"It was awfully low of me not to call you this morning, " said he, "butyou looked so fast asleep, you know. "

"So I was, " said Dick, unbending. "I'm glad you didn't rout me up, forI was regularly fagged last night. "

"What time will you be going this afternoon?"

"Depends. I've got to see one of the Sixth as soon as he turns up, butthat won't take long. "

Heathcote retired routed. His friend was too many for him. He(Heathcote) had no one bigger than Swinstead and Birket to impress hisfriend with. Dick had "sharks, " and behind them "one of the Sixth. "What was the use of opposing himself to such odds?

"Wait for us, won't you?" was all he could say; and next moment theywere at their respective desks, and school had begun. 

Dick's quick ears caught the sound of cabs in the quadrangle and thenoise of luggage in the hall while school was going on, and his mindbecame a little anxious as the prospect of his coming interview loomednearer before him. He hoped Cresswell was a jolly fellow, and thatthere would be no one else in his study when he went to call upon him. He had carefully studied the geography of his fortress, so he knewexactly where to go without asking any one, which was a blessing. 

As soon as class was over he made his way to the matron's room. 

"Do you know if Cresswell has come yet, please. "

"Yes, what do you want with him?"

"Oh! nothing, " said Dick dissembling, "I only wanted to know. "

And he removed himself promptly from the reach of further questions. 

Little dreaming of the visit with which he was to be so shortlyhonoured, Cresswell, the fleetest foot and the steadiest head inTempleton, was complacently unpacking his goods and chattels in theprivacy of his own study. He wasn't sorry to get back to Templeton, forhe was fond of the old place, and the summer term was always thejolliest of the year. There was cricket coming on, and lawn tennis, andthe long evening runs, and the early morning dips. And there was plentyof work ahead in the schools too, and the prospect of an exhibition atMidsummer, if only Freckleton gave him the chance. 

Altogether the Sixth-form athlete was in a contented frame of mind, ashe emptied his portmanteau and tossed his belongings into theirrespective quarters. 

So intent was he on his occupation, that it was a full minute before hebecame aware of a small boy standing at his open door, and tappingmodestly. As he looked up and met the eyes of the already doubtfulDick, both boys inwardly thought, "I rather like that fellow"--aconclusion which, as far as Dick was concerned, made it still moredifficult for him to broach the subject of his mission. 

Cresswell was still kneeling down, so it was impossible to form anopinion of his legs, but his arms and shoulders certainly did not looklike those of a "snail. "

"What do you want, youngster?" said Cresswell. 

"Oh, " said Dick, screwing himself up to the pitch, "Swinstead told me tocome to you. "

"Oh, " said the other, in a tone of great interest, "what about?"

"About the--I mean--something about the--the Harriers, " said Dick, suddenly beginning to see things in a new light. 

"About the Harriers?" said Cresswell, rising to his feet and lounging upagainst the mantel-piece, in order to take a good survey of his visitor. "What does Mr Swinstead want; to know about the Harriers?"

The sight of the champion there, drawn up to his full height, with powerand speed written on every turn of his figure, sent Dick's mind jumping, at one bound, to the truth. What an ass he had been going to make ofhimself, and what a time he would have had if he hadn't found out thetrick in time! As it was, he could not help laughing at the idea of hisown ridiculous position, and the narrow escape he had had. 

"What are you grinning at?" said Cresswell sharply, not understandingthe little burst of merriment in his presence. 

Dick recovered himself, and said simply, "They've been trying to make afool of me. I beg your pardon for bothering you. "

"Hold hard!" said Cresswell, as the boy was about to retreat. "It'svery likely they have made a fool of you--they're used to hard work. But you're not going to make a fool of me. Come in and tell me allabout it. "

Dick coloured up crimson, and threw himself on the monitor's mercy. 

"You'll think me such an ass, " said he, appealingly. "It's reallynothing. "

"I do think you an ass already, " said the senior, "so, out with it. "

Whereupon Dick, blushing deeply, told him the whole story in a way whichquite captivated the listener by its artlessness. 

"They said you were an awful muff, and couldn't run any faster than asnail, you know, "--began he--"and as I had pulled off the new boys'race, they said they'd make me Whipper-in of the Harriers instead ofyou, and told me to come and tell you so, and ask you to _give_ me thewhip. "

Cresswell laughed in spite of himself. 

"Do you really want it?" he asked. 

"Not now, thank you. "

"I suppose you'd been swaggering after you'd won the race, and theywanted to take the conceit out of you?"

"Yes, I suppose so. "

"And have they succeeded?"

"Well--yes, " said Dick. "I think they have. "

"Then, they've done you a very good turn, my boy, and you'll be gratefulto them some day. As for the whip, you can tell them if they'll comehere for it, I'll give it to them with pleasure. There goes the dinnerbell--cut off, or you'll be late. "

"Thanks, Cresswell. I suppose, " said the boy, lingering a moment at thedoor, "you won't be obliged to tell everybody about it?"

"You can do that better than I can, " said the Sixth-form boy, laughing. 

And Dick felt, as he hurried down to Hall, that he was something morethan well out of it. Instead of meeting the fate which his own conceithad prepared, he had secured a friend at court, who, something told him, would stand by him in the coming term. His self-esteem had had a fall, but his self-respect had had a decided lift; for he felt now that hewent in and out under inspection, and that Cresswell's good opinion wasa distinction by all means to be coveted. 

As a token of his improved frame of mind, he made frank confession ofthe whole story to Heathcote during dinner; and found his friend, as heknew he would be, brimful of sympathy and relief at his narrow escape. 

Swinstead and Birket, as they watched their man from their distanttable, were decidedly perplexed by his cheerful demeanour, and full ofcuriosity to learn the history of the interview. 

They waylaid him casually in the court that afternoon. 

"Well, have you settled it?" said Birket. 

"Eh? Oh, yes, it's all right, " replied Dick, rather enjoying himself. 

"He made no difficulty about it, did he?"

"Not a bit. Jolly as possible. "

It was not often that two Fifth-form boys at Templeton feltuncomfortable in the presence of a new junior, but Swinstead and Birketcertainly did feel a trifle disconcerted at the coolness of their youngvictim. 

"You told him we sent you?"

"Rather. He was awfully obliged. "

"Was he? And did he give you the whip?"

"No, he hadn't got it handy. But I told him he could give it to you twonext time he met you--and he's going to. "

And to the consternation of his patrons the new boy walked off, whistling sweetly to himself and watching attentively the flight of therooks round the school tower. 

"Old man, we shall have some trouble with Number One, " said Swinstead, laughing. 

"Yes, we've caught a Tartar for once, " said Birket. "You and I mayretire into private life for a bit, I fancy. "

CHAPTER SEVEN. 

A GENERAL ELECTION. 

The return of the Sixth, our heroes discovered, made a wonderful changein the school life of Templeton. The Fifth, who always made the bestuse of their two day's authority while they had it, retired almostmysteriously into private life in favour of their betters. All schoolsports, and gatherings, and riots had to depend no longer upon the sweetwill of those who sported, or gathered, or rioted, but on the pleasureof the monitors. The school societies and institutions began to wake upafter their holiday, and generally speaking the wheels of Templetonwhich, during the first two days had bumped noisily over the cobbles, got at last on to the lines, and began to spin round at their accustomedpace. 

In no part of the school was this change more felt than among thejuniors. They liked being off the line now and then, and they alwaysrebelled when the iron hand of the law picked them up and set them backon the track. It wasn't only that they couldn't run riot, and makeTempleton a bear-garden. That was bad enough. But in addition to that, they had to fag for the Sixth, and after a week or two of liberty thereturn to servitude is always painful. 

"You kids, " said Raggles, two days after the return of the Sixth, "mindyou show up at Den after Elections this evening. "

"What is Den, and who are Elections?" asked Dick. 

"What, don't you know? Awful green lot of new kids you are. Electionsis after tea in the hall, and Den's directly after that. "

Raggles was very much affronted, when, after this lucid explanation, Dick again enquired--

"What do you mean by Den and Elections?"

"Look here, what a howling idiot you must be if you've got to be toldhalf a dozen times. I'll spell it for you if you like. "

"All serene, " said Heathcote. "Two to one you come a cropper overElections. "

"Who do they elect?" asked Dick. 

"Why, everybody, of course. The captains of the clubs, and all that. Hang it, you'll be there. What's the use of fagging to tell you?"

"And what about the Den? Who lives in it?"

"Look here! I shall lick you, Richardson, if you go on like that. Yougreen kids are a lot too cheeky. "

And the offended envoy went off in a huff, leaving his hearers in astate of excited uncertainty as to the nature of the ceremony to whichtheir company had been invited. 

As the reader may like to have a rather more definite explanation thanthat afforded by Mr Raggles, let him know that unlike most publicschools, the school year at Templeton began after the Easter holidays, instead of after the summer holidays. The new boys came up then for themost part (though a few "second chances, " as they were called, straggledin in the autumn term), and the various appointments to offices ofhonour and duty, the inauguration of the clubs, and the apportionment ofthe fags always formed an interesting feature of the new term. Thewhole of the business was transacted in a mass meeting of the school, known by the name of "Elections, " where, under the solemn auspices ofthe Sixth, Templeton was invited to pick out its own rulers, and settleits own programme for the ensuing year. 

Elections, as a rule, passed off harmoniously, the school acquiescing onmost points in the recommendations of the Sixth, and, except on mattersof great excitement, rarely venturing to lift up its voice inopposition. The juniors, however, generally contrived to have theirfling, usually on the question of fagging, which being a recognisedinstitution at Templeton, formed a standing bone of contention. And, aspart of the business of Elections was the solemn drawing of lots for newboys to fill the vacancies caused by removal or promotion, theopportunity generally commended itself as a fit one for some littledemonstration. 

The Juniors' Den at Templeton, that is, the popular assembly of thoseyouthful Templetonians who had not yet reached the dignity of the FourthForm, had always been the most radical association in the school. Though they differed amongst themselves in most things, they were as oneman in denouncing fagging and monitors. Their motto was--down withboth; and it pleased them not a little to discover that though theiragitation did little good in the way of reforming Templeton, it servedto keep their "Den" well before the school, and sometimes to causeanxiety in high places. 

Such was the state of school politics at Templeton, when Dick andHeathcote obeyed the summons to attend their first Elections, on thefirst Saturday of the new term. 

They found the Great Hall crowded with benches, rather like chapel, witha raised dais at the upper end for the Sixth, a long table in front forthe 'reporters, ' and the rest of the space divided into clusters ofseats, occupied by members of the various school organisationsrepresented. Of these clusters, by far the largest was that devoted tothe accommodation of the Den, towards which our heroes, actively pilotedby Raggles and Gosse, and a few kindred spirits, were conducted instate, just as the proceedings were about to begin. 

"Come and squash up in the corner, " said Raggles; "we're well behind, and shan't be seen if we want to shine. "

"Shine, " as our heroes discovered in due time, was a poetical way ofexpressing what in commonplace language would be called, "kicking up ashine. "

"Shall you cheer Ponty?" asked Gosse of his friend. 

"Rather. He's a muff. I shall howl at Mansfield, though, andCresswell. "

"I shan't howl at Cresswell, " said Dick boldly. 

"Why not? He's a beast. You'll get kicked, if you don't, I say. "

"I suppose they'll make him Whipper-in again, " said another boy nearthem. Dick looked uncomfortable for a moment. But the indifferentlooks on his neighbours' faces convinced him the story had not yetreached the Den. 

"Cazenove thinks _he_ ought to get it, " said Gosse, amid a generallaugh, for Cazenove was almost as round as he was high. "Shall I putyou up, old man? Hullo, here they come! There's Ponty. Clap up, youfellows. "

A big cheer greeted Pontifex, the captain of the school, as he strolledon to the dais, and took the chair of state. 

The new boys eyed him curiously. He was a burly, good-humoured, easy-going fellow, with an "anything for a quiet life" look about him, as hestretched himself comfortably in his seat, and looked placidly round thehall. The cheering had very little effect on his composure. Indeed, hemay not have taken in that it was intended for him at all; for he tookno notice of it, and appeared to be quite as much amused at the noise asany one else. 

A great contrast to Pontifex was Mansfield, the vice-captain, who, withquick eye, and cool, determined mouth, sat next, and eyed the scene likea general who parades his forces and waits to give them the word ofcommand. Like Pontifex, he seemed but little concerned, either with thecheers of his friends or the few howls of his mutinous juniors. He wasused to noises, and they made very little difference to him one way oranother. Cresswell, on the contrary, seemed decidedly pleased, whencheers and cries of "Well run!" greeted his appearance; and most of theother monitors--Cartwright, the quick-tempered, warm-hearted Templetonfootball captain; Freckleton, the studious "dark man;" Bull, the"knowing one, " with his horse-shoe pin; Pledge, the smirking "spider;"of the Sixth, and others--seemed to set no little store by the receptionthe school was pleased to accord them. 

At last all were in their places, the door was shut--a traditionalprecaution against magisterial invasion--and Pontifex lounged to hisfeet. 

"Well, you fellows, " said he, with a pleasant smile and in a pleasantvoice, "here we are again at another Election. We're always glad to seeone another after the holidays--at least I am (cheers)--and I hope we'vegot a good year coming on. They tell me I'm captain of Templeton thisyear. (Laughter and cheers. ) I can tell you I'm proud of it, and onlywish I wasn't going to Oxford in the autumn. (Cheers and cries of'Don't go. ') The comfort is, you'll have a rattling good captain inMansfield when I'm gone. (Cheers and a few howls. ) I don't wonder someof the young 'uns howl, for he'll make some of you sit up, which I couldnever do. (Great laughter among the Seniors, and signs of dissension inthe Den. ) But I've not got to make a speech. There's a lot ofbusiness. The first thing is the cricket captain. There's only one manfit for that, and I won't go through the farce of proposing him. Thosewho say Mansfield's the right man for cricket captain, hold up yourhands. "

A forest of hands went up, for even the malcontents who didn't approveof Mansfield as a monitor had nothing to say against his cricket, whichwas about as perfect as any that had been seen in the Templeton fieldsfor a dozen years. 

With similar unanimity Cresswell was re-elected Whipper-in of theHarriers, and no one held up his hand more enthusiastically for him thandid Dick, who shuddered to think how he could ever have imagined himselfon such a lofty pedestal. 

Then followed in quick succession elections to the other high offices ofstate in Templeton--Cartwright to the football captaincy, Bull to thekeepership of the fives and tennis, Freckleton to be warden of theport--a sinecure office, supposed to imply some duties connected withthe "Tub, " but really only the relic of some ancient office handed downfrom bygone generations, and piously retained by a conservativeposterity. 

All these were re-elections and passed off without opposition, and as amatter of course. 

When, however, Pontifex announced that the office of Usher of the Chapelwas vacant, the duties of which were to mark the attendance of all boysand present weekly reports of their punctuality, and proceeded tonominate Pledge for the post, the first symptoms of opposition showedthemselves, much to the delight of the Den. 

"I move an amendment to that, " said Birket, looking a little nervous, but evidently in earnest. "I don't think Pledge is the proper man. (Cheers. ) I don't like him myself--(loud cheers)--and I don't think I'mvery fastidious. (Great applause from the Den. ) We want an honest, reliable man--(hear, hear)--who'll keep our scores without fear orfavour. (Applause. ) You needn't think I'm saying this for a lark. I'mpretty sure to catch it, but I don't care; I'll say what I think. (Cries of 'We'll back you up, ' and cheers. ) You're not obliged to havea monitor to be Usher of the Chapel, and I propose Swinstead beappointed. "

Birket sat down amid loud cheers. It had been a plucky thing for him todo, and very few would have undertaken so ungracious a task; but, now hehad undertaken it, the meeting was evidently with him. 

"Everybody here, " said Pontifex, "as long as he's in order, has a rightto express his opinion without fear. Two names have now been proposed--Pledge and Swinstead. Any more?"

No one broke the silence. 

"Then I'll put up Swinstead first. Who votes for Swinstead?"

Everybody, apparently. The Den, to a man, and the Middle schoolscarcely less unanimously. 

"Now for Pledge. "

About a dozen, including Bull and one or two of the Sixth, a select fewamong the juniors, and a certain unwholesome-looking clique among theFourth and Fifth. 

It rather surprised our heroes to notice that Pledge, so far fromappearing mortified by his reverse, took it with a decidedly amiablesmile, which became almost grateful as it beamed into the corner whereBirket and Swinstead, both flushed with excitement, sat. 

"By Jingo! I wouldn't be those two for a lot!" said Raggles. 

"Now _I_ think Pledge takes it very well, " said Heathcote. 

Whereat there was a mighty laugh in the Den as the joke passed round, and the phenomenon of the "green new kid" blushing scarlet all overattracted general curiosity, and stopped the proceedings for severalminutes. 

As soon as order was restored, other elections were proceeded with, including the school librarian and the post fag, the duty of whichlatter office was to distribute the letters which came by the post totheir respective owners. For this office there was always greatcompetition, each "set" being anxious to get one of its own members, onwhom it could depend. 

The contest this year lay between Pauncefote, of Westover's, andDuffield of Purbeck's, and ever since the term opened canvassing hadbeen going on actively on behalf of the respective candidates. I regretto say the laws relating to elections at Templeton were not as rigid asthose which regulate public elections generally, and bribery andcorruption were no name for some of the unscrupulous practices resortedto by the friends of either party to secure a vote. If a small boyventured to express so much as a doubt as to his choice, his arm wouldbe seized by the canvassing party and screwed till the required pledgewas given. And woe to that small boy if an hour later the other sidecaught him by the other arm and begged the favour of his vote for theirman! Nothing short of perjury would keep his arm in its socket. Norwas it once or twice only that the youth of Templeton would be made toforswear itself over the election of post fag. Several times a day thesame luckless voter might be made to yield up his promise, until, at theend of a week, he would become too confused and weary to recollect forwhich side his word of honour had last been given. Nor did it muchmatter, for his vote in Hall depended entirely on the company nearestwithin reach of his arm; and if, by some grim fatality, he should chanceto get with one arm towards each party, the effort of recording his votewas likely to prove one of the most serious undertakings of his mortallife. 

Our heroes, luckily for them, found themselves planted in the midst ofPauncefote's adherents, so that they experienced no difficulty at all inmaking up their minds how they should vote. They either did not see ordid not notice a few threatening shouts and pantomimic gesturesaddressed to them by some of Duffield's supporters in a remote corner ofthe room, and held up their hands for his opponent with the clearconscience of men who exercise a mighty privilege fearlessly. 

"Stick up both hands, " said Gosse. "We shall be short. "

"It wouldn't be fair, " said Dick, boldly. 

"Howling prig!" said Gosse, in disgust, "canting young hypocrite; you'llget it hot, I can tell you, if--"

"Shut up!" shouted Dick, rounding on him with a fierceness whichastonished himself. It was a show to see the way in which Gossecollapsed under this thunderclap of righteous indignation. He lookedround at Dick out of the corners of his eyes, very much as a small dogcontemplates the boot that has just helped him half-way across the road, and positively forgot to keep his own grimy hand raised aloft till thecounting was finished. 

"Pauncefote has 108 votes. Now those who are in favour of Duffield?"

There was great excitement, and no little uproar, as the rival partymade their show. Cries of, "Cheat! both hands up!" rose from theshocked adherents of Pauncefote; and a good deal of quiet service, inholding the arms of weaklings down to their sides, was rendered on thefrontier. Finally, it was found that Duffield had in votes; whereatthere were tremendous cheers and counter-cheers, not unmixed withrecriminations, and imputations and threats, which promised our heroes alively time of it when finally they adjourned to the Den. 

Before that happened, however, a solemn ceremony had to be gone through, in which they were personally interested. The chairman read out a listof new boys, and ordered them to answer to their names, and come forwardon to the platform. It was a nervous ordeal, even for the most self-composed, to be thus publicly trotted out in the presence of allTempleton, and to hear the derisive cheers with which his name andappearance were greeted as he obeyed. 

"Look at his legs!" cried one, as Dick, inwardly hoping he was making afavourable impression, passed up the hall and mounted the steps. Whereupon Dick suddenly became conscious of his lower limbs--which, bythe way, were as straight and tight a pair of shanks as any boy offourteen could boast--and tried to hide them behind a chair. 

"I can see them still!" cried a shrill voice, just as he thought he hadsucceeded; and poor Dick, who, an hour ago, had almost forgotten he wasa new boy, had to endure a storm of laughter, and look as much at hisease as he could, while all Templeton mounted on chairs, and stretchedits necks to catch a glimpse of his unfortunate legs. 

Heathcote came in for a similar trial on account of his blushes, andpoor Aspinall positively staggered, and finally broke down underallusions to the "bottle, " and "soothing syrup, " and "mamma" and "sisterLottie. "

The Sixth had the sense not to attempt to quell the disorder till it hadhad a fair chance of blowing itself off. Then Pontifex ordered thenames to be put into a hat, and handed round for each of the monitors todraw. Each monitor accordingly drew, and announced the name of hisfuture fag. In the first round Heathcote's name and Aspinall's bothcame up--the former, much to his disgust, falling to the lot of Pledge, the latter to that of Cresswell. Dick boiled with excitement as the hatstarted on its second round. Suppose he, too, should fall to the lot ofa cad like Pledge, or a brute like Bull! Or, oh blissful notion!suppose Cresswell should draw him, too, as well as Aspinall. 

The hat started; Pontifex drew a stranger; so did Mansfield. ThenCresswell drew, and, with a bound of delight, Dick heard his own name, and marked the gleam of pleasure which crossed his new master's face ashe turned towards him. He forgot all about his legs, he even missedHeathcote's doleful look of disappointment, or the thankful sigh ofyoung Aspinall. He felt as if something good had happened to him, andas if his star were still in the ascendant. 

At the end of the Elections a cry of "three groans for fagging!" wasproposed by some member of the Den, who took care to keep himself wellconcealed, and, as usual, was lustily responded to by all the interestedparties. Which little demonstration being over, Pontifex announced thatthe meeting was over, and that "captain's levee" would be held on thatday week at 5:30. 

Our heroes were promptly kidnapped, as they descended from the platform, by the emissaries of the Den, who hurried them off to the sereneatmosphere of that dignified assembly, where, for an hour or more, theytook part in denouncing everybody and everything, and assisted in anoble flow of patriotic eloquence on the duty of the oppressed towardsthe oppressor, and the slave towards his driver. The Sixth, meanwhile, rather glad to have Elections over, strolled off to their own quarters. 

"More row than ever this year, " said Mansfield, as he followed Cresswellinto his study. "Ponty's too easy-going. "

"I don't know. If you keep them in too tight they'll burst. I thinkhe's right to give them some play. "

"Well, perhaps you're right, Cress; but I'm afraid I shan't be as easywith them as Ponty. My opinion is, that if you give them an inchthey'll take an ell. By the way, that was a queer thing about Pledge. Did you expect it?"

"No, but I'm not surprised. He's a low cad--poor Forbes owed hisexpulsion last term to him, I'm positive. He simply set himself to draghim down, and he did it. "

"Pity he's such a good bowler, one's bound to keep him in the eleven, and the fellows always swear by the eleven. By the way, I hear we haveour work cut out for us at Grandcourt this year. They're a hot lot, andwe play them on their own ground this time. "

"Oh, we shall do it, if only Ponty will wake up. "

These two enthusiasts for the good of Templeton would have been a gooddeal afflicted had they seen what the burly captain of the school wasdoing at that moment. 

He was sitting in his easy-chair, the picture of comfort, with his feetup on the window-ledge, reading "Pickwick, " and laughing as he read. Nosign of care was on his brow, and apparently no concern for Templetonwas weighing on his mind; and even when a fag entered and brought him upa list of names of boys requiring his magisterial correction, he orderedhim to put it on the table, and never even glanced at it for the nexthour. 

Pontifex, it is true, did not do himself justice. He passed for evenmore easy-going than he was, and when he did choose to make an effort--few fellows could better deal with the duties that fell to his lot. But, unfortunately, he didn't make the effort often enough either forthe good of Templeton or his own credit. 

He was getting to the end of his chapter when the door opened again, andPledge entered. 

"Hallo, " said the captain, looking up after a bit, "you came a cropper, I say, this afternoon. What have you been up to?"

"That's what I came to ask you, " said Pledge, with an amiable smile. 

"Goodness knows! I was as much surprised as you. You know, between youand me, I don't think you did Forbes much good last term. "

"Quite a mistake. I befriended him when everybody else was cutting him. He told me when he left I was the only friend he had here. "

"A good friend?" asked Pontifex, looking hard at his man. 

"Really, Ponty, you don't improve in your manners, " said Pledge, with aslightly embarrassed laugh. 

"No offence, old man, " said the captain. "But, seriously, don't youthink you might do a little more good, or even a little less well, harm, you know, in Templeton than you do?"

"Most noble captain, we must see what can be done, " said Pledge, colouring a trifle, as he left the room. 

"I've lost my pull on him, I suppose, " said the captain, taking up his"Pickwick. "

"By Jove! I wish I could make up my mind to kick him!"

CHAPTER EIGHT. 

IN WHICH HEATHCOTE BECOMES INTERESTING. 

Pledge was a type of fellow unfortunately not uncommon in some publicschools, whom it is not easy to describe by any other word thandangerous. To look at him, to speak to him, to hear him, the ordinaryobserver would notice very little to single him out from fifty otherboys of the same age and condition. He was clever, good-humoured, andobliging, he was a fine cricketer and lawn tennis player, he was rarelyovertaken in any breach of school rules and he was decidedly lenient inthe use of his monitorial authority. 

For all that, fellows steered clear of him, or, when they came acrosshim, felt uncomfortable till they could get out of his way. There wereugly stories about the harm he had done to more than one promisingsimple-minded young Templetonian in days past who had had the ill-luckto come under his influence. And although, as usual, such stories wereexaggerated, it was pretty well-known why this plausible small boys'friend was called "spider" by his enemies, who envied no one who fellinto his web. 

Heathcote accordingly came in for very little congratulation thatevening after Elections when he was formally sworn in to the Den as the"spider's" fag and was thoroughly frightened by the stories he heard andthe still more alarming mysterious hints that were dropped for hisbenefit. 

However, like a philosopher as he was, he determined to enjoy himselfwhile he could, and therefore entered with spirit into the livelyproceedings of that evening's Den. 

That important institution was, our heroes discovered, by no means anassembly of one idea. Although its leading motive might be said to bedisorder, it existed for other purposes as well; as was clearly setforth in the articles of admission administered to each new boy onjoining its honourable company. 

Terrible and sweeping were the "affirmations" each Denite was requiredto make on the top of a crib to Caesar's Commentaries. 

(1) "I promise to stick by every chap of the Den whenever I am calledupon. "

(2) "I promise never to sneak, or tell tales of any chap of the Den, under any circumstances. "

(3) "I promise never to fag for anybody more than I can possibly help. "

(4) "I promise to do all I can to make myself jolly to the Den. "

(5) "If I break any of these rules, I promise to let myself be kickedall round by the chaps of the Den, as long as I am able to stand it. "

Our heroes and young Aspinall were called upon solemnly to subscribe toeach of these weighty promises, under threat of the most awful vengeanceif they refused. And, as it seemed to each he might safely venture onthe promise required, they went dutifully through the ceremony, and hadthe high privilege of exercising their new rights, ten minutes later, inkicking a couple of recalcitrant Denites, one of whom, as it happened, was the high-minded Mr Gosse, who had been detected in the act oftelling tales to a monitor of one of his companions. 

Mr Gosse availed himself on this occasion of the last clause of Rule 5, and lay down on the ground, after the first kick. He was, however, persuaded to resume his feet, and finally had the inward satisfaction offeeling that he had obeyed the requirements of the rule to the utmost. 

This little matter of business being disposed of, and the usualpatriotic speeches having been delivered, the Den, which was nothing ifit was not original, proceeded to its elections--a somewhat tediousceremony, which it was very difficult for a stranger to understand. 

A vicious-looking youth, called Culver, was elected president of theclub, Pauncefote (the rejected post fag) and Smith were appointedtreasurers, and, greatly to the surprise of the new boys, but of no oneelse, Mr Gosse, still barely recovered from his loyalty to Rule 5, waselected secretary, and made a very amiable and highly-applauded speech, in returning thanks for the compliment paid to him. 

After this, the Den resolved itself into a social gathering, and becamerather tedious. 

Dick was interrupted in a yawn by Messrs. Pauncefote and Smith, whopolitely waited upon him for his subscription, a request which Culver, as president, and Gosse, as secretary, were also in attendance to seecomplied with. 

"How much?" said Dick. 

"Threepence, " said Smith, but was instantly jostled by a violent nudgefrom Gosse. 

"How much tin have you got?" demanded that official. 

Dick, who had long ere this lost any reverence he might be expected toentertain towards the secretary of the Den, replied:

"Threepence. "

"Howling cram!" observed Gosse. "I know you've more than that. "

"Ah! you've been putting your hands in my pockets then?"

Whereat there was a mighty cheer, and the Den was called to order tohear the joke, which it did with genuine merriment; and then and therepassed a resolution unanimously, requesting Mr Gosse once more tocomply with Rule 5. That young gentleman got out of it this time bymaking a public apology, and in no way abashed by the incident, proceeded to attend the treasurers during the remainder of theirbusiness circuit. Culver stayed behind, and said to Dick:--

"Awfully well you shut him up. I say, by the way, I suppose you don'twant a knife, do you?"

"Yes, I do. Have you got one?"

"Rather! but I'd sooner have a dog's-head pin instead. I suppose you'venot got one. "

Considering that Dick's dog's-head pin, the gift of his particular aunt, was all this time within a few inches of Culver's nose, the inquiry wasdecidedly artless. 

"Yes, I have, " said Dick, pointing to his scarf; "a jolly one, too. "

"How'd you like to swop?"

"Let's see the knife, " replied the business-like Dick. 

Culver produced the knife. Rather a sorry weapon, as regarded its chiefblades. But it had a saw, and a gouge to remove stones from one's boot. 

"It's a jolly fine knife, " said Culver, seeing that it was alreadymaking an impression; "and I'd be sorry to part with it. "

Dick mused on the weapon, and lightly rubbed his chin against his aunt'sdog's-head. 

"All right, " said he, putting the knife into his pocket, and slowlypulling out the pin. His conscience half smote him, as he saw histreasure being transferred to Culver's scarf. But he was too proud totry to revoke his bargain, and consoled himself as best he could byfondling the knife in his pocket, and thinking how useful the gougewould be. 

Before the evening was over he made the discovery that "swopping" was afavourite pastime of the leisure hours of the Den. He was startled atone period of the evening to notice Heathcote's steel chain adorning thewaistcoat of Gosse, and an hour later to find it in the possession ofRaggles, who came over to Dick with it, and asked casually. 

"I suppose you wouldn't care to swop a knife for this?"

Dick was proof against the temptation. He didn't want a steel chain. But he wished Culver would be moved to transfer the dog's-head to someone who wanted a knife. That, however, Culver did not do. He seemed, as indeed his experience in business justified him in being, a goodjudge of a good bargain; and stuck very faithfully to his new pin, inspite of a considerable number of offers. 

After joining in a few songs the airs of which were somewhat vague, theDen adjourned. As its proceedings had consisted in an uninterrupteduproar for two consecutive hours, the new boys, none of whom wereseasoned to it, were all more or less tired. 

Poor young Aspinall, in particular, was very tired. He had had a roughtime of it; and had tremblingly complied with every demand any one choseto make of him. He had parted with all his available "swoppable" goods;he had stood on a form and sung little hymns to a derisive audience; hehad answered questions as to his mother, his sister, and other membersof his family; he had endured buffeting and kicks, till he was fairlyworn out, and till it ceased to be amusing to torment him. 

When finally he was released, and found himself on his way to thedormitory, under Dick's sheltering wing, he broke down. 

"I wish I was dead, " he said, miserably, "it's awful here. "

"Don't talk like that, " said Dick, a trifle impatiently, for with allhis good heart he got tired of the boy's perpetual tears. "You'll getused to it soon. Haven't you got any pluck in you?"

"It's all very well for you, " said the boy; "fellows seem to let youalone, and not care to touch you; but they see I can't stand up formyself. "

"More shame if they do, " said Dick bluntly; "I don't believe you whenyou say so. I call it cant. How do you know? You can't tell till youtry. "

"Oh, don't be angry, please, " said the boy. "I know you are right; Ireally will try, if you stick up for me. "

"Never mind me, " said Dick, getting into bed. 

Aspinall did not pursue the topic; but as he lay awake that night, feeling his heart jump at every footstep and word in the room, he madethe most desperate and heroic resolves to become a perfect griffin toall Templeton. For all that, he also nearly made up his mind to stealout of bed and peep from the window, to see if there were anypossibility of escaping home, while Templeton slept, to Devonshire. 

The new boys all obeyed the summons of the half-past-six bell nextmorning with nervous alacrity. For it was something more than a merecall to shake off "dull sloth"--it was a reminder that they were fags, and that their masters lay in bed depending on them to rouse them intime for morning chapel. 

The old fags smiled to see the feverish haste with which the new onesflung themselves into their garments, and started each on his rousingmission. These veterans had had their day of the same sort of thing. Now they knew better, and as long as they could continue occasionally tobe found by their seniors with a duster in their hands, or toasting apiece of bread before the fire, the "new brooms" could be left to do allthe other work, for which the old ones reaped the credit. 

Heathcote, with very dismal forebodings, knocked at Pledge's door. 

"It's time to get up, please, " said he. 

"All right. Fetch me some hot water, will you? and brush my laceboots. "

Heathcote, as he started off to fetch the water, thought that the voiceof his new master was certainly not as repulsive as he had been led byhis numerous sympathisers to expect. 

"However, " said he to himself, "you can't always judge of a fellow byhis voice. "

Which was very true, as he found immediately afterwards, when, as he waskneeling down at the tap, trying to coax the last few drops of hot waterinto his can, a voice behind him said--

"Look sharp, you fellow, don't drink it all up, " and he looked up andsaw Dick, and Dick's can, bound on the same errand as his own. 

"Hallo, " he said, "you won't find much left. "

"You'll have to give me some of yours then, " said Dick. 

"I can't, I've only got half a can-full as it is. "

"But Cresswell sent me, I tell you. "

"And Pledge sent me. "

"Pooh! He doesn't matter. He's a beast. Come, go halves, old man. "

Of course Heathcote went halves, and enquired as he did so whether Dickhad got any boots to clean. 

"I've put the young 'un on to that, " said Dick, rather grandly. "I lefthim crying on them just now. "

"How many fags has Cresswell got?"

"Us two, " said Dick, "at least I've not seen any more. "

"I believe I'm the only one Pledge has got. "

"Poor beggar! Thanks, Georgie. Get next to me at chapel. "

And the two friends went each his own way. 

Pledge seemed, on the whole, agreeably surprised to get as much as aquarter of a can of hot water; and Heathcote, as he polished up the laceboots, felt he had begun well. His new master said little or nothing tohim, as he put the study tidy, arranged the books, and got out the cupand saucer and coffee-pot ready for the senior's breakfast. 

"Is there anything else?" he asked as the chapel bell began to toll. 

"No, that's all just now. You can come and clear up after breakfast, and if you've got nothing to do after morning school, you can come andtake a bat down at the nets, while I bowl. "

At the very least Heathcote had expected to be horrified, when thisterrible ogre did speak, by a broadside of bad language; and he feltquite bewildered as he recalled the brief conversation and detected init not a single word which could offend anybody. On the contrary, everything had been most proper and considerate, and the last invitationcoming from a first eleven man to his new fag was quite gratuitouslyfriendly. 

"I don't think he's so bad, " he remarked to Dick, as they went fromchapel to breakfast. 

"All I know is, " said Dick, "Cresswell was asking me if it was my chumwho had been drawn by Pledge, and when I told him, he told me I mightsay to you, from him, that you had better be careful not to get toochummy with the 'spider;' and the less you hang about his study thebetter. I don't think Cresswell would say a thing like that unless hemeant it. "

"I dare say not, " said Heathcote. "But I wish to goodness some onewould say what it all means. I can't make it out. "

After breakfast he repaired to his lord's study, and cleared the table. 

"Well, " said Pledge. "What about cricket?"

"Thanks, awfully, " said the fag, "I'd like it. "

"All serene. Come here as soon as school is up. " Which Heathcote did, and was girt hand and foot with pads, and led by his senior down intothe fields, where for an hour he stood gallantly at the wickets, swipingheroically at every ball, and re-erecting his stumps about once an over, as often as they were overturned by the desolating fire of the crackbowler of Templeton. 

A few stragglers came up and watched the practice; but Heathcote had thenatural modesty to know that their curiosity did not extend to hisbatting, gallant as it was. Indeed, they almost ignored the existenceof a bat anywhere, and even failed to be amused by the gradualdemoralisation of the fag who wielded it, under the sense of the eyesthat were upon him. 

"Pledge is on his form this term, " said Cresswell, one of the onlookers, to his friend Cartwright. 

"Tremendously, " said Cartwright. "Grandcourt won't stand up to it, ifit's like that on match day. Who's the kid at the wicket?"

"His new fag--poor little beggar!"

"It's a pity. Poor Forbes was just like him a couple of years ago. "

"Never mind, " said Cresswell, "Mansfield has got his eyes open, and Ifancy he'll be down in that quarter when he's captain. Old Ponty won'tdo it. He's worse than ever. Won't even come to practice, till he'sfinished 'Pickwick, ' he says. "

And the two friends strolled off rather despondently. 

In due time Heathcote was allowed to divest himself of his armour, andaccompany his senior indoors. 

"You didn't make a bad stand, youngster, " said Pledge, as they walkedacross the field, "especially at the end. Have you done much cricket?"

"Not much, " said Heathcote, blushing at the compliment. 

"You should stick to it. You'll get plenty of chance this term. "

"And yet, " said Heathcote to himself, "this is the fellow everybodytells me is a beast to be fought shy of, and not trusted for a minute. "He was almost tempted to interrogate Pledge point-blank on what it allmeant; but his shyness prevented him. 

Nothing occurred during the day to solve the mystery. There wascomparatively little to be done in the way of fagging; and what littlethere was, was amply compensated for by the help Pledge gave him in hisLatin composition in the evening. 

Later on, while Pledge was away somewhere, Heathcote was putting thebooks away on to the shelves, and generally tidying up the study, whenthe door partly opened, and a small round missive was tossed on to thefloor of the room. 

Heathcote regarded the intruder in a startled way, as if it had beensome infernal machine; but presently took courage to advance and takethe missive in his hand. It was a small round cardboard box, about thesize of a tennis ball, which, much to his surprise, bore his own name, printed in pen and ink, on the outside. He opened it nervously, andfound a note inside, also addressed to himself, which ran thus:--

 "Heathcote. --This is from a friend. You are in peril. Don't believe anything Pledge tells you. Suspect everything he does. He will try to make a blackguard of you. You had much better break with him, refuse to fag for him and take the consequences, than become his friend. Be warned in time. --Junius. "

This extraordinary epistle, all printed in an unrecognisable hand, setHeathcote's heart beating and his colour coming and going in a mannerquite new to him. Who was this "Junius, " and what was this conspiracyto terrify him? "Suspect everything he does. " A pretty piece ofadvice, certainly, to anybody. For instance, what villainy could beconcealed in his bowling for an hour at the wickets, or rescuing youngAspinall from his tormentors? "He will try to make a blackguard ofyou. " Supposing Junius was right, would it not be warning enough tofight shy of him when he began to try? Heathcote had reached this stagein his meditations when he heard Pledge approaching. He hurriedlycrushed the letter away into his pocket, and returned to the bookcase. 

"Hullo, young fellow, " said Pledge, entering. "Putting things straight?Thanks. What about your Latin verses? Not done, as usual, I suppose. Let's have a look. I'll do them for you, and you can fetch them in themorning. Good-night. "

Heathcote retired, utterly puzzled. He could believe a good deal thathe was told, but it took hard persuasion to make him believe that asenior who could do his Latin verses for him could be his worst enemy. 

CHAPTER NINE. 

A LITERARY GHOST. 

For two whole days Heathcote let "Junius's" letter burn holes in hispocket, not knowing what to think of it, or what to do with it. For himto take Dick into his confidence was, however, a mere matter of time, for Heathcote's nature was not one which could hold a secret for manydays together, and his loyalty to his "leader" was such that wheneverthe secret had to come out, Dick's was the bosom that had to receive it. 

"It's rum, " said the latter, after having read the mysterious documenttwice through. "I don't like it, Georgie. "

"The thing is, I can't imagine who wrote it. You didn't, did you?"

Dick laughed. 

"Rather not. I don't see the good of hole-in-the-corner ways of doingthings like that. "

"Do you think Cresswell wrote it? He's about the only senior that knowsme, except Pledge. "

"I don't fancy he did; it's not his style, " said Dick, who seemed quiteto have taken the whipper-in under his wing. 

"He might know. I wonder, Dick, if you'd mind trying to find out? Itmaybe a trick, you know, after all. "

"Don't look like it, " said Dick, glancing again at the letter. "It'stoo like what everybody says about _him_. "

"That's the worst of it. He's hardly said a word to me since I've beenhis fag, and certainly nothing bad; and he writes my Latin verses forme, too. I fancy fellows are down on him too much. "

"Well, " said Dick, "I'll try and pump Cresswell; but I _wish_ togoodness, Georgie, you weren't that beast's fag. "

Every conversation he had on the subject, no matter with whom, ended insome such ejaculation, till Heathcote got quite used to it, and evenceased to be disturbed by it. 

Indeed, he was half disappointed, after all the warning and sympathy hehad received, to find no call made upon his virtue, and no opportunityof making a noble stand against the wiles of the "spider. " He wouldrather have enjoyed a mild passage of arms in defence of hisuprightness; and it was a little like a "sell" to find Pledge turn out, after all, so uninterestingly like everybody else. 

Dick duly took an opportunity of consulting Cresswell on his friend'sbehalf. 

"I say, Cresswell, " said he, one morning, as the senior and his fagwalked back from the "Tub. "

"Who was Forbes?"

"Never mind, " said Cresswell, shortly. 

This was a rebuff, certainly; but Dick stuck to his purpose. 

"Heathcote asked me, " he said. "He's Pledge's fag, and everybody saysto him he'll come to grief like Forbes; and he doesn't know what theymean. "

"You gave your chum my message, did you?" said Cresswell. 

"Oh, yes; and, do you know, the other evening he had a letter throwninto him, he doesn't know where from, saying the same thing?"

Cresswell whistled, and stared at his fag. 

"Was it signed 'Junius, ' and done up in a ball?" he asked, excitedly. 

"Yes. Did _you_ send it?"

"And was it in printed letters, so that nobody could tell the writing?"

"Yes. Do you know about it, I say?"

"No, " said Cresswell; "no more does anybody. Your chum's had a letterfrom the ghost!"

"The what?"

"The Templeton ghost, my boy. "

"I don't believe in ghosts, " said Dick. 

"That's all right. No more do I. But those who do, say its a bad signto get a letter from ours. Forbes got one early last term. "

"Do you really mean--?" began Dick. 

"I mean, " said Cresswell, interrupting him, and evidently not enjoyingthe topic, "I mean that nobody knows who writes the letters, or why. It's been a mystery ever since I came here, three years ago. It happenssometimes twice or thrice a term; and other times perhaps only once insix months. "

"What had Heathcote better do?" asked Dick, feeling anything butreassured. 

"Do! He'd better read the letter. There's no use going and flourishingit all round the school. "

With this small grain of advice Dick betook himself to his friend, andsucceeded in making him more than ever uncomfortable and perplexed. Norwas his perplexity made less when, during the next few days, it leakedout somehow, and spread all over Templeton, that Heathcote had had aletter from the ghost. 

Interviewers waited on him from all quarters. Seniors cross-examinedhim, Fifth-form fellows tried to coax the letter out of him, and the Dencalled upon him, under threats of "Rule 5, " to make a full disclosure ofwhat had befallen him. He had a fair chance of losing his head with allthe attention paid him; and, had it not been for Cresswell's advice, emphasised by Dick, he might, like the ass in the lion's skin, have madehimself ridiculous. As it was, he was not more than ordinarilyintoxicated by his sudden notoriety, and kept the ghost's letterprudently hidden in his own pocket. 

One fellow, and one only besides Dick, saw it. And that was Pledge. 

"What's all this about the ghost?" asked the senior of his fag oneevening during preparation in their study. "Is it true you've had aletter?"

"Yes, " said Heathcote, very uncomfortably. 

"Do you mind letting me see it?"

"I'd rather not, please, " said the boy. 

"Don't you think it was meant for me to see?" asked Pledge. 

Heathcote was puzzled. He had never thought so yet, and wished Dick wasat hand to be consulted. 

"I don't think so, " he said. 

"It says, doesn't it, that you are to be on your guard against me, andthat I shall be sure and do you harm, and that the less you see of methe better, eh?"

"Yes; have you seen the letter?"

"No, or I shouldn't ask to see it. --How would you like to have letterswritten about you like that?"

"Not at all. Do you know who wrote it?"

"No. No one knows. And you believe it, of course?"

"No, I don't, " said Heathcote, making up his mind at a bound on aquestion which had been distracting him for a week. 

Pledge seemed neither pleased nor surprised by this avowal. 

"Doesn't everybody say you ought to?"

"Perhaps they do, " said Heathcote, getting into a corner. 

"Doesn't your chum say so?"

"He only goes by what other fellows say. "

"You mean Cresswell?"

"I daresay Cresswell may have said something, " said the new boy, gettingdeeper and deeper, and beginning to shuffle in spite of himself. 

"You _know_ he has said something, " said Pledge, sternly. "The ghostdidn't tell you to tell falsehoods, did it?"

"No. Cresswell did say something. "

"And you think it was very friendly of him, don't you?"

"No, I don't, " said the unhappy Heathcote. 

"Is Cresswell very fond of you?" asked Pledge. 

"No. I hardly ever saw him. "

"Why do you suppose he sent you that message, then?"

"I don't know. Perhaps he's got a spite against you. "

The boy was fairly out of his depth now, and gave up trying to recoverhis feet. 

"Would you like to know why; or don't you care?"

"I would like to know, please. "

"I daresay you've heard of a fellow called Forbes?"

Heathcote had, from twenty different fellows. 

"Forbes was a fag of mine last year--a nice boy, but dreadfully weak-minded. Any one could twist him round his thumb. As long as I kept myeye on him he was steady enough; but if ever I let him slide he got intotrouble. I was laid up a month last autumn with scarlet fever, and, ofcourse, Forbes was on the loose, and spent most of his time withCresswell and his set. As soon as I got back I noticed a change in him. He had got into bad ways, and talked like a fellow who was proud ofwhat he had learned. He used to swear and tell lies, and other things agreat deal worse. I did all I could to pull him up, and beforeChristmas I fancied he was rather steadier. But last term he broke outagain as bad as ever. I could keep no hold of him. He was constantlycutting me for his other friend; and all the time I, as his senior, gotthe credit of his ruin. He was expelled in February for somedisgraceful row he got into, and, because I stuck to him to the end, hisother friend gets up a report that I was to blame for it all. I don'tprofess to be better than I ought to be, youngster; I know I should bebetter than I am; but I'm not a blackguard. "

Heathcote was greatly impressed by this narrative. It cleared up, tohis mind, a great deal of the mystery that had been tormenting him thelast few days, and accounted for most of the stories and rumours whichhe had heard. The manner, too, in which Pledge defended himself, takingno undue credit for virtue, and showing such little bitterness towardshis traducers, went far to win him over. 

"It's hard lines on you, " he said. 

"You see, even a ghost can be wrong sometimes. "

"Yes, he can, " said Heathcote, resolutely. 

"I should like to see the letter, if you have it. "

And he did see it, and Heathcote watched the two red spots kindle on hischeeks as he read it and then crushed it up in his hand. 

"You don't want it back, I suppose? You're not going to frame it?"

"No, " replied the boy, watching the ghost's letter, rather regretfully, as it flared up and burned to ashes on the grate. 

He wished the unpleasant impression caused in his own mind by the affaircould come to an end as easily as that scrap of paper did. 

Care, however, was not wont to sit heavily at any time on the spirit ofGeorge Heathcote, and as Pledge did not again return to the subject, andeven Dick, seeing no immediate catastrophe befall his friend, began tosuspect the whole affair as an intricate and elaborate practical joke atthe expense of two new boys, the matter gradually subsided, and lifewent on at its usual jog-trot. 

This jog-trot gave place, however, on one eventful afternoon to a morestately parade, on the occasion of the captain's levee, a week afterElections. 

This ceremony, one of the immemorial traditions of Templeton, whichfellows would as soon have thought of neglecting as of omitting to takea holiday on the Queen's birthday, was always an occasion of generalinterest after the reassembling of the school. 

The captain of Templeton on this evening was "at home;" in other words, he stood on the platform at the top of "Hall" in his "swallows" andreceived the school, who all turned up in their very best attire to dohonour to the occasion. 

New boys were "presented" by their seniors, and the captain, if he was afellow of tact and humour, usually contrived to say something friendlyto the nervous juniors; and generally the occasion was looked upon asone on which Templeton was expected to make itself agreeable all roundand do itself honour. 

For some days previously our heroes had been carefully looking up theirwardrobes in anticipation of the show. Dick, on the very evening ofElections, had put aside his whitest shirt, and Heathcote had even goneto the expense of a lofty masher collar, and had forgotten all about theghost in his excitement over the washing of a choker which _would_ comeout limp, though he personally devoted a cupful of starch to itsstrengthening. 

There was, as usual, keen competition among the members of the Den as towho should achieve the "showiest rig" on the occasion. For some daysthe owner of Heathcote's steel chain was mentioned as the favourite, until rumour got abroad that young Aspinall was a "hot man, " and hadwhite gloves and three coral studs. But Culver outdid everybody at thelast moment by appearing in a real swallow-tail of his own, which he hadsecretly borrowed from a cousin during the holidays and kept dark tillnow. 

This, of course, settled the contest in favour of the president of theDen, and so much enthusiasm prevailed over the discovery, that a Denlevee was immediately proposed. 

The idea took, and, after much debate, it was resolved that thehonourable and original fraternity should take possession of the lowerend of Hall on the captain's night, and, after doing duty at the topend, repair to the bottom, there to display their loyalty to their ownparticular "swallow. " Due announcement was made to this effect, andRule 5 carefully rehearsed in the ears of all waverers. 

The evening came at last. Pontifex, surrounded by the Sixth, rambled upon to the dais and waited good-humouredly for the show to begin, quiteregardless of his own imposing appearance and of the awe which the arrayof senior shirt-fronts struck into the hearts of the new juniors wholooked on. 

In solemn order Templeton ascended the dais and rendered homage. Withthe Fifth the captain was affable, and with the Upper Fourth heexchanged a few jocular courtesies. With the Middle school he contentedhimself with a shake of the hand and a "How are you, Wright?"

"Ah, Troup, old man, " and such-like greetings. Boys he had punishedyesterday he received quite as warmly now as the most immaculate of thevirtuous ones, and boys who had cheeked him two hours ago in the fieldshe shook hands with as cordially as he did with the most loyal of hisadherents. 

There was a pause as the last of the Middle school descended from thedais, and the Den, headed by the resplendent Culver, advanced. Templeton tried to look grave and remember its good manners, but it wasan effort under such an array of glory. Culver himself, with hisborrowed coat so tight under the arms that he could not keep his elbowsdown, and his waistcoat pinned back so far that the empty button-hole inhis front quite put the studded ones to shame, might have passed in acrowd; but Gosse, with his hair parted in the middle and his "whisker"elaborately curled; Pauncefote, with his light blue silk handkerchiefprotruding half out of his waistcoat pocket; and Smith, with the cuffsthat hid the tips of his fingers, were beyond gravity, and a suppressedtitter followed the grandees up the hall and on to the platform. 

Pontifex received them all with serene affability and good breeding. 

"Hullo, youngster!" said he to Culver, not even bestowing a glance onhis finery: "hope to see you in an eleven this season. Ah, Gosse, myboy; quiet as ever, eh? You're an inch taller than last levee. How areyou, Pauncefote? How are you, Smith? How goes the novel? not dead, Ihope?"

"No; it's going on, " said Pauncefote, blushing. 

"Put me down for a copy, " said the captain. "Hullo! here come the newboys. "

Time did not appear to have endowed our heroes yet with confidence orelegance in the art of ascending the Templeton platform. Dick stillretained a painful recollection of his legs, and Heathcote was tornasunder by the cruel vagaries of his high collar, which would not keepon the button, but insisted on heeling over, choker and all, at criticalmoments to one side. Aspinall made a more respectable show, for he wastoo nervous to bestow a thought on his dress, or to notice the curiouseyes turned upon him from remote corners. 

New boys were always presented by their seniors, and it was a criticalmoment when Cresswell, taking Dick and Aspinall, one by each arm, saidin an audible voice:--

"Captain, allow me to introduce Mr Richardson and Mr Aspinall, two newboys. "

Dick bowed as gracefully as he could, and watched the captain's handsharply, in case it might show signs of expecting to be shaken, which itdid, with a cheery--

"Very glad to see you, Richardson. I hear you won the new boys' race. You've got a good trainer in Cresswell. How do you do, Aspinall?Feeling more at home here, aren't you? I recollect how lost I was thefirst time I tumbled into school. "

"Captain, allow me to introduce Mr Heathcote, " said Pledge. 

Poor Heathcote, whose choker had now got round to his back, turnedcrimson, and said, "Thank you, " and then made a grab at the captain'shand, by way of hiding his confusion. 

"Ah, how are you, Heathcote?" said the magnate kindly. "Hope to seeplenty of you in the 'Tub, ' and down field. You new boys should show upout of doors all you can. "

Mansfield was not the only senior standing by who heard and appreciatedthis delicate hint. Pledge heard it too, and knew what it meant. 

"If old Ponty, " said Mansfield to Cresswell, "would only follow it up, what a splendid captain he would be. There's not another fellow can gothrough levee the way he does. He strokes down everybody. Goodnessknows, when my turn comes, I shall come a cropper. "

"Your turn will come soon, if Ponty leaves this term. You're bound tohave levee in your first week. Hullo! what's up down there?"

This last question was caused by the slight excitement of Den levee, which, according to programme, was in the act of being celebrated at thebottom of the hall. 

Culver, who was really rather sore under the arms, with his longconfinement in his cousin's "swallow, " was mounted on a lexicon, andword being passed that he was ready to receive company, the Denproceeded to file past him, in imitation of the ceremony which had justbeen concluded on the upper dais. 

The imitation in this case, however, was not flattery. Culver was not adignified youth, and his sense of humour was not of that refined orderwhich enables a man to distinguish between comedy and burlesque. He hada general idea that he had to make himself pleasant, which heaccordingly did in his own peculiar style. 

"Ah, Gossy, old chap!" he said, as the secretary of the Den presentedhimself with his whiskered cheek nearest to his chief. "It's coming on, my boy. You'll have a hair and a half before the Grandcourt match. "

The titter which greeted this sally highly delighted the tight-lacedpresident, who (especially as his audience consisted of a goodsprinkling of the Middle school, attracted by the chance of sport), strained every nerve to sustain his reputation for wit. 

"How do you do, Pauncefote, my lad?" said he, as the owner of the lightblue silk handkerchief approached. "Why don't you show enough wipe?Stick a pin in one corner, and leave the rest hanging down. How's thenovel, my boy?"

"Pretty well, " said Pauncefote. 

"Ah, my venerable chum, Smith, " continued the president, holding out hishand to the joint secretary. 

"Why don't you wash your face, and stick your hands up your sleeves. How's a fellow to flap you a daddle in those cuffs, eh?"

In this refined style of banter, Culver passed his followers in array, gradually degenerating in his humour as he went on, until the last fewcame in for decidedly broad personalities. 

But he saved up his final effort for the new boys, of whom Aspinallhappened to be pushed forward first. 

"Booh, hoo! poor little baby. Did it come for a little drink of its'ittle bottle? It should then. Hold out your hand, you young muff. "

Aspinall obeyed, and next moment was writhing under the "scrunch" whichthe president in his humour bestowed upon it. 

"Now make a bow, " demanded that gentleman when the greeting was over. 

Aspinall made obeisance, amid loud derisive cheers, and was called uponto repeat the performance several times. 

"Now shake hands again. "

The boy tried to escape, but his arm was roughly seized, and his handonce more captured in the ruthless grip of his host. 

In vain he tried to get free. The more he struggled the tighter thegrip became, till at last he fairly fell on his knees, and howled forpain. 

Then Dick, who had gradually been boiling over, could stand it nolonger. 

"Let his hand go!" he shouted, stepping up to the president, andemphasising his demand with a slight push. 

You might have knocked the Den down with a feather! They stared at oneanother, and then at Dick, and then at one another again, until theireyes ached. 

Then Culver, utterly oblivious of his tight sleeves, or his dignifiedposition, turned red in the face and said--

"What do you mean?"

"What I say, " said Dick, a trifle pale, and breathing hard. 

"Will you fight?" said Culver. 

"Yes, " said Dick, in a dream, for his head was swimming round, and heforgot where he was, and what the row was about. 

"You mean it?" once more asked the president. 

"Yes, I do, " again retorted Dick. 

"Very well, " said Culver. 

Instantly there was a stampede of the Den, and cries of "a fight!" shookthe halls and passages of Templeton. 

The Sixth heard it in their lofty regions, whither they had retiredafter the fatigue of levee. 

"Pity to stop it, " said Birket, who reported the state of the matter tothe seniors. "It'll do good. "

"Who's the better man?" asked Cresswell. 

"Culver, I fancy. "

"Humph!" said the captain, "you'd better be there to see fair play, Birket; and Cresswell will come down and stop it in ten minutes. Eh, Cress?"

"All serene, " said Cresswell. 

CHAPTER TEN. 

DESCRIBES A GREAT BATTLE, AND WHAT FOLLOWED. 

Perhaps I ought to begin this chapter with an apology. Perhaps I oughtto delude my readers into the belief that it gives me far more pain todescribe a fight, than it gave Dick and his antagonist to take part init. Perhaps I ought to go back and alter my last chapter, and call inthe dogs of war. Perhaps I should solemnly explain to the reader howmuch more beautiful it would have been in Dick, if, instead of lettinghis angry passions rise at the sight of young Aspinall's wrongs, he hadwalked kindly up to the bully, and laying his hand gently on hisshoulder, asked him with a sweet smile, whether he thought that wasquite a nice thing for a big boy to do to a small one? whether hisconscience didn't tell him he erred? and whether he wouldn't go andretire for a quiet hour to his study, and think the matter over with thesaid conscience? Then, if, at the end of that time he still feltdisposed to use physical force towards the little new boy, would heallow him, Dick, on this occasion to bear the punishment in his youngfriend's place?

I say, I might, perhaps begin my chapter in this fashion, were it notfor two trifling difficulties--one being that I should be a humbug, which it is not my ambition to be; the other, that Dick, too, would havebeen a humbug, which he certainly was not. 

The truth about fighting is--if one must express an opinion on sodelicate a subject--that its right and wrong depend altogether on whatyou fight about. There are times when to fight is right, and there area great many more times when to fight is wrong. And for Dick at thepresent moment to hold up his hands and say, "Oh, no, thank you, " whenCulver asked him if it was a fight, would have been as bad every bit, asif he had picked a quarrel and fought with the man who caught him out atcricket. 

Having relieved our minds so far, let us, reader, accompany Basil theson of Richard, as he strides; surrounded by his myrmidons, and most ofall by the faithful Heathcote, to the Templeton "cock pit, " wherealready the large-boned Culver, hemmed in no more by the envious grip ofthe toga of his mothers sister's son, awaits the fray. 

For him Gosse holds the sponge, and bids him hit low, and walk hisfoeman over the tapes. 

And now a score of officious voices cry out "A ring!" and the surgingwaves fall back, as when a whirlpool opens in mid-ocean. 

Tall amid the crowding juniors stalks Birket, at sight of whom Dick'sheart rejoices, and Gosse's countenance falls. For Birket will see fairplay. 

And now the faithful Heathcote staggers under the weight of his friend'sdiscarded garments, and whispers words of brotherly cheer as the snowysleeves of the hero roll up his arm, and his chafing collar falls fromhis swelling neck. 

The crowd grows dumb and hearts beat quick, as those two stand there, face to face, the large-boned, solid Culver, and the compact, light-footed Dick, with his clean, fresh skin, and well-poised head, andtight, determined lips; and the signal goes forth that the battle hasbegun. 

The knowing ones are there, who, with Birket, look close to see what thenew boy is made of, and how he works his left. But the unknowing regardthe size of their Culver, and prophesy fast and furiously. 

Then do these two circle slowly round the tapes, attempting nothinggreat, but, by feint and parry, seeking each to unmask his man anddiscover where he is weak and where strong. The unknowing ones andGosse murmur, and cry on their man to let out. And he, irresolute amoment, yields, and standing drives at his foeman's head. Up goes theright of Basil the son of Richard, and behold while all cry "a parry!"in goes his left, quick as a flash, and grazes the chin of the solidCulver. 

Whereat the ring well-nigh breaks with applause, and the knowing onesnod one at another, and Heathcote leaps for joy and beams like the sunat mid-day as his hero returns to his knees and girds himself for thesecond round. 

Birket looks up at the clock and groans to see five minutes gone. Gosse, too, groans as his man steps forward once more, unsteady andamazed at what had befallen him. "Hit low!" he whispers. 

And now, once more, dead silence falls upon the ring, and all eyes turnto where Dick steps lightly up and meets his man. All mark the laugh inhis eye, but the knowing ones like it not. 

"Steady, " says Birket; "don't be too sure. "

But Basil the son of Richard heeds him not, and his eyes laugh still. This time, not Culver, but he is the pursuer, and the unknowing onesquake for their hero. Yet Culver stands as he stood before and dealshis blow. Once more the new boy parries and drives home with his left. But, alas! Culver is ready for him, while he, unprepared, with hisright still up, receives the fist of Culver on his chest. And the echofalls upon the ring like distant thunder. 

Where, now, is the laughter in Basil's eyes, or who can see the sunlighton Heathcote's troubled face? Who now nod their heads but the unknowingones? and who looks grave but Birket?

As when a mountain torrent rushes down its bed with huge uproar until itmeet a fiercer, leaping headlong from the cliff, and drowning the lesserdin with a greater, so do the shouts for Basil the son of Richard, growfaint beneath the shouts that rise for Culver, the large of bone. Norwhen "time" is called, and from the trembling knees of their secondsthose two arise and stalk into the ring, does the clamour cease, tillBirket, with his eye on the clock, breathes threatenings and demands it. 

Then you may hear a pin fall, as Basil, stern of eye and tight of lip, stands fast and waits his man. The knowing ones look anxiously to wherethe solid Culver squares, and take cheer; for he is flushed and eager, and his lips are open as he walks into the fray. And Heathcote callsloud upon his hero, and Birket bids him straight "go in and win. " Gosseyet again bids the solid one "hit low!" and the unknowing ones cry "twoto one on Culver. "

The heroes meet, and Culver, gathering up his might, makes feint atBasil's head. Up goes the wary arm of Basil, which marking, Culversmites hard and low, a villain thrust hard on the hero's belt. WhereatGosse cries aloud "bravo!" but Heathcote rages and shouts "belt!" andwould himself spring into the fray, but Birket holds him back. 

For Basil's eyes flash fire, and on the distant staircase stands alreadyCresswell, ready to stop the fight. "A minute more, " cries Birket, andthe ring is still as when Etna, ready to burst, sleeps. 

Then does Basil the son of Richard gather himself together and drawbreath, while Culver, sure of his man, steps back for a mighty blow. Dick sees it coming, and marks with a quick cool eye its fierce descent. With half a step he avoids it, and as the solid form sways past hegreets it right and left with well-aimed blows, which send it headlongto the dust two long yards distant. 

Then, as when the swelling torrent breaks with one furious bound intothe vale below, does the crowd burst into the ring, and, with mightyshouts, proclaim a victory to the light-footed son of Richard. And, behold, as they do so, the towering form of Cresswell comes in view andbears down upon the scene. 

Never did swarm of mice, spying Grimalkin afar, scamper quicker to theirholes than do the youths of Templeton vanish before the distant view ofCresswell. Victor and vanquished, knowing and unknowing--all but one, fade to sight, and ere the monitor can stop the fight, the fight isover. 

Birket alone remained to meet the senior. 

"Well, " said the latter, "is it all over?"

"Rather, " said the Fifth-form boy. "I'm awfully glad you didn't comesooner. "

"Bless you, " said Cresswell, "I've been watching it for the last fiveminutes, so I ought to know when to turn up. "

"You have? Then you saw the finish? The youngster made as neat a jobof it as I ever saw. "

"It was rather pretty, " said Cresswell. "He'd something to make up for, though, after making such an ass of himself in the second round. By-the-way, was that last shot of Culver's below the belt?"

"It was precious close to the wind, anyhow. You leave that to me, though. I'll make that all right. "

"Thanks, " said the monitor. "Something ought to be said about it, or weshall have more of it. Well, I suppose they'll shake hands after a bit. You might see to that, too. Ponty's sure to ask, and there ought to bean end of it. "

When Birket, half an hour later, descended to the Den he found arevolution in active progress. Dick was the hero of the hour. Hisvaliant stand against solid odds, his last victorious blow, but, most ofall, the cowardly blow of his opponent, had suddenly raised him to apinnacle of glory which took away his breath. Culver, despite hisdress-coat, despite his exertions at levee, despite his seniority andlong service, had been ignominiously deposed from office, and subjectedto the rigour of rule 5 by an indignant and resentful populace. Theunknowing ones, who had backed him the loudest, now answered the soonestto Heathcote's demand for retribution, and Gosse himself, who had anhour ago whispered nothing but "hit low, " now denounced the coward andproclaimed his deposition. 

By a single vote Culver was dethroned, and Dick, amid frantic cheers, elected president in his stead. Nor did popular clamour cease there, for Gosse was stripped of his office, too, and Heathcote unanimouslychosen secretary; and, for the first time in history, the Den did homageto two week-old new boys, and called them its leaders. 

It was scarcely possible that Dick, in the midst of all this glory, should remain unmoved. He tried to look modest, he tried to bearhimself as though he had done nothing out of the common, he even triedto persuade himself he would rather not accept the office thrust uponhim. But his heart swelled with pride, and his head grew light in itslofty atmosphere. 

Nor did Birket's visit tend to sober him. 

"Well, youngster, " said the Fifth-form boy, "you managed it at last, then?"

"Oh, yes, " said Dick, grandly, "he's not very good with his parries. "

"Isn't he? He's good at coming in on your chest, my boy. Don't you betoo cocky. You're not a Tom Sayers yet. "

"The last blow was below the belt, though, " said Dick. 

"I know. I've come to see about that. "

"You needn't bother. He's been licked for it. I didn't touch him, ofcourse, but the other fellows did. "

"Kind of you. Has he apologised?"

"Oh, never mind, " said Dick, forgivingly, "it doesn't matter. "

"Tut! do you suppose he's got to apologise to you? I was there to seefair play, and he's to do it to me. "

At any other time Dick might have felt snubbed; but now he failed to seethe rebuke, and gave order grandly that Culver should be brought. 

"There he is, " said he, as the unhappy ex-president of the Den wasconducted into his presence. 

"Culver, " said Birket, "you are a cad; you hit below the belt. "

"No, I didn't, it was an accident, " pleaded the culprit. "Please, Birket, I've been licked already. "

"Stand up on that form, and tell all the fellows you apologise for doinga cowardly action and disgracing Templeton. "

Culver promptly obeyed, and repeated the apology word for word. 

There were loud cries for Gosse at this point, and Birket yielded to thepopular demand, and ordered the ex-secretary to go through the sameceremony. Which the ex-secretary cheerfully did. 

"Now then, " said the Fifth-form boy, turning again to Culver, "shakehands with Richardson and make it up. You've been licked, so there'snothing left to settle. "

Culver may have secretly differed from Birket on this point, but he kepthis secret to himself and held out his hand. Dick took it, and gave itan honest shake. It is one of the luxuries victors enjoy, to shake theproffered hand of the vanquished, and Dick enjoyed it greatly. 

"It's all made up now, " said Birket, addressing the Den, "and there'dbetter be no more row about it, or you'll have one of the Sixth down onyou, and he won't let you off as easy as I have, I can tell you. "

But although the fight was over, and the breach of the peace was healed, the consequences of the fray were of much longer duration. 

Their effect on Dick was not, on the whole, beneficial to that doughtyyoung warrior. Prosperity went harder with him than adversity. As longas he had his hill to climb, his foe to vanquish, his peril to brave, Dick had the makings of a hero. But when fortune smoothed his path, when the foe lay at his feet, when the peril had passed behind, thenDick's troubles began. Popularity turned his head, and laid him open todangers twice as bad as those he had cleared. The more fellows cheeredhim, the more he craved their cheers; the more he craved their cheers, the more willing a slave he became. 

"It strikes me, youngster, " said Cresswell one day, when the term hadturned the corner, and the Grandcourt match was beginning to loom verynear in the future, "it strikes me you're not doing much good up here. You're always fooling about with those precious juniors of yours, instead of sticking to cricket and tennis and your books. Here's youngAspinall here, ahead of you, by long chalks, in classics, and getting abreak on at tennis that'll puzzle you to pick up unless you wake up. You can do as you like; only don't blame me if you get stuck among thelouts. "

For a time, this friendly advice pulled Dick up in his profitlesscareer. The dread of being considered a "lout" by your senior is amotive which appeals forcibly to most boys; and for a week or so Dickmade a feverish show of returning to his outdoor sports, and doinghimself justice. 

But the effort died away under the claims of the Den. Den suppers, Denconcerts, Den debates, and Den conclaves always somehow managed to clashwith Templeton work and play; and even Heathcote found it next toimpossible to keep up his batting and his secretarial duties to thehonourable fraternity. 

"_I_ shall have to jack it up, " said he, one day, dolefully to Dick, "Pledge always wants me just when things are going on here. Hadn't youbetter get some one else?"

"Bosh! Let Pledge get some one else, " said Dick, warmly. "What righthas he got to make you fag for him out of school; that's the very thingwe want to stop. "

"But I rather like the batting. Cartwright said I was improving. "

"Oh, of course; just a dodge to make you stick to it. Don't you letthem gammon you, Georgie. Stick to us, and hang Pledge. "

And, of course, Heathcote obeyed, and his cricket suffered; and fellowswho had hopes of him shrugged their shoulders when they saw him riotingin the Den, and letting another usurp his pads. 

Had Dick known the bad turn he was doing his friend he would havehesitated before requiring him to give up a healthy sport, which, justthen, was one of his chief safeguards against far less healthyoccupations. 

The "spider" had not had the fly in his web for five weeks withoutcasting some light toils around him. Heathcote himself would have saidthat Pledge was as inoffensive to-day as he had been on the first day ofthe term, and would have angrily scouted the idea that "Junius, " or anyone else, had been right in his warnings. 

And yet in five weeks Heathcote had begun not to be the nice boy he was. Not that Pledge, by any direct influence, incited him to evil-doing. On the contrary, he always corrected him when he prevaricated, andscolded him when he idled. 

But the boy had begun a course of indirect training far more dangerousto his morals and happiness than any direct training could have been. 

He discovered, very gradually, that Pledge's notions of persons andthings were unlike any he had hitherto entertained. In the innocence ofhis heart he had always given every one credit for being honest, andvirtuous, until he had good cause to see otherwise. When any one toldhim a thing, he usually believed it straight off. If any one professedto be anything, he usually assumed it was so. The small knot of boys atTempleton who called themselves religious, who said their prayerssteadily, who refused to do what their conscience would not allow, whotried to do good in some way or other to their fellows, these Heathcotehad readily believed were Christians, and more than once he had wishedhe belonged to their set. 

But, somehow, Pledge's influence gave him altogether different ideas onthese points. For instance, he would one evening hear a conversationsomewhat as follows, between his senior and some friend--generallyWrangham of the Fifth, who usually associated with Pledge:

"I hear Holden is not going to try for the Bishop's scholarship, afterall, " says Wrangham, who, by the way, is aesthetic, and adopts an air ofgeneral weariness of the world which hardly becomes a boy of seventeen. 

"Did he tell you so himself?" asked Pledge. 

"Yes. "

"Then, of course, we don't believe it. He'd like us to think so, Idaresay. "

"He knows what he is about, though. He got confirmed last week, youknow, and that's bound to go down with Winter. "

"Winter's pretty well bound to favour Morris, I fancy, though he's notpious, " says Pledge. "There are three young Morrises growing up, youknow. "

Wrangham laughs languidly. 

"Nice rotten state the school's in, " says he. "Thank goodness, itdoesn't matter much to me; but I've once or twice thought of joining thesaints, just to save trouble. "

"Ha, ha! I'd come and look at you, old man. Fancy you and Mansfieldlooking over the same hymn-book, and turning up your eyes. "

"But, " says Heathcote, who has been drinking in all the talk in abewildered way, and venturing now, as he sometimes does, to join in it. "But I always thought Mansfield was really good. "

His two hearers laugh till the boy blushes crimson, and wishes he hadnot made such an ass of himself. 

"Rather, " says Wrangham. "He is one of the elect. It's worth fiftypounds a year to him, so it would be a wonder if he wasn't. "

"Yes, my boy, " says Pledge, "if you want to get on at Templeton, takeholy orders. Believe everybody's as good as he tries to make out, andyou'll have no trouble at all. When a fellow cracks up your batting, don't on any account suspect he wants to borrow five shillings of you, and if he tells you it's naughty to look about in chapel, don't imaginefor a moment he's got half-a-dozen cribs in his study. Bah! They'reall alike. Thank goodness you're not a hypocrite yet, young 'un, whatever you may become. Now you can cut. Good-night. "

And Heathcote obeys, and lies wide awake an hour, wondering how he canever have remained a simpleton as long as he has. 

CHAPTER ELEVEN. 

HOW PONTY TAKES HIS HAND OUT OF HIS POCKET. 

The Grandcourt match was the only match of the season which Templetonplayed away from home. All its other matches, the house match, and eventhe match against the town, were played in the Fields, in the presenceof the whole school. But once every other year, Templeton went forth towar in drags and omnibuses against its hereditary rival, and mighty wasthe excitement with which the expedition and its equipment were regardedby every boy who had the glory of his school at heart. 

Seventy boys, and seventy only, were permitted to form the invadingarmy, the selection of whom was a matter of intrigue and emulation forweeks beforehand. But for a few broad rules, which eliminated at leasthalf the school, the task might have been still more difficult than itwas. For instance, all juniors, to the eternal wrath and indignation ofthe Den, were excluded. Further, all boys who during the term hadsuffered punishment, either monitorial or magisterial, all boys who hadnot shown up at the proper number of practices in the Fields, all boyswho had lost a given number of "call-overs" forfeited the chance ofgetting their names on the "Grandcourt List, " as it was called. 

Of the reduced company that remained, each member of the eleven had theright of nominating six, the remaining four being chosen by thepatriarchal method of lot. 

Altogether, it was admitted that the system of selection was on thewhole impartial, although, as a matter of course, it involved bitterdisappointments to many an enthusiastic and deserving cricketer. 

Our heroes, being juniors, were of course out of it, and they warmlyadopted the indignation of the Den against the gross tyranny ofexcluding the rising generation from taking part in the great schoolevent. 

But Dick was not a youth whose inmost soul could be satisfied with mereindignation. If a thing struck him as unjust, the desire to rid himselfof the injustice took possession of him at the same time. 

"Georgie, " said he to Heathcote, the day before the match, "it's allrot! We _must_ go, I tell you. "

"How can we? We should get bowled out, to a certainty, before westarted. "

"But, Georgie, it's no end of a day, fellows say; you get put up likelords at Grandcourt, and the spread afterwards is somethingscrumptious. "

"Yes, but what chance should we stand of that when every one will knowwe're mitching?"

"Oh, they wouldn't say anything if once we got there. I tell you, oldman, I'd risk a good bit to do it. Think of the crow we'd have at thenext Den. "

"How should we get over, though?"

"Oh, I know some of the Fourth. They might smuggle us into their trap, or we could hang on somehow. Bless you! the fellows will be too festiveto notice us. What do you say?"

"All right; I'm on to try it, " said Heathcote, not feeling verysanguine. 

"Right you are. Keep it quiet, I say, and come down to 'Tub' early to-morrow. "

Which being arranged, the two dissemblers went down and addressed amonster meeting of the Den, denouncing everybody and vowing vengeance onthe oppressor. 

At "Tub time" next morning, Dick met his friend with a radiant face. 

"It's all right, " said he; "I've been over to the Mews and had a look atthe traps, and one of them's got a bar underneath we can easily hang onto. "

"Rather a grind hanging on to a bar for two hours!" suggested Heathcote. 

"Bless you! that won't hurt. Besides, we might get a lift further on;in fact, one of the coachmen said for five bob he'd stow us away in theboot. "

"That would be less dusty, " said Heathcote; "but--"

"Look here, " said Dick eagerly, as he and his friend stood side by sideon the spring-board ready for a plunge, "what howling asses we are! Ofcourse all the fellows will go on the top of the omnibuses, so if we cutround to the stables directly after breakfast, we can stow ourselvesaway inside one, under the seat, and then we shall have it all toourselves. "

"All right, " said Heathcote, looking at last as if he saw his way to theventure. 

And the two friends forthwith dived, and turned the plan over beneaththe waves. 

When, punctually at ten o'clock, the six coaches paraded in the greatQuadrangle, no one noticed the absence of Dick and his henchman in thecrowd that assembled to watch the departure of the lucky seventy. Norwhen coach one had started with the Eleven, and coaches two, three, andfour had carried off the rest of the Sixth and Fifth, did any onesuspect that coach five had taken up two of its passengers already. 

The Upper and Middle Fourth, who boarded this vehicle, had little idea, as they pitched their coats and wraps inside and mounted themselves tothe top, that, like the birds who buried the babes in the wood beneaththe leaves, they were hiding the light of day from two innocents who layone under either seat, with their noses to the fresh air and theirhearts very decidedly in their mouths. 

"Chock full up here, " cried a voice from the top, which Dick, even inhis retirement, recognised as belonging to Duffield, the post fag, who, by virtue of his office, was just out of the Den; "you kids will have togo inside. "

"Oh, I say, you might let us up, " replied one of the "kids" in question, in tones of expostulation; "we won't take up much room. It's so jollystuffy inside. "

"So it is, " inwardly ejaculated the two stowaways. 

"Just the place for you. You can play oughts-and-crosses and enjoyyourselves. There's not standing room up here, " cried Duffield. 

"Can't we stand on the step?"

"No; Hooker's bagged the bottom step, and I've bagged the one half upthis side as soon as we start. "

The lurkers gasped. They had not reckoned on the steps being occupiedand their snug retreat raked by the eyes of the bumptious Hooker. 

"Can we stand on them till you're ready, I say?" once more asked thepersevering Fourth-formers. 

"Why can't you go inside? I say, though, " added the post fag, "there'sroom for two on the next coach. Hop up, or you'll be out of it!"

To the relief of our heroes, the youngsters yapped off on the new scent;and they presently had the satisfaction of hearing their voices raisedin a halloo of triumph from the box of coach six. 

"All right!" cried a master, as the last man squeezed up to his perch. 

Then arose great cheers and counter-cheers, not unmixed with yells, asthe cavalcade drove off in style, followed by Templeton in full cry asfar as the great gate, where they parted company, amid shouts thatbrought all the town to its windows. 

Once clear of the school, our heroes breathed more freely in more sensesthan one. As long as Hooker kept guard of the lower step, andDuffield's legs swayed about on the other, they were unable to do morethan quietly push back the coats and put their heads out. But boththese amateur conductors were too much occupied in hailing passers-byand protecting their caps from the assaults of their own friends aboveto bestow much attention to the inside of a coat-strewn, stuffy vehicle;and in time our heroes found they might venture to whisper across thefloor and attempt in a quiet way to make themselves more comfortable;"Beastly dusty, " said Heathcote; "it gets in my mouth. "

"Wouldn't mind that, " said Dick, "if I didn't get pins-and-needles in myarms. I've a good mind to turn over. "

Here they were sent back like rabbits to their holes by the scare of afree fight taking place on the lower step between Hooker and a townyouth, whom he had aggrieved by discharging a broadside of peas on atender portion of his visage. 

The fight was a sharp one, for the burly town youth was a "tartar, " andhad more than one grudge to settle with the Templeton boys. He managedto get a footing on the step, and hooking one elbow securely over thedoor, worked his other arm with great effect on the unfortunate Hooker. The whole fray was so suddenly got up that those on the roof knewnothing about it, and Duffield was so occupied with kicking at theintruder with his one spare leg that he quite forgot to raise a war cry. 

The town boy proved equal to his two antagonists. Duffield was earlyrendered _hors de combat_ by his spare foot being captured and tuckedunder the arm by which the enemy hung on to the door. And Hookerhimself was gradually getting ousted from his perch, and might have beenfinally dropped on to the road, had not an unexpected diversion in hisfavour rescued him. 

This was made by no one less than Dick, who, having taken in with aquick eye the position of affairs, saw that Templeton demanded hisservices, cost him what they might. He, therefore, summoned Heathcoteto back him up, and taking an overcoat from the pile, cast it adroitlyover the head of the town boy just as he had edged Hooker on to the verymargin of the step. This, of course, settled the business. Duffieldgot back his foot, and Hooker got his arm once more over the door. Theformer raised a cry of "Cad hanging on!" The latter shouted, "Whipbehind!" The occupants of coach six yelled, "Chuck him over!" Andputting one thing with another, the town boy decided that he would bemore comfortable on the pavement than where he was. So he dropped off, leaving his hat behind him, which trophy was immediately seized andpassed aloft, amid universal triumph, and displayed proudly on the topof a bat, on coach five, until the cavalcade was clear of the town. 

"Who scragged that fellow?" asked Hooker, as soon as the campaign wasover, looking up and down. 

"I don't know, " said Duffield. "Is there any one inside?"

Dick, who had been gradually trying to edge back to his retreat, deemedit prudent to make a clean breast of it at once, while the two "step"men owed him their thanks. 

"I say, Hooker, " said he, putting up his head behind the pile of wrapsin a manner that made the gentleman addressed almost fall off withfright, "don't say anything--I scragged him. Heathcote and I wanted soawfully to see the match. Keep it dark, I say. "

Hooker put his head into the window, and whistled. 

"You'll get in a frightful row, " said he, consolingly; "never mind, I'llsay nothing. Cover up, and don't let the chaps see you. "

They took his advice as cheerfully as they could, and even enduredpleasantly the occasional pea-shooter practice with which, by way ofenlivening their solitude, he was good enough to favour them. 

They had an anxious drive on the whole. For besides Hooker's pea-shooter and the dismal prophecies he kept calling in to them of theterrible fate that awaited them on their return to Templeton, they foundthe dust and heat very trying. All that, however, was as nothing to thepanic produced by a sudden rumour of a shower, and the possible descentof the whole of coach five into the interior. Happily for them JupiterPluvius changed his mind at the last moment, and sheered off. But thetwo minutes they spent in expecting him were calculated considerably tocurtail the natural life of both. 

It was hard lines, too, to hear all the festivities going on above andbe able to take no part in them. They dared not even sit up for fear ofbecoming visible to the occupants of the box-seat of coach six, who hada full view of their interior. So they lay low for two mortal hours, and by the time Grandcourt was reached discovered that their dusty headsand limbs ached not a little. 

"You'd better come out and cheek it, " said Hooker, as the coach pulledup; "you're bound to get into a row, so you may as well enjoyyourselves. "

Dick's intention had been to get taken on under the seat to the stables, and there make his escape. But after all there was not much less riskthat way than in following Hooker's advice. So they tumbled out withthe crowd, and kept near Hooker, on whose support they felt entitled torely, after the service rendered to him in the battle of the lower step. 

Every one was so excited about the match, and so anxious to show offwell to the Grandcourt boys, that no one took any notice of the twosmall interlopers, which was a matter of great thankfulness to ourheroes. 

Their spirits gradually rose as they found themselves sittingcomfortably among a knot of Templetonians, in the glorious Grandcourtmeadow, with a superb view of the match. They lost all their reserve, and joined wildly in the cheers for the old school, heedless of everyconsideration of prudence and self-preservation. 

And they certainly had some excuse for their enthusiasm. For Templetonwalked away from her enemy from the very first, in a style which amazedeven her most ardent admirers. 

In their first innings they put together 215 as smartly and merrily asif they were playing against an eleven of the Den. One after anotherthe Grandcourt bowlers collapsed. No sort of ball seemed to find itsway past the Templeton bats, and no sort of fielding seemed to hem intheir mighty hits. 

Pontifex--"dear old Ponty, " as everybody called him to-day--who had beenbreaking his friends' hearts by his indolence and indifference all theterm, stood up now, and punished the Grandcourt bowling, till the enemyalmost yelled with dismay. The steady Mansfield was never steadier, norCartwright more dashing, nor Pledge more artful. Even Birket, who to-day fleshed his maiden bat on the Grandcourt meadow, knocked up his twoand threes, with one cut for four into the tent, till it seemed toTempleton that cricket was in the air, and that even Hooker and Duffieldcould have pulled the match off single-handed. 

But the batting was nothing to the play when Templeton was out and tookthe offensive. Pledge was more than dangerous, he was deadly, andknocked the balls about in a manner quite "skeery. " Heathcote wasperfectly sure he could have made as good a stand as the Grandcourtcaptain, and began to lay down the law to his hearers as to how this manshould have taken one ball and that man "drawn" another, till he becamequite amusing, and was recognised for the first time by several of hisschoolfellows. 

However, the general interest in the match was still too keen to givehim the notoriety his indiscretion deserved; and lulled by his apparentimmunity and the luxury of his present circumstances, he, like Dick, quite forgot he had no right to be where he was, and even expostulatedwith Duffield for squashing him and interfering with his view. 

Grandcourt went out for a miserable 80; of which 30 had been put on byone man. Of course they had to follow on, and as the time was short, itwas agreed to curtail the usual interval, and finish up the matchstraight away. 

So Grandcourt went in again, and although it fared somewhat better, wasstill unable to stem the tide of defeat. With 135 to get in order toavoid a single innings defeat, it was only natural they did not settledown to their task very cheerfully or hopefully. Pledge still sent downa ruthless fire from one end; and seemed even to improve with exercise. Nor was he badly backed up at the other end by Cresswell; whileMansfield, at the wicket, and Ponty, at point, seemed, as it were, tohelp themselves to the ball off the end of the bat, whenever they liked. By painful, plodding hard work, Grandcourt put up their hundred, and itspoke well for the chivalry of the victorious seventy, that they cheeredthe three figures as loudly as any one. 

It was uphill work trying to hold out for the remaining 35 runs. Butthe losers were Englishmen, and long odds brought out their goodqualities. With solemn, almost ferocious, faces, the two last men inclung to their bats, and blocked, blocked, blocked, stealing now a bye, pilfering now a run out of the slips, and once or twice getting on theright side of a lob with a swipe that drew the hearts of Templeton intotheir mouths. 

A score of runs did those two add on to their hundred, and the seventygroaned as the chances of a single innings victory dwindled run by run. 

"Most frightful soak if they do us, " said Dick, addressing the audiencegenerally. "Why don't they try Mansfield?"

"Shut up. Lie down under the seat, and don't talk to me, " said Hooker, flushed with excitement. 

"Pledge has bowled four maidens running, " said Heathcote, determinedthat no one should blame the bowler _he_ had assisted to train. 

"What's the use of bowling maidens? Why don't he bowl the boys, andhave done with it?" said Duffield. 

Dick looked at Heathcote; Heathcote looked at Dick; Duffield hummed aditty. How could he do such a thing at such a time, and in such aplace? Oh, had he been only in the Mountjoy waggonette on a lonelyroad, what a business meeting they could have held! As it was, therewas only time to crush the debtor's hat down over his eyes, and dig himon each side in the ribs, when a general stir betokened some importantmovement on the field of battle. 

"By George! they're going to change bowlers, " said Hooker. "Quite time, too. "

"No, they're not, " replied Dick, "they're going to change ends. Awfullow trick to put Cresswell with the light in his eyes. "

"Pledge has had it in his all the last hour, " said Heathcote. 

"Shut up, you kids, and don't make such a row. You can talk when we'rein at supper, " said a Fifth-form fellow. 

The allusion was a depressing one. More than once it had crossed ourheroes' minds that supper was coming on; but the chances of their"cheeking in" (as they called it) to that part of the day'sentertainment were, to say the least, narrow. 

At any rate, the allusion made them sad, and they relapsed into silenceas the bowlers changed ends, and Pledge prepared to attack from his newbase. 

There was a sudden uncomfortable silence all round the meadow. Grandcourt felt that if they could weather the storm a few overs longerthey might yet avert the disgrace of a single innings defeat. Templetonfelt, with decided qualms, that unless the change told quickly, it hadbetter not have been made at all. The eleven stepped in a bit, andwatched the ball with anxious faces. Ponty, alone, with one hand in hispocket, yawned, and looked somewhere else. "What's the odds to Ponty?"thought the seventy, marvelling how any one could look so unconcerned atsuch a crisis. 

Pledge bowled one of his finest, awkwardest, most disconcerting slows. The cautious batsman was proof against its syren-like allurements, andstepped back to block what any one else would have stepped forward toslog. The ball broke up sharp against his bat, and Grandcourt began tobreathe again as they saw its progress arrested. 

But at that particular moment it appeared to enter dear old Ponty's headto take his hand out of his pocket and stroll forward a pace or two fromhis place at point in the direction of the wicket. And somehow oranother it seemed to him that while he was there he might as well pickup the ball, as it dropped off the end of the bat on its way to theground. 

Which he did. And as every one looked on, and wondered what little gamehe was up to, it occurred to the umpire that it was a catch, and thatthe match was at an end. 

Whereupon, the truth flashed round the field like an electric shock, andthe crowds broke into the meadow in wild excitement, while the seventy, crimson with cheers, formed column and went for their men. 

Poor Ponty had a hard time of it getting back to the tent, and halfrepented of his feat. But it did him and Templeton good, when they cameupon the headquarters of Grandcourt, to hear the hearty cheers withwhich the vanquished hailed their victors. 

Chivalry is infectious. For the next quarter of an hour the meadow wasgiven up to cheers by Templeton for Grandcourt, and cheers by Grandcourtfor Templeton, in which the gallant seventy-two, despite their numericalinferiority, held their own with admirable pluck. 

Then, a mighty bell tolled out across the meads, and conqueror andconquered, united in the brotherhood of appetite and good fellowship, turned in to supper, carrying their cheers with them. 

Now was the hour of our heroes' perplexity. For, be it said to theircredit as gentlemen, that however easily they may have got over theirscruples as to breaking Templeton rules, riding in Templeton coaches, and enjoying themselves in the Grandcourt meadows, they had somehesitation about making free with the Grandcourt supper without a rathermore precise invitation than they were already possessed of. 

So they lagged a little behind the seventy, put their Templeton badgesconspicuously forward, and tried to look as if supper had never enteredinto their calculations. 

"Aren't you two fellows coming to supper?" said a Grandcourt senior, overtaking them as they dawdled along. 

"Thanks, awfully, " said they; "perhaps there won't be room. "

"Rather!" said the hospitable enemy, "you two won't crowd us out. "

"We'll sit close, you know, " said Dick. 

"Better not sit too close to begin with, " said the Grandcourt boy, laughing, "or it'll be real jam before supper's over. Cut on and joinyour fellows, and squeeze into the first seat you can find. "

The first seat our heroes found was one between Ponty and the Grandcourthead master, which, on consideration, they decided not to beappropriate. They therefore made hard for the other end of the room, and wedged themselves in among a lot of jolly Grandcourt juniors, whohailed them with vociferous cheers, and commenced to load them with aliberal share of all the good things the hospitable table groaned under. 

Happy for Dick and Heathcote had they taken advice and begun the orgy athalf distance! But they survived the "jam;" and what with chicken pie, and beef and ham, and gooseberry pie and shandy-gaff, to say nothing ofjokes and laughter, and vows of eternal friendship with every Grandcourtfellow within hail, they never (to quote the experience of the littlefoxes in the nursery rhyme) "they never eat a better meal in all theirlife. "

They could have gone on all night. But alas! envious time, that turnsday to night, and hangs its pall between our eyes and the light of oureyes, put an end to the banquet. The coaches clattered up to theGrandcourt gate; the seventy, with their wraps and coats, were escorted, by their hosts in a body, to the chariots; horns sounded; cheersanswered cheers; caps waved; whips cracked, and in five minutes theGrandcourt gate was as silent as if it guarded, not a fortress of heartyschoolboys, but a deserted, time-ruined monastery. 

CHAPTER TWELVE. 

IN WHICH NEMESIS HAS A BUSY TIME OF IT. 

Our heroes had all along had a presentiment that their troubles wouldbegin some time or other. They had expected it at the very start; butit had been put off stage by stage throughout the day, until it reallyseemed as if it must make haste, if it was to come at all. 

And yet everything had gone so smoothly so far; the day had been sosuccessful, the match so glorious, the supper so gorgeous, that theycould hardly bring themselves to think Nemesis would really pounce uponthem. 

That worthy lady, however, though she often takes long credit, alwayspays her debts in the long run, and our heroes found her waiting forthem before Grandcourt was many miles behind them. 

They had been baulked in their intention of getting back into thefriendly shelter of coach five at the outset, by the very awkward factthat Mansfield would stand at the door of Grandcourt, talking to afriend, until coach five had received its passengers, and started. Coach six followed, and to the horror of our two skulkers the way wasstill blocked. Things were getting desperate. The top of number _six_was packed, and still Mansfield stood across the door. 

Should they throw themselves on his mercy, or hurl themselves betweenhis feet, and overturn him, if haply they might escape in the confusion?How they hated that Grandcourt fellow who talked to him. What businesshad he to keep a Templeton fellow there catching cold? Why hadn't allGrandcourt been ordered to bed directly after supper?

Horrors! Coach six shouted "All right!" and rattled off. 

"We're done for, " said Heathcote. "We may as well show up. "

"Stay where you are, " said Dick; "we shall have to hang on behind thecoach the Eleven go in. "

"But, Dick, they're all monitors!"

"Can't be helped, " said Dick, peremptorily. 

The Eleven's coach drove up, and all Grandcourt turned out with a finalcheer for their conquerors. Mansfield shook hands with his friend, andclimbed up on to the box. The rest followed. Ponty rambled out amongthe last. He looked up at the crowded roof, and didn't like it. It wasfar too much grind for the dear fellow to swarm up there. 

"I'll go inside, Cresswell. Come on; we'll get a seat each, and makeourselves comfortable. "

Cresswell laughed. 

"If you hadn't made that catch, old man, " said he, "I'd say you were thelaziest beggar I ever saw. But as you've a right to give your orders, I'll obey. Lead on, mighty captain. "

Our heroes shivered, and wondered if any sin in the calendar were equalto that of sloth! With all the Eleven on the top, they had had a chanceyet of weathering "Mrs" Nemesis, and hanging on behind. But with thecaptain and whipper-in inside, they might as well try and hang on alion's tail. 

"All U P, old man, " groaned Heathcote. 

"Slip out sharp!" said Dick excitedly. "Our only chance is to get aheadof them, and pick them up on the road. "

Scarcely any one noticed the two dismayed little Templetonians, as theysqueezed out of the gate, with their caps drawn over their eyes, andtheir heads diligently turned away from the coach of the Eleven. Onefellow, however, spotted them, and scared the wits out of them, bysaying "Hallo! here are two youngsters left behind. Get inside thiscoach; there's lots of room. Look alive, they're starting. "

"Oh, thanks!" said Dick, scarcely able to speak for the jumping of hisheart, "we're going to do a trot the first mile or so. Thanks awfully!Good-bye. " And to the amazement of the Grandcourtier, the small pairstarted to run with their heads down and their fists up, at the rate ofseven miles an hour. 

"By George, " thought he to himself, "some of those Templeton kids go thepace. "

The pleasant village of Grandcourt was startled that evening, as theshades of night fell, by the sight of two small boys trotting hard downthe High Street, side by side, some three hundred yards in advance ofthe coach which carried the conquering heroes of Templeton; like easterncouriers who run before the chaise of the great man. But those twoheeded neither looks nor jeers; their ears were deaf to the cry of "Stopthief, " and shouts of "Two to one on Sandy, " stirred no emotions intheir fluttering breasts. Luckily for them the road began uphill, sothey were able to get a fair start by the time the village was clear. When at last they pulled up breathless at the road-side, they could seethe lamp of the coach a quarter of a mile down the road, advancingslowly. 

"It's touch and go, " said Heathcote, "if we do it without gettingnabbed. That wretched light shows up everything. "

"Yes, I don't like it, " said Dick; "we'd better lie down in the ditch, Georgie, till it's got past. They'll trot as soon as they get up hereon to the level, and we must make a shot at the step. Those fellowsinside are sure not to be looking out. "

It was an anxious few minutes as the light approached, and shot its raysover the prostrate bodies of the boys in the ditch. They dared not lifttheir faces as it passed, and it was only when, as Dick had predicted, the walk changed into a trot, that they started from their lurking-place, and gave chase. 

"Why, " groaned Heathcote, as they came up, "it's got no step!"

For once, Dick was gravelled. The idea that the coach was not like allthe other coaches had never once crossed his mind; and he felt beaten. The two unhappy pursuers, however, kept up the chase, pawing theforbidding coach door, very much as kittens paw the outside of a gold-fish bowl. 

Alas! there was nothing to lay hold of; not even a handle or a nail!

"Shall we yell?" gasped Heathcote, nearly at the end of his wind. 

"Wait a bit. Is there anything underneath we could lay hold of?"

They groped, but, as it seemed, fruitlessly. Dick, however, stoopedagain, and next moment turned round radiant. 

"There's a bit of string, " said he. "Keep it up, old man, and we'll gethold of it. "

With much diving he succeeded in picking up the end of a casual piece ofstring that had somehow got its other end fastened to a nut underneaththe coach. As quick as thought he whipped out his handkerchief andlooped it on to the string. Then Heathcote whipped out his handkerchiefand looped it on to Dick's, and between them the two held on grimly, andtried to fancy their troubles were at an end. 

The support of a piece of stray string at the tail of a coach, supplemented by two pocket-handkerchiefs, may be grateful, but forpractical purposes it is at best a flimsy stay, and had it not been foroccasional hills at which to breathe, our heroes might have found it outat once. 

As it was, they were carried three or four miles on their way by thepurely moral support of their holdfast until the last of the hills wasclimbed, and the long steady slope which led down to Templeton openedbefore the travellers and reminded the horses of corn and stable. Thena trot began, which put the actual support of the extemporised cable tothe test. 

Our heroes, worn out already, could not, try all they would, keep itslack. Every step it became tauter and tauter, until at last you mighthave played a tune upon it. They made one gallant effort to relieve thestrain, but, alas! it was no good. There was a crack of the whip ahead, the horses, full of their coming supper, gave a bound forward, and thatmoment on the lonely road, five miles from home, sprawled Heathcote, with Dick in his lap, and two knotted pocket-handkerchiefs in the dustat their feet. They had no breath left to shout, no energy to overtake, so they sat there panting, watching the coach vanish into the night andhumbly wondering--what next?

"Here's a soak!" said Heathcote at last, recovering speech and slowlyuntying his handkerchief from the cable in order to mop his face. 

"Yes, " said Dick, getting off his friend's lap and looking dismally downthe road; "our ride home didn't come off after all. "

"We came off, though!" said Heathcote. But he corrected himself as hesaw Dick wearily round upon him. "I mean--I say, what must we do?"

"Stump it, " said Dick. "It's about five miles. "

Heathcote whistled. 

"Pity we didn't cheek it into our own coach, " said he. "I say, Dick, what a row there'll be!"

"Of course there will, " said Dick. "Have you only just found that out?Come along; we'll be late. "

Considering it was eight o'clock and they were yet five miles from home, this last observation was sagacious. 

They strolled on for half an hour in silence, mending their pace as theyrecovered their wind, until at the end of that time they had settleddown into a steady three-and-a-half miles an hour, and felt rather morelike getting home than they had done. 

"Another hour will do it, " said Dick. "I say, we might smuggle in afterall, Georgie. What a crow if we do, eh?"

Georgie inwardly reflected that there would be a crow of some sort orother whatever happened, but he prudently reserved his opinion and said, "Rather!"

"We ought to come to the cross-roads before long, " said Dick. "I hopeto goodness you know which one goes to Templeton. "

"No, I don't; but there's bound to be a post. "

There was a post, but, though they climbed up it and rubbed their eye-lashes along each arm, they could get no guiding out of it. They couldsee an L on one arm, and an N on another, and a full stop on each of theother two, but, even with this intelligence, they felt that the road toTempleton was still open to doubt, as, indeed, after their wanderingsround and round the sign-post, they presently had to admit was the casewith the road by which they had just come. 

"We'd better make ourselves snug here for the night, " said Heathcote, who fully took in the situation. 

"That would be coming to a full stop with a vengeance!" said Dick. 

"Shut up; I let you off--and, by Jove, here's somebody coming!"

The red embers of a pipe, followed by a hulking nautical form, hoveslowly in sight as he spoke, and never did a sail cheer the eyes ofshipwrecked mariners as did this apparition bring comfort to Dick andHeathcote. 

"I say, " said the former, advancing out of the shades and almoststartling the unsuspecting salt, "we've lost our way. Which road goesto Templeton?"

The big sailor gave a grunt and lay to in an unsteady way, whichconvinced our heroes, unlearned as they were in such matters, that hewasn't quite sober. 

"What d'yer want ter go ter Templeton fur?" demanded he. 

"We belong to the school, and we've got left behind. "

The sailor laughed an unsympathetic laugh and took his pipe out of hismouth. 

"Yer belong to the school, do yer, and yer've lost yer way?"

"Yes; can you put us right?"

"Yes, I can put yer right, " said the brawny young salt, putting his pipeback between his lips. "What'll yer stand?"

"We'll give you a shilling, " said Dick. 

"Yer will? Yer'll give me a sovereign apiece, or I'll bash yer!"

And he laid a hand on the arm of each of his victims, chuckling andsmoking as he looked down on their puny efforts to escape. 

"Turn out yer pockets, nobs!" said he, giving them a slight admonitoryshake. 

"I haven't got a sovereign, " said Heathcote. 

Dick did not even condescend to plead; he fell headlong on his hugeopponent, shouting, in the midst of his blows--

"Let us go, do you hear? I know your name; you're Tom White, theboatman, and I'll get you locked up if you don't. "

But even this valiant threat, and the still more valiant struggles ofthe two boys, availed nothing with the nautical highwayman, who smoked, and shook the bones of his wretched captives, till they were fain tocall for mercy. 

The mercy was dearly bought. Dick's half-sovereign, Heathcote's twelveshillings, the penknife with the gouge, among them did not make up theprice. One by one their pockets were turned inside out, and whateverthere took the fancy of the noble mariner went into the ransom. Pencils, india-rubber, keys, and even a photograph of Dick's mother wereimpounded; while resistance, or even expostulation only added bone-shaking into the bargain; till, at last, the unhappy lambs were glad toassist at their own fleecing, in order to expedite their release. 

"There yer are, " said Tom, when at last the operation was over, "that'sabout all I want of yer, my hearties; and if yer want the road toTempleton, that's she, and good-night to yer, and thank yer kindly. Next time yer want a sail, don't forget to give an honest jack tar aturn. Knows my name, do yer? Blessed if I ever see you afore. "

"You're a beastly, low, tipsy thief, " shouted Dick, from a respectfuldistance, "and we'll get you paid out for this. "

And not waiting for a reply, the two unfortunates, less heavily weightedthan ever, started down the road, snorting with rage and indignation andfull of thoughts of the direst revenge. 

Nemesis was coming down on them at last with a vengeance!

Two miles they went before speech came to the relief of their woundedfeelings. 

"It's transportation, " said Heathcote. 

"Cat-o'-nine-tails too, " said Dick. 

"Jolly good job, " said Heathcote. 

And they went on another mile. 

Then it occurred to them this was not the road along which they haddriven in the morning; and once more the villainy of Tom White brokeupon them in all its blackness. 

"He's sent us upon the wrong road!" said Heathcote, beginning at last tofeel that Nemesis was a little overdoing it. 

Dick gulped down something, and walked on in silence. 

"Where are you going? What's the use of going on?"

"May as well, " said Dick, striding on. "It's bound to lead somewhere. "

In which comfortable conviction they accomplished another half-mile. 

Then to their satisfaction, and somewhat to Dick's self-satisfaction, they heard a low noise ahead, which they knew must be the sea. 

"I thought it would bring us out, " said Dick. "When once we get at thesea, we can't help finding Templeton. "

"Unless we take a wrong turn to start with, and then we shall have towalk all round England before we turn up. "

"Shut up, Georgie, we've had foolery enough for one night. "

Heathcote collapsed, and another mile brought the two wanderers to thesea. 

Luckily for them, the rising moon came to their rescue in decidingwhereabouts they were. 

"Not far out, " said Dick, "there's the Sprit Rock; two miles more willdo it. "

"I shan't be sorry when I'm in bed, " said Heathcote. 

"I shan't be sorry when I see Tom White hung. I say, we may as wellhave a dip before we go on. "

So they solaced themselves with a plunge in the moonlit sea, which, after their dusty labours, was wonderfully refreshing. Having dressedagain, all but their shoes and stockings, which they looped together andhung over their shoulders, they tucked up their trousers, and started towade along the strand to their journey's end. 

The tide had only just started to come in, so they had the benefit ofthe hard sand, which, combined with the soft, refreshing water and thebright moonlight, rendered their pilgrimage as pleasant as, under thecircumstances, they could have desired. Their talk was of Thomas White, for whom it was well he was not within earshot. They arrested him, tried him, sentenced him, flogged him, transported him, and yet were notsatisfied. 

"You know, Georgie, " said Dick, working himself into a fury, "hecollared my mother's photograph! the low cad! I'd be a beast if Ididn't pay him out. "

"Rather! and I'll back you up, old man. I was going to get a tennis-batwith that twelve bob; the blackguard!"

About a mile from home the lights of Templeton hove in sight; but stillour heroes' talk was of Tom White and the next assizes. 

They had the beach to themselves, with only a few stranded boats forcompany, over whose anchors they had to pick their way gingerly. 

"The tide's coming in at a lick, " said Dick. "Half an hour later, weshould have had to tramp on the soft sand-- Lookout, you duffer!"

The last remark was caused by Heathcote tripping over a rope, and comingdown all fours on the wet sand. 

"Bother that rope, " said he, "I never saw it. I say, it's rather asmall one for that big boat, isn't it?"

"It is, " said Dick, walking round to the stern of the boat in question, "its-- Hallo, I say, Georgie, look here!"

Georgie looked in the direction of Dick's finger, and read the words, "'_Martha_, ' _Thomas White, Templeton_" on the stern of the boat. 

Both boys whistled. Then Dick marched resolutely up to the bows, over athwart in which the anchor rope was hitched in a loop. 

"Tom White must have been drunk when he anchored this boat, " said Dick. "She'll never hold if the wind gets up. "

"Good job, too, " said Heathcote. 

"So I think, " said Dick, thoughtfully. "I say, Georgie, " added he, withhis fingers playing on the end of the loop, "Tom White's a frightfulcad, isn't he?"

"Rather!"

"And a thief, too?"

"I should think so. "

"It would serve him jolly well right if he lost his boat. "

"He don't deserve to have a boat at all. "

"This knot, " said Dick, slipping the loop, "wouldn't hold against asingle lurch. Why, it comes undone in a fellow's hand--"

And the end dropped idly on the floor of the boat as he spoke. 

Heathcote nodded. 

"Think of the cad having robbed two juniors like us, and collaredmother's photograph, too, the brute!" said Dick, taking his friend's armand walking on. 

They talked no longer of Thomas White, but admired the moonlight, andwondered how soon the tide would be up, and speculated as to whetherthere wasn't a breeze getting up off the land. Once they turned back, and glanced at the black hull, lying, still aground, with the tide yardsaway yet. Then they thought a trot would warm them up before they puton their boots, and mounted the cliff to Templeton. 

The clock struck half-past eleven as they knocked modestly at theporter's lodge. The porter was up, and evidently expected them. 

"Nice goings-on, young gentlemen, " said he. "The Doctor wishes to seeyou after chapel in the morning. In you go. I'm sorry for you. "

With fluttering hearts they stole across the moonlit Quadrangle, andgazed round at the grim windows that peered down on them from everyside. The housekeeper was up and ready for them, too. 

"Bad boys, " said she, as she opened the door; "go to bed quietly, andmake no noise. The Doctor will be ready for you the moment chapel isover. "

They mounted the creaking stairs, and crawled guiltily along the passageto their dormitory. 

The dormitory monitor was sitting up in bed ready for them, too. 

"Oh, you have turned up, have you?" said he. "I hope you'll enjoyyourselves with Winter in the morning. Most of the fellows say it'sexpulsion; but I rather fancy a licking, myself. Cut into bed, anddon't make a noise. "

And he curled himself up in his bedclothes, and slept the sleep of thejust, which was more than could be said for the fitful slumbers of ourheroes, which visions of Tom White's boat, and Ponty's pocket, and thepiece of string at the tail of the Eleven's coach, combined to make thereverse of sound. 

In the middle of the night Dick, as he lay awake, felt Heathcote's handnudging him. 

"I say, Dick!" said the latter, "the wind's got up. Do you hear it?"

"Shut up, Georgie. I'm just asleep. "

Nemesis handed in her last cheque to our heroes after chapel nextmorning in the Doctor's study. I will spare the reader the harrowingdetails of that serious interview. Suffice it to say that the dormitoryfag was right, and that Mrs Partlett was spared the trouble of packingup the two young gentlemen's wardrobes. 

But they emerged from the study wiser and sadder men. They knew moreabout the properties of a certain flexible wood than they had everdreamed of before. They also felt themselves marked men in highquarters, with a blot on their new boy's scutcheon which it would take aheap of virtue to efface. 

"By George!" said Dick that afternoon, "we got it hot--too hot, Georgie. "

"I think Winter might have let us down rather easier, myself, " saidGeorgie. 

There was a pause. 

"Was it windy last night?" asked Dick. 

"Rather!" said Georgie. 

"Anything new down town?"

"Couldn't hear anything. "

"Hum! I wonder what that beast's done with mother's photograph? I say, Georgie, what a howling brute he was!"

"He was; he deserves anything. "

Strange, if so, that neither of our young heroes went to the policestation and informed against their man. On the contrary, they went upon to the cliffs after school, and scanned the bay from headland toheadland, doubtless lost in the wonders of the deep, and wishing verymuch they could tell what the wild waves were saying as to thewhereabouts of the _Martha_. 

CHAPTER THIRTEEN. 

'TWIXT SCYLLA AND CHARYBDIS. 

Perhaps no epoch of a schoolboy's life is more critical--especially ifhe be of the open-hearted nature of Dick and Heathcote--than that whichimmediately follows his first punishment at the hands of the law. 

On the one hand he has the sense of disgrace which attends personalchastisement, as well as the discomfort of a forfeited good name, andthe feeling of being down on the black books of the school authoritiesgenerally. On the other hand, he is sure to meet with a certain numberof companions who, if they do not exactly admire what he has done, sympathise with him in what he has suffered; and sympathy at such a timeis sweet and seducing. A little too much sympathy will make him feel amartyr, and a little martyrdom will make him feel a hero, and once ahero on account of his misdeeds, he needs a stout heart and a steadyhead to keep himself from going one step further and becoming aprofessional evil-doer, and ending a fool and his own worst enemy. 

Dick and Heathcote ran a serious risk of being shunted on to the road toruin after the escapade of the Grandcourt match. 

The former discovered that his popularity with the Den was by no meansimpaired by adversity. In fact, he jumped at one bound to the herostage of his ordeal. He was but a boy of flesh and blood, and sympathyis a sweet salve for smarting flesh and blood. 

After the first burst of contrition it pleased him to hear fellows say--

"Hard lines on you, old man. Not another in a hundred would havecheeked it the way you did. "

It pleased him, too, to see boys smaller than himself look round as theypassed him, and whisper something which made their companions turn roundtoo. Dick grew fond of small boys as the term went on. 

It pleased him still more to be taken notice of by a few bigger boys, tofind himself claimed by Hooker and Duffield as a crony, to be banteredby the aesthetic Wrangham, and patronised by the stout Bull. 

All this made him go over the adventures of that memorable day often inhis mind, and think that after all it wasn't a bad day's sport, andthat, though he said so who shouldn't, he had managed things fairlywell, and got his money's worth. 

His money's worth, however, reminded him of his lost half-sovereign andhis mother's photograph, and these reflections usually pulled him upshort in his reminiscences. 

Heathcote, in a more philosophical and dismal way, had his perils, andPledge gave him no help through his difficulty. On the contrary, heencouraged his growing discontent. 

"Dismals again?" said he, one evening. "That cane of Winter's must be astiff one if it cuts you up like that. "

"Winter always does lay it on thick to the kids, though, " said Wrangham, who happened to be present. "His lickings are in inverse ratio to thesize of the licked. "

It did comfort Heathcote to hear his case discussed in such learned andmathematical terms, but that was all the consolation he got. 

Dick was in far too exalted a frame of mind to give much assistance. 

"What does it matter?" said he, recklessly. "I don't mean to fretmyself. "

And so the matter ended for the present. The two friends were bearingtheir ordeal in two such different ways that they might almost haveparted company, had there not been another common interest of stillgreater importance to bind them together. 

One day Heathcote came up from the "Tub" at a canter and caught hisfriend at the chapel door. 

"Dick, " he said, "it's all out! This bill was sticking on one of theposts by the pier. It was wet, so I took it off. "

Dick read--"_£2_ reward. Lost or stolen from her moorings, on TempletonStrand, on the 4th inst, a lugger-rigged sailing boat, named the_Martha_. Any one giving information leading to the recovery of theboat--or if stolen, to the conviction of the thief--will receive theabove reward. Police Station, Templeton. "

Dick handed the ominous paper back with a long face. 

"Here, take it. Whatever did you pull it off the post for?"

"I thought you'd like to see it, " said Heathcote, putting the despiseddocument into his pocket. 

"So I did. Thanks, Georgie. We didn't steal the boat, did we?"

"Rather not. Not like what he did to our money. "

"No. That was downright robbery. "

"With violence, " added Heathcote. 

"Of course. It was really Tom White's fault the boat got adrift. Itwas so carelessly anchored. "

"Yes. A puff of wind would have slipped that knot. "

There was a pause. 

"It's plain he doesn't guess anything, " said Dick. 

"Not likely. And he's not likely to say anything about it, if he does. "

"Of course not. It would mean transportation for him. "

"After all, some one may have gone off with the boat. We can't tell. It was there all right when we saw it, wasn't it?"

Dick looked at his friend. He could delude himself up to a certainpoint, but this plea wouldn't quite wash. 

"Most likely they'll find it. It may have drifted round to Birkens, orsome place like that. It'll be all right, Georgie. "

But the thoughts of that unlucky boat haunted their peace. That TomWhite had only got his deserts they never questioned; but they wouldhave been more comfortable if that loop had slipped itself. 

Days went on, and still no tidings reached them. The bills faced themwherever they went, and once, as they passed the boat-house with a crowdof other fellows, they received a shock by seeing Tom White himselfsitting and smoking on a bench, and looking contemplatingly out to sea. 

"There's Tom White, " said one of the group. "I say, " shouted he, "haveyou found your boat, Tom?"

Tom looked up and scanned the group. Our heroes' hearts were in theirboots as his eyes met theirs. But to their relief he did not know them. A half-tipsy man on a dark night is not a good hand at rememberingfaces. 

"Found her? No, I aren't, young gentleman, " said he. 

"Hard lines. Hope you'll get her back, " said the boy. "I say, do youthink any one stole her?"

"May be, may be not, " replied the boatman. 

"Jolly rum thing about that boat, " said the spokesman of the party, asthe boys continued their walk. 

"I expect it got adrift somehow, " said another. 

"I don't know, " said the first. "I was speaking to a bobby about her:he says they think she was stolen; and fancy they've got a clue to thefellow. "

Heathcote stumbled for no apparent reason at this particular moment, andit was quite amusing to see the concern on Dick's face as he went to therescue. 

"Jolly low trick, " continued the boy, who appeared to interest himselfso deeply in Tom's loss, "if any one really took the boat away. Tomwill be ruined. "

"Who do they think went off with her?" asked another. 

"They don't say; but they're rather good at running things down, are ourpolice. Do you recollect the way they bowled out the fellow who triedto burn the boat-house last year, and got him six months?"

This police gossip was so alarming to our two heroes, that they gave uptaking walks along the beach, and retired to the privacy of the schoolboundaries, where there was no lack of occupation, indoor and out, torelieve the monotony of life. 

A week after the Grandcourt match, a boy called Braider came up to Dickand asked to speak to him. Braider was in the Fourth, and Dick knew ofhim as a racketty, roystering sort of fellow, very popular with his ownset--and thought something of by the Den, on account of some recentoffences against monitorial authority. 

"I say, " said he to Dick, confidentially, "what do you say to belongingto our Club?"

"What Club?" asked Dick, scenting some new distinction, and gettinglight-headed in consequence. 

"You'll promise not to go telling everybody, " said Braider. "We'recalled the 'Sociables, ' It's a jolly enough lot. Only twenty of us, andwe have suppers and concerts once a week. The thing is, it's _awfully_select, and a job to get into it. But your name was mentioned the otherday, and I fancy you'd get in. "

"I suppose Georgie Heathcote isn't in it?" said Dick. 

"Rather not!" said the other, mistaking his meaning; "he'd have nochance. "

"He's not a bad fellow, " said Dick. "I wouldn't mind if he was on. "

"Well, there are two vacancies. What do you say for one?"

"Do I know the other fellows?"

"Most of them, " and Braider repeated a string of names, among which werethose of a few well-known heroes of the Fifth and Fourth. 

"They're all jolly fellows, " said Braider, "and, back up one anotherlike one o'clock. It was your plucky show up at Grandcourt that madethem think of having you; and if you join you'll just be in time for thenext concert. What do you say?"

Dick didn't like to say no; and not being a youth who dallied muchbetween the positive and the negative, he said:

"All serene, Braider, if they really want it. "

"Of course they do, old man, " said Braider, in tones of satisfaction;"they'll be jolly glad. Mind you don't go talking about it to any one, you know. They're very select, and don't want all Templeton wanting tojoin. "

"When's the election?" asked Dick. 

"Oh! to-day week. There's one fellow, Culver, up against you; but he'sgot no chance. One black ball in six excludes, so it's always a closerun. "

"Do you think there would be any chance for young Heathcote?"

"Doubt it. But we might try when you're in. Ta, ta! old man. Mum'sthe word. "

Dick spent a troubled week. He was uncomfortable with Heathcote, inwhom he was bursting to confide. He was uneasy, too, in meeting the fewmembers of the "Sociables" whom he knew, and felt that they werewatching him critically, with a view to the election next Thursday. Andhe was vindictive in the presence of Culver, whose possible rivalry heregarded as little short of an insult. 

Indeed, the effect of the suspense on him was bad all round. For havingsomehow picked up the notion from Braider's hints that "spirit" was aleading qualification for aspiring members of the club, he was verynearly increasing that qualification notoriously, before the week wasout, by another row with headquarters. 

He purposely shirked his work, and behaved disorderly in class, in orderto show his patrons what he was made of; and what was worse, he eggedthe unsuspecting Georgie on to similar excesses by his example. Georgie, as far as "spirit" went, stood better qualified for membershipof the club at the week's end than did the real candidate; for while thelatter escaped punishment, the former was dropped upon to the tune ofthree hundred lines of Virgil, for throwing a book across the roomduring class. 

"Just my luck, " said he defiantly to his leader afterwards. "Everybody's down on me. I'm bound to catch it, so I may as well havemy fling. "

"You did have your fling, Georgie, and you caught it, too. "

Georgie was too out of humour to notice the jest. "You don't catch mecaring twopence about it, though, " said he. 

But his tones belied the valiant words, and Dick looked curiously at histroubled, harried face. 

"Why, Georgie, " said he, "you're down on your luck, old man. "

"Blow my luck!" said Georgie, "perhaps I am down on it. It serves meworse than yours. "

Dick didn't say anything more just then. Perhaps because he had nothingto say. But he didn't like this new state of things in his friend. Georgie was being spoiled, and would have to be looked after. 

Dick was not the only Templetonian who had made this brilliantdiscovery. Ponty had dropped a casual eye on him now and then, so hadMansfield; and neither the captain that was, nor the captain that was tobe, liked the look of things. 

"He's going the way of all--all the Pledgelings, " said Ponty. "Can'tyou stop it, Mansfield?"

"If I were captain of Templeton, I'd try, old man, " replied the other. 

"Really, Mansfield, you frighten me when you look so solemn. What can Ido?"

"Do? Take him away from where he is, to begin with. "

"On what grounds? Pledge hasn't done anything you or I could take holdof. And if the kid is going to the dogs, we can't connect it withPledge, any more than we can with Winter himself. "

And Ponty yawned, and wished Mansfield would not look as if somebodywanted hanging. 

"It's curious, at any rate, " said Mansfield, "that Pledge's fag shouldbegin to go to the dogs, while his chum, who fags for Cresswell, and isquite as racketty, should keep all right. "

"Do you call young Richardson all right?" asked Ponty. "I should say heand his friend are in the same boat, and he's holding the tiller. "

Which was pretty 'cute for a lazy one like Ponty. 

"Well, " said Mansfield, who, with all his earnestness, felt reallybaffled over the problem, "things mustn't go on as they are, surely. "

"Certainly not, dear boy, if we can make them better; but I don't seewhat's to be done. I'd bless you if you could put things right. "

And he put his feet upon the chair in front, and took up his novel. 

Mansfield took the hint. Nor did he misunderstand his indolent friend. Ponty's indolence wasn't all laziness. It was sometimes a cloak forperplexity; and the captain-to-be, as he said good-night, guessedshrewdly that not many pages of the novel would be skimmed that evening. 

Ponty did, in fact, wake up a bit those last few weeks of the term. Herambled down once or twice to the Juniors' tennis court, and terrifiedthe small fry there by sprawling at full length on the grass withinsight of the play. It was a crowded corner of the fields and a noisyone, and, if the captain went there for a nap, he had queer notions of asnug berth. If, however, he went there to see life, he knew what he wasabout. 

He saw Aspinall there, toughening every day, and working up his screwyservice patiently and doggedly, till one or two of the knowing onesfound it worth their while to get on the other side of the net and playagainst him. Culver was there, big of bone, bragging, blustering asever, but keeping the colour in his cheeks with healthy sport. Gossewas there, forgetting to make himself a nuisance for one hour in twenty-four. The globular Cazenove was there, melting with the heat, butproclaiming that even a big body and short legs can do some good by helpof a true eye and a patient spirit. These and twenty others were there, getting good every one of them, and atoning, every time they scored apoint and hit out a rally, for something less healthy or less profitablescored elsewhere. And Ponty, as he lay there blinking in the sun, moralised on the matter, and came to the conclusion that there is hopefor a boy as long as he loves to don his flannels and roll up his shirt-sleeves, and stand up, with his head in the air, to face his rival likea man. Even a Culver may look a gentleman as he rushes down to hiscorner and saves his match with a left-hander, and Aspinall himself mayappear formidable when, as he stands up to serve, his foeman pulls hiscap down and retreats with lengthened face across the service-line. 

But where were Dick and Heathcote? For a whole week Ponty took hissiesta in the Juniors' corner, blinking now at the cricket, now at thetennis, strolling sometimes into the gymnasium, and sometimes to thefives courts, but nowhere did Basil the son of Richard meet his eyes, and nowhere was Heathcote the Pledgeling. 

One day he did find the latter wandering like a ghost in the Quadrangle, and saw him bolt like a rat to his hole at sight of a monitor; and oncehe saw Dick striding at the head of a phalanx of Juniors, with his coatoff and his face very much on one side, and the marks of battle on hiseye and lip. Ponty sheered off before the triumphal army reached himand shrugged his shoulders. 

That afternoon he encountered our heroes arm-in-arm in the Quadrangleand hailed them. They obeyed his summons uneasily. 

"Go and put on your flannels, both of you, " said the captain, "and comeback here; I'll wait for you. "

In trepidation they obeyed and went, while Ponty looked about for a cozyseat on which to stretch himself. 

In five minutes they returned and presented themselves. Ponty eyed themboth calmly, and then roused himself and began to walk to the fields. 

Tennis was in full swing in the Junior corner, where all sorts of play, good, bad and indifferent, was going on at the nets. Ponty, followed bythe two bewildered champions, strolled about till he came upon anindifferent set being played by Gosse and Cazenove against Raggles andanother boy called Wade. 

"Stop the game for a bit, you youngsters, " said the captain. "Which twoof you are the best?"

"I think I and Raggles are, " said Gosse, with his usual modesty. 

"Oh, then you can sit out. Give your rackets to these two; they'regoing to play against Cazenove and Wade. "

Dick's heart sank within him as he took Gosse's racket and glanced up atthe captain's face. 

"I'm rather out of practice, " faltered he. 

"Come, are you ready? I'll umpire, " said the captain. 

It was a melancholy exhibition, that scratch match; all the moremelancholy that the other courts gradually emptied and a ring of Juniorsformed, who stared silently now at the players, then round at Pontifex, and wondered what on earth he found to interest him in a miserable showlike this. For our heroes mulled everything. Two faults were notenough for them; the holes in their rackets were legion, and their legsnever went the way they wanted. The Den blushed as it looked on andheard Ponty call, game after game, "Love--forty. "

Of course the two wretched boys were scared--Ponty knew that wellenough--but so were Cazenove and Wade. And yet Cazenove and Wademanaged to keep their wind and get over their net, and no one could saythey had less to be scared at than their opponents. 

At length the doleful spectacle was over. "One--six" was the score ingames. 

"You must be proud of your one game, " said Ponty, strolling off. 

Our heroes watched him go, and felt they were hard hit. It was no usepretending not to understand the captain's meaning, or not to notice thestill lingering blushes of the spectators on their account. 

So they withdrew sadly from the field of battle, chastened in spirit, yet not without a dawning ambition to make Ponty change his mindconcerning them before the term was quite run out. 

CHAPTER FOURTEEN. 

HOW DICK HAS ONE LATIN EXERCISE MORE THAN HE BARGAINED FOR. 

Dick did not often feel ashamed of himself. He had a knack of keepinghis head above water, even in reverses, which usually stood him in goodstead. But after that mournful scratch match with Cazenove and Wade, hecertainly did feel ashamed. 

And, be it said to the credit of his honesty, that he blamed the rightoffender. Ponty had been rough on him, but it wasn't Ponty's fault. Cazenove and Wade had knocked him and his chum into a cocked hat, but itwasn't Cazenove's or Wade's fault. Heathcote had mulled his gamedreadfully, and done nothing to save the match, but it wasn'tHeathcote's fault. Basil the son of Richard was the guilty man, andBasil the son of Richard kicked himself and called himself a fool. 

Not publicly, though. In the Den, despite the blushes his tennis hadcaused, he did his best to keep up his swagger and restore confidence bya few acts of special audacity; and the Den was forgiving on the whole. They did feel sore for a day, and showed it; but gradually they cameback to their allegiance, and made excuses for their hero of their ownaccord. 

If truth must be told, Dick was far more concerned as to the possibleeffect of his public humiliation on his election at "the Sociables, "which was now only a day off. 

Braider told him, with rather a long face, that his chances had beenrather shaken by the affair, and that there was again some talk ofpushing Culver against him. This alarming news drove all immediateprojects of virtue out of Dick's head. Not that membership of the clubwas his one ideal of bliss; but, being a candidate, he could not bearthe idea of being defeated, particularly by a young ruffian like Culver. So he indulged in all sorts of extravagances on the last day of hisprobation, and led Heathcote on to the very verge of a furtherpunishment in order to recover some of the ground he had lost with the"select" twenty. 

After school he could settle to nothing till he knew his fate. Hedragged the unsuspecting Heathcote up and down the great Quadrangleunder pretext of discussing Tom White's boat, but really in order tokeep his eye on the door behind which the select "Sociables" sat incongress. 

Heathcote saw there was a secret somewhere, and, feeling himself out ofit, departed somewhat moodily to Pledge's study. Dick, however, continued his walk, heedless if every friend on earth deserted him, solong as Culver should not be preferred before him behind that door. 

He was getting tired of this solitary promenade, and beginning to wonderwhether the "Select Sociables" had fallen asleep in the act of votingfor him, when a ball pitched suddenly on to the pavement between hisfeet. 

He couldn't tell where it came from--probably from some window above, for no one just then was about in the Quadrangle. 

He stooped down to pick it up and pitch it back into the first openwindow, when, greatly to his surprise, he saw his name written acrossit, and discovered that the ball was not a tennis ball at all, but around paper box, which came in two as he held it. 

Dick was not superstitious. He had scoffed at the Templeton ghost whenhe first heard of it, and made up his mind long since it was a bogeykept for the benefit of new boys. 

But it certainly gave him a start to find himself, at this late periodof the term, when he had almost forgotten he ever was a new boy, pitchedupon as the recipient of one of these mysterious missives. 

The letter inside was written in printed characters, like thoseaddressed to Heathcote. 

"Dick, " it began. 

"Hallo, " thought Dick to himself, "rather cheek of a ghost to call afellow by his Christian name, isn't it?"

"Dick, --Don't be a fool. You were a fine fellow when you came. Whatare you now? Don't let fellows lead you astray. You can be a finefellow without being a bad one. Let the 'Sociables' alone. They'llteach you to be a cad. If you don't care for yourself, think ofHeathcote, who only needs your encouragement to make a worse failurethan he has made already. Save him from Pledge. Then you'll be a finefellow, with a vengeance. Your real friend, --

"Junius. 

"P. S. --Translate 'Dominat qui in se dominatur. '"

The first thing that struck Dick about this extraordinary epistle was, that it was odd the ghost should write his letters on Templeton exercisepaper. It then occurred to him that it was rather rough to put himthrough his paces in Latin idioms at a time like this. Couldn't theghost get a dictionary, or ask a senior, and find out for himself?

It then occurred to him, who on earth was it who had written to him likethis? Some one who knew him, that was certain; and he almost fancied itmust be some one who liked him, for a fellow wouldn't take the troubleto tell him he was a fine fellow at the beginning of the term, and allthat sort of thing, unless he had a fancy for him. 

What did he mean by "What are you now?" It sounded as if he meant "Youare not a fine fellow now. " Rather a personal remark. 

"What's it got to do with him what I am now?" reflected Dick, digginghis hands into his pockets, and resuming his promenade. "And what doeshe mean by fellows leading me astray? Like to catch any one trying iton, that's all. Like to catch _him_, for the matter of that, for hishowling cheek!"

Dick sat down on one of the stone benches, and pulled out the letter foranother perusal. 

"'Let the Sociables alone. ' Oh, ah! most likely he's been blackballedhimself, and don't like any one to--. Humph! wonder if they _are_ ashady lot or not? What does he mean by saying they'll teach me to be acad? Who'll teach me to be a cad? Not a muff like Braider. "

At that moment a door opened at the end of the corridor, and a voiceshouted--

"Richardson!"

It was Braider's voice, and Dick knew it. 

He crumpled the letter up in his hand, and the colour came and went fromhis cheeks. 

"Richardson! where are you?" called Braider again, for it was dusk, andour hero's seat was screened from view. 

Dick coloured again, and bit his lips; and finally got up from thebench, and strolled off in an opposite direction. 

"Richardson! do you hear?" once more shouted the invisible Braider. 

Dick walked on in the dusk, wondering to himself whether Braider wouldget into a row for kicking up that uproar in the Quad. 

At last, after one final shout, he heard the door slam. Then hequickened his pace, and made for Cresswell's study. 

On the staircase he met Aspinall. 

"I heard some one calling you out in the Quad. , " said the small boy. 

"Did you?" replied Dick. "I wonder who it can have been? Is Cresswellin his study?"

"No. "

"All serene. Come back with me. Have you done your swot?"

"Yes, I did my lessons an hour ago. "

"Oh!" said Dick, and strode on, followed somewhat dubiously by his young_protege_. 

"Shut the door, " said Dick, sternly, as they entered the study. 

"Whatever is going to happen to me?" ejaculated the small boy, inwardly, as he obeyed. Dick had never spoken to him like this before. Had heoffended him unwittingly? Had he been disloyal to his sovereignty?

Dick walked to the fireplace, and, pulling a letter from his pocket, read it through twice, apparently heedless of his subject's presence. Then he looked up suddenly, and, crushing the paper viciously back intohis pocket, stared hard at his perturbed companion. 

"Young Aspinall, " said he, sharply, "do you say I'm a fool?"

"Oh, no, " replied the boy, staggered by the very suggestion, "I shouldnever think of saying such a thing. "

"Should you say I was a blackguard?"

"No, indeed, Dick. No one could say that. "

The hero's face brightened. There was a warmth in Aspinall's voicewhich touched the most sensitive side of his nature. Dick would haveliked the ghost to be near to hear it. 

"Should you say I've let myself be led astray, and made a mess of ithere, at Templeton?"

"No, Dick, I don't think so, " said the boy. 

"What do you mean? _don't think_. Have I, or have I not?" demandedDick. 

It was a delicate position for the timorous small boy. He had had hismisgivings about Dick, and seen a change in him, not, as he thought, forthe better. But the idea of telling him so to his face was as much ashis peace was worth. Yet he must either tell the truth, or a lie, andwhen it came to that, Aspinall could not help himself. 

"You are the best friend I've got, " said he, nervously, "and I'd giveanything to be as brave as you; but--"

"Well, wire in, " said Dick, tearing to bits one of Cresswell's quillpens with his teeth; "but what?"

"You're so good-natured, " said Aspinall, "fellows make you do things youwouldn't do of your own accord. "

"Who makes me do things?" demanded Dick, sternly. 

"I don't know, " pleaded the boy, feeling that this sort of tight-ropedancing was not in his line; "perhaps some of your friends in the Fourthand Fifth. But I may be all wrong. "

"What do they make me do?" said Dick. 

"They make you, " said Aspinall, feeling that it was no use trying tokeep his balance any longer, and that he might as well throw down hispole and tumble into the net; "they make you break rules and get intorows, Dick, because you see it goes down with them, and they cheer youfor it. You wouldn't do that of your own accord. "

"How do you know that?"

"I don't think you would, " said the boy. 

If any one had told Aspinall, ten minutes ago, he would be talking toDick in this strain, he would have scouted the idea as a bit of chaff. As it was, he could hardly believe he had said as much as he had, andwaited, in an uncomfortable sort of way, for Dick's next remark. 

"Oh! that's what you think, is it?"

"Please don't be angry, " pleaded the boy, "you asked me. "

"What about Heathcote?" demanded Dick, abruptly, after a pause. 

"What do you mean, Dick?"

"I mean, is he making a mess of it, too?"

"Oh, Dick; I never said you were making a mess, of it. "

"Well, then, is Heathcote being led astray?"

"I don't know. He seems different; and talks funnily about things. "

"Does what? I never heard Georgie talk funnily about things, and I'veknown him a good bit. Who's leading him astray? Am I?"

Poor Aspinall was on the tight-rope again, at the most ticklish part. For he did think Dick was running Heathcote into mischief, unintentionally, no doubt, but still unmistakably, "Am I?" repeatedDick, rounding on his man, and fixing him with his eyes. 

"Heathcote's not so strong-minded as you are, Dick, and when he sees youdoing things, I fancy he thinks he can do them too. But he can't pullup like you, and so he gets into rows. "

"Oh!" said Dick, returning to his quill pen, and completing itsdemolition. Then he pulled out the letter, and read it to himselfagain, and this time, instead of returning it to his pocket, twisted itup into a spill, and lit the gas with it. 

"What should you say was the English of 'Dominat qui in se dominatur, 'young 'un, " he asked, casually, when the operation was complete. 

"Why, that's one of the mottoes in the Quad, " said Aspinall, wonderingwhat on earth this had to do with Heathcote's rows. "I always fanciedit meant, 'He rules best, who knows how to rule himself. '"

"Which is the word for best, " asked Dick, critically, rather pleased tohave found a flaw in the motto. 

"Oh, I suppose it's understood, " said Aspinall. 

"Why couldn't he say what he meant, straight out?" said Dick, waxingwondrous wroth at the motto-maker, "there's plenty of room in the Quadfor an extra word. "

Aspinall quite blushed at this small explosion, and somehow feltpersonally implicated in the defects of the motto. 

"Perhaps I'm wrong, " said he. "Perhaps it means a fellow can't rule atall, unless he can rule himself. "

"That won't wash, " said Dick, profoundly. "Where's the '_nisi_?' Nevermind. Good-night, young Aspinall. I'm going to do my work here. "

And Aspinall departed, a good deal exercised in his mind as to Dick'slatest humour, but thankful, all the same, that he didn't appeardesperately offended with the answers he had extorted to his very homequestions. 

Dick did not do much "swot" that evening. He couldn't get the ghost outof his head, nor the slovenly Latin prose of the old Templeton motto-writer. 

"Qui in se dominatur. " What Latin! Dick pulled down Cresswell'sdictionary and looked up "se" and "dominatur, " and wished he had thefellow there to tell him he ought to be ashamed of himself. Why, itmight mean "who is ruled by his inside!" Perhaps it did mean that. 

But no, Dick couldn't get out of the hobble he was in. He tried everyway, but the right way. He denounced the ghost, he denounced Heathcote, he denounced the Latin grammar, but they always sent him back to wherehe started; until, finally, in sheer desperation, he had to denouncehimself. 

He was just beginning this congenial occupation, in as comfortable anattitude as he could, in Cresswell's easy-chair, when the study dooropened, and Braider entered. 

"Hallo! You're here, are you?" said that youth. "Why ever didn't youcome before? I told you to be in the Quad, and I'd call for you; didn'tI? You've got in a nice mess!"

Here was another candid friend going to tell him he'd got into a mess!

"What mess? Who with?"

"Why, with the Club. They elected you by a close shave, and expectedyou'd come in. I yelled all over the place for you, and couldn't findyou. So they thought you'd skulked, and were nearly going to takeCulver after all, when I promised to find you, and bring you. They'rewaiting for you now. "

"Awfully sorry, Braider, " said Dick, in an embarrassed way. "I can'tcome. "

"Can't come, you ass! What do you mean?"

This was just what Dick wanted. As long as Braider was civil, Dick hadto be rational, but as soon as Braider began to threaten, Dick could letout a bit, and relieve his feelings. 

"Look here! who are you calling an ass?" said he, starting up. 

Fortunately for the peace, Cresswell at that moment entered the study. 

"Hallo!" said he, looking round, "make yourselves at home in my study, youngsters. Can't you ask a few friends in as well? What's the row?"

"Braider's the row, " said Dick; "I want him to cut, and he won't. Hewants me to--"

"All right, " said Braider, in sudden concern, lest the secret of the"Sociables" was to be divulged, "I'll cut. And don't you forget, youngRichardson, what you've promised. "

"Of course I shan't, " said Dick. 

The select "Sociables" sat in congress to a late hour that night. Whatpassed, no one outside that worthy body exactly knew. But Braider, onthe whole, had a busy time of it. 

He did not visit Dick again, but he interviewed both Culver andHeathcote, and was extremely confidential with each. And both Culverand Heathcote, after preparation, lounged outside the door, as Dick hadlounged two hours before. And the two loungers, neither of themfancying the intrusion of the other, came to words, and from wordsproceeded to personalities, and from personalities to blows. 

And as, in the course of the combat, Heathcote made a mighty onslaughtand caught his enemy round the body and wrestled a fall with him on thethreshold of the "Sociable" door, it so happened that the door, notbeing securely latched, gave way beneath the weight of the twocombatants, and swinging suddenly open, precipitated them both on to thefloor of the apartment, just as the Club was proceeding to record itsvotes. 

Be it said to their credit, the select "Sociables" had a soul above mereroutine, and seeing the contest was even, and that blood was up on bothsides, they adjourned the business and hospitably invited the twocandidates to fight it out there and then. 

Which the two candidates did, with the result that, on the whole, Heathcote got rather less of the worst of it than Culver. Then, havingpolitely ejected them both, the Club returned to business, and electedGeorge Heathcote as a fit and proper person to fill the vacancy causedby the unjust expulsion of the late Alan Forbes. 

Heathcote was thereupon brought in and informed of the honour bestowedupon him; and after being sworn to secrecy, and promising to obey theClub in all things, was called upon for a speech. 

Heathcote's speech was short and memorable:--

"All serene. Anything you like. I don't care a hang. "

Every sentence of this brilliant oration was cheered to the echo, andHeathcote was installed into his new dignity with loud enthusiasm. 

He had not a ghost of an idea who the "Sociables" were, what they did, or what they wanted; but he had a rough idea they were a select assemblynot favoured by the monitors or the masters, in which a fellow waspopular in proportion to his record of "rows. "

And Heathcote, whose one ambition it was at present, under Pledge'sinfluence, not to figure as a prig or a hypocrite, cast his lot in withthem, and chanced the rest. 

It did occur to him to enquire if Dick was a member. 

"Yes, he's a member, rather, " said Spokes, the president. "He waselected this evening, wasn't he, you fellows?"

"Rather, " echoed the high-souled club, winking at one another. Whereupon Heathcote asked no more questions, and proceeded to enjoyhimself. 

As the Club was breaking up, Twiss, one of its leading spirits, came upto the new member and said--

"Look here, youngster, don't you forget you're on your honour not to saya word about the Club outside to anybody. Not to Pledge, or your chum, or anybody. "

"But Dick's a member too, " said Heathcote. 

"That does not matter. You mayn't even speak about it to me, or pretendyou belong to my set. Do you twig?"

"All right, " said Heathcote, "it's a good job you told me, though, for Iwas going to tell Dick about my election. "

"Well, you know now. You're on your honour, so are we all. "

Noble society! Organised dishonour held together in bonds of honour!If boys were only to cast round what is right the same shield of honourwhich they so often cast round what is wrong, what a world this wouldbe!

When Heathcote and Dick met that evening in the dormitory, they hadsomething more important to talk about or to be silent about than theselect "Sociables. "

"Look here, old man, " said Dick, thrusting a piece of newspaper into hisfriend's hand. "They wrapped up the notepaper I got in town to-day inthis. It's a bit of last week's _Templeton Observer_. "

Heathcote looked at the paragraph his friend pointed to, and read:--

 *The mysterious disappearance of a boat*. --Up to the present no news has been heard of the _Martha_ of Templeton, which is supposed to have been stolen from its moorings on the night of the 24th ult. The police, however, profess to have a clue to the perpetrators of the robbery. It is stated that late on the evening in question a lad, without shoes or stockings, was seen on the strand in the neighbourhood of the boat, and as the lad has been lost sight of since, it is supposed he may be concerned. At present the police are unable to give a description of the suspected lad, but vigilant enquiries are being prosecuted, and it is hoped that before long the mystery may be solved and the culprit brought to justice. 

CHAPTER FIFTEEN. 

IN WHICH OUR HEROES DO NOT DISTINGUISH THEMSELVES. 

One result of the alarming paragraph in the _Templeton Observer_ was, that Dick and Heathcote for the remainder of the term became models ofvirtue as far as going out of school bounds was concerned. 

Other boys might stray down the High Street and look at the shops, butthey didn't. Others might go down to the beach and become familiar withthe boatmen, but our heroes were far too respectable. Others might"mitch" off for a private cruise round Sprit Rock in quest of whiting, or other treasures of the deep; but Dick and Georgie would not sullytheir fair fame with any such breach of Templeton rules. 

They kept up early morning "Tub, " but that was the limit of theirwanderings from the fold, and it was often amusing to mark the diligencewith which they always took to drying their heads with the towels on theway up, if ever a boatman happened to cross their path. 

Heathcote on more than one occasion was compelled, politely but firmly, to decline Pledge's commissions into the town, although it sometimescost him words, and, worse still, sneers from his patron. 

Once, however, he had to yield, and a terrible afternoon he spent inconsequence. 

"Youngster, " said the 'Spider, ' "I want you to go to Webster's in HighStreet and get a book for me. "

"Afraid I can't, Pledge, " said Heathcote. "I must swot this afternoon. "

"What have you got to do?"

"There's thirty lines of Cicero, and I haven't looked at them. "

"I'll do it for you before you come back. "

"And there are some Latin verses for Westover, too. "

"Leave them with me, too. "

Heathcote felt uncomfortable, and it occurred to him it was not right toaccept another's help. 

"I think I ought to do them myself, " said he, "I don't like having themdone for me. "

"Quite right, my dear young friend. You're beginning to find out itpays to be a good little boy, are you? I always said you would. I onlyhope you'll make a good thing of it. "

Heathcote coloured up violently. 

"It's not that at all, " said he, "it's only-- would it do if I wentafter preparation this evening?"

"What! Saint George propose to break rules? Well, I am shocked; afterall my pains, too. No, my child, I couldn't let you do this wickedthing. "

"What book am I to ask for?" said Heathcote, giving it up. 

"Thanks, old man. There's something better than the saint in you, afterall. Tell Webster it's the book I ordered last week. It is paid for. "

Heathcote started on his mission with a heavy heart. He had lost caste, he feared, with Pledge, and he was running into the enemy's country andperilling not only himself, but Dick, in the venture. 

He made fearful and wonderful detours to avoid a few stragglingpolicemen, or any figure which in the distance looked remotely like aBritish seaman. The sight of a shopkeeper sitting at his door andreading the _Templeton Observer_ scared him, and the bill offering areward for his discovery all but drove him headlong back to the schoolwithout accomplishing his mission. 

At length, after an anxious voyage, he ran into Mr Webster's harbour, and for a little while breathed again. 

The bookseller knew quite well what book Pledge had ordered. 

"Here it is, " said he, handing over a small parcel, "and I'd advise youto get rid of it as soon as you can. It would do you no good to befound in your pocket, or Mr Pledge either, " he added. 

"He says it's paid for, " said Heathcote. 

"Quite right. " Then, noticing that the boy still seemed reluctant tolaunch forth once more into the High Street, he said--

"Perhaps you'd like to look round the shop, Mr Heathcote?"

Heathcote thought he would, and spent a quarter of an hour ininvestigating Mr Webster's shelves of books. 

Just as he was about to leave, Duffield and the "sociable" Ragglesentered the shop. 

"Hullo, Georgie!" said the latter; "who'd have thought of seeing you inthe town? Everyone says you're keeping out of the way of the police, don't they, Duff?"

"Yes, " said Duffield, perceiving the joke, "for some burglary, orsomething like that. "

Heathcote breathed again at the word burglary, and made an heroic effortto smile. 

"Not at all, " said Raggles, nudging his ally; "not a burglary, but boat-stealing, isn't it, Webster?"

"Ah, " said Mr Webster, who was a good man of business and fond of hisjoke, "they never did find that young party, certainly. "

"Shut up and don't be a fool!" said Heathcote, feeling the colour comingto his face, and longing to be out in the open air. 

"What's this the description was?" said Duffield, perching himself onthe corner of the counter and reading off the unhappy Heathcote'spersonal appearance. "Good-looking boy of fourteen, with fair hair anda slight moustache. Dressed in a grey tweed suit, masher collar, andtwo tin sleeve-links. Not very intelligent, and usually wears a smudgeof ink under his right eye. Isn't that it?"

"That's something about the mark, " said Mr Webster, laughing. 

"Think of offering two pounds reward for a chap like that!" saidRaggles. "They must be hard up. "

"Look here, " said Heathcote, seeing that his only refuge lay in swagger, "I'm not going to have any of your cheek, Raggles. Shut up, or I'lllick you!"

"No fighting here, young gentlemen, please, " said the affablebookseller. 

"Ha! ha!" said Raggles, enjoying himself under the security ofDuffield's alliance; "he's in a wax because we said it was only a_slight_ moustache. He thinks we ought to have said a heavy one!"

"He may think it ought to be, but it ain't, " said Duffield. "I neversaw such a slight one in all my days!"

It is rarely that any one sees reason to bless his own moustache, but onthis particular occasion, when he perceived the welcome controversy towhich it was giving rise, Georgie was very near calling downbenedictions on his youthful hairs. With great presence of mind herecovered his good-humour, and diverted the talk further and furtherinto its capillary course. He backed his moustache against Duffield'sand Raggles' spliced together, he upbraided them with envy, and calledWebster to witness that the pimple on Raggles' lip, which he claimed asthe forerunner of his crop, had been there for the last six months withnever a sign of harvest. 

Altogether, under shelter of his moustache, Georgie crept out of a veryawkward hobble, and finally out of Webster's shop, greatly to the reliefof his palpitating heart. 

But his trials were not quite over. As he was running headlong roundthe corner of High Street, determined that no pretext should detain hima moment longer than necessary in this perilous territory, he foundhimself, to his horror, suddenly confronted with the form of the veryBritish seaman whom, of all others, he hoped to avoid; and, before hecould slacken speed or fetch a compass, he had plunged full into TomWhite's arms. 

Tom White, as usual, I am sorry to say, was half-seas-over. Neversteady in his best days, he had, ever since the loss of the _Martha_made his headquarters at the bar of the "Dolphin. " Not that the loss ofthe _Martha_ was exactly ruin to her late owner. On the contrary, sinceher disappearance, Tom had had more pocket-money than ever he had whenshe was his. 

For sympathetic neighbours, pitying his loss, had contributed triflestowards his solace; the Templeton boys, with many of whom he had been afavourite, had tipped him handsomely in his distress, and it was evenrumoured that half of a collection for the poor at the parish church afew Sundays ago had been awarded to poor destitute Tom White. 

On the whole, Tom felt that if he could lose a _Martha_ twice a year, hemight yet sup off tripe and gin-toddy seven times a week. 

The "Dolphin" became his banker, and took very particular care of hismoney. 

All this the boy, of course, did not know. All he knew was that thewaistcoat into which he had run belonged to the man he had wronged, who, if he only suspected his wronger, could make the coming summer holidaysdecidedly tedious for Georgie and his friend. 

"Belay there!" hiccupped Tom, reeling back from the collision andcatching Heathcote by the arm. "Got yer, young gem'n! and I'll bashyer!"

"I beg your pardon, " said Georgie, terribly scared, and seeing already, in his mind's eye, the narrowest cell of the county jail. 

Tom blinked at him stupidly, holding him at arm's length and cruisinground him. 

"Bust me if it ain't a schollard!" said he. "What cheer, my hearty?Don't forget, the poor mariner that's lost his _Martha_. It's very 'ardon a honest Jack tar. "

How Heathcote's soul went out to the poor British seaman as soon as hediscovered that he did not recognise him! He gave him his all--twoshillings and one penny--and deemed it a mite to offer to so deserving acause. He hoped from his heart Tom would find his boat, or, if not, would get a pension from the Government, or be made an Inspector ofCoast-guards. Nothing was too good for the sweet, delectable creature, and he told him as much. 

Whereat Tom, with the 2 shillings 1 penny in his hand and all the boy'sblandishments in his ears, retired to the "Dolphin" to digest both; andonce more Heathcote, with the perspiration on his brow and his chestpositively sore with the thumping of his heart, sped like a truant shadefrom the fangs of Cerberus. 

After that, neither threats, entreaties, or taunts could induceHeathcote to venture either alone or in company into Templeton. 

Fortunately for him and his leader, the approaching close of the termgave every one at Templeton an excuse for keeping bounds, and stickingsteadily to work. Pledge, among others, was in for a scholarship, whichfive out of six of those who knew him prophesied he would get, if hetook a fortnight's hard work before the examination. 

A fortnight before the examination, to the day, Pledge began to work, and Templeton put down the Bishop's scholarship to him, without furtherparley. Only two men were against him--Cartwright, who, fine fellow ashe was, could not desert the cricket field and gymnasium even in thethroes of an examination, and Freckleton, the hermit, whom half ofTempleton didn't know by sight, and the other half put down as aharmless lunatic, who divided his time between theological exercises andplodding, but not always successful, study. 

Our heroes, being new boys, were exempt from the general schoolexaminations--their guerdon of reward being the general proficiencyprize for new boys, a vague term, in which good conduct, study, andprogress, were all taken into account. Dick sadly admitted that he wasout of it. Still he vaguely hoped he might "pull off his remove, " asthe phrase went--that is, get raised next term to the serene atmosphereof the lower Fourth, along with the faithful Heathcote. 

But nowhere was the studious fit more serious than in the upper Fifth, where Birket, Swinstead, Wrangham and one or two others, cast longingeyes on the vacant desk in the Sixth, and strained every nerve to winit. Cricket flagged, and it was hard during that fortnight to make up aset at tennis. The early "Tub" alone retained its attractions, andindeed was never more crowded than when Templeton was heart and soul instudy. 

One fellow regarded the whole scene half sadly, and that was Ponty. Indolent as he seemed to be, he loved the old school, and hated thethought of leaving it. He had friends there that were like brothers tohim. There were nooks here and there where he had lounged and enjoyedlife, which seemed like so many homes. He knew he had not done anythinggreat for Templeton. He knew he had let the tares grow side by sidewith the wheat, and made no effort to uproot them. He knew that therewere boys there whom he ought to have befriended, and others he ought tohave scathed; and it made him sad now to think of all he might havedone. 

"I don't think they'll erect a statue to me in the Quad, old man, " saidhe to Mansfield at the end of the examination. 

"I know there isn't a fellow that won't be sorry to lose you, " saidMansfield. 

"Ah! no doubt. They've had quiet times under easy-going old Saturn, anddon't fancy the prospect of Jove, with his thunderbolts, ruling in hisstead. Eh?"

"If I could be sure of fellows being as fond of me as they are of you, Ishould--well, I should get something I don't expect, " said Mansfield. 

"Don't be too sure, old man, " said Ponty. "But, I say, will you take ahint from a failure like me?" added the old captain, digging deep intohis pockets, and looking a trifle nervous. 

"Rather. I'd only be too thankful, " said Mansfield. 

"Go easy with them at first. Only have one hand in an iron glove. Keepthe other for some of those juniors who may turn out all right, if theyget a little encouragement and aren't snuffed out all at once. You'llhave plenty of work for the iron hand with one or two hornet's nests weknow of. Give the little chaps a chance. "

This was dear old Ponty's last will and testament. Templeton lookedback upon him after he had gone, as an easy-going, good-natured, let-alone, loveable fellow; but it didn't know all of what it owed him. 

The examinations came at length. The new boys having been the last tocome, were naturally the first to be examined; and once more theportraits in the long hall looked down upon Basil Richardson and GeorgieHeathcote, gnawing at the ends of their pens, and gazing at the ceilingfor an inspiration. 

It was rather a sad spectacle for those portraits. Possibly they barelyrecognised in the reckless, jaunty, fair boy, and his baffled, almostwrathful companion, the Heathcote and Richardson who four months ago hadsat there, fresh, and simple, and rosy, with the world of Templetonbefore them. 

It had not been a good term for either. Thank heaven, as they satthere, they had honesty enough left to know it, and hope enough left tofeel there might still be a chance. They were not to jump by one leapinto the perfect schoolboy; still, with honesty and hope left, who shallsay they had lost all?

As to their immediate care, the examination--their last lingeringexpectation of getting their remove slowly vanished before thoseruthless questions, all of which they knew they ought to know, but manyof which they discovered they knew nothing about. 

Other boys, like Aspinall, who, with all his tears and terrors, hadstruggled through the term more of a hero than either of his doughtyprotectors, found the time only too short to answer all they had toanswer; and our two dejected ones, as they looked round, and saw thefluency of every one else, felt themselves, like sediment, graduallysinking to their level. As long as the stir of term life had lasted, they had imagined themselves as well up, even better than most of theircontemporaries; but now they began to find out it was not so. 

The suspense, if they felt any, was not long. Two days after theexamination, at the time when the Sixth and Fifth were passing throughtheir ordeal, the new boys' list came out. 

Aspinall was first, and got his well-deserved remove, with a complimentfrom the Doctor into the bargain, which made his pale face glow withpleasure. Dick, with a sturdy effort to look cheerful, waved hiscongratulations across the Hall, and then settled down to hear thealmost interminable string of names before his or Georgie's broke themonotony. 

In their own minds, and in the modesty of their own self-abasement, theyhad fixed on the twentieth place, or thereabouts, for Heathcote, andabout the twenty-fifth for Dick. Alas! the singles grew into the teens, and the teens into the twenties, and the twenties into the thirtiesbefore the break came. After eighteen every one knew that the removeswere exhausted, and that the list which followed was, if not a list ofreproach, at any rate one neither of honour nor profit. 

"31--Richardson, " read the Doctor, making a pause on the announcementwhich cut the penitent Dick to the quick; "32--Fox; 33--Sumpter; 34--Whiles; 35--Heathcote; 36--Hooker, junior. That is all. "

Poor Heathcote! He had buoyed himself up to the last. He had remindedhimself that he was not a prig or a saint, that he didn't go in forconduct that "paid, " that he called a spade a spade, and that he didn'tprofess to be what he wasn't; and yet all this failed to place himhigher than last but one of thirty-six boys, among whom, only fourmonths ago, he stood fifteenth! Even Dick had beaten him now, althoughDick himself had fallen ten places down the list. 

The two friends had a dreary walk round the deserted Fields thatafternoon. 

"I can't make it out, " said Heathcote. "I knew I hadn't done well, butI expected to be higher than that. I wonder if Winter's got a spiteagainst me. "

"More likely got one against me. Did you hear the way he read out myname?"

"Yes; he may have been surprised you came out so high. "

"It's nothing to joke about, " said Dick. "We've both made a mess ofit. "

"I really thought I'd done my lessons pretty steadily, " said Heathcote, loth to part with the idea that there must be a mistake somewhere. 

"You mean Pledge did them for you. I tell you what, old man--I've hadenough of this sort of mess. I don't like it. "

"No more do I, " said Heathcote, very truly. 

"I mean to get my remove at Christmas, if I get brain-fever over it. "

"Rather; so do I, " said Heathcote. 

"I shall have a go in at the irregular verbs during the holidays. "

"Eh--will you?" asked Georgie, beginning to stagger a little at the newprogramme. "All serene; so will I. "

"We might begin to-night, perhaps. "

"Awfully sorry--I've an engagement to-night, " said Heathcote. 

"Where?"

This was the first occasion on which Dick had asked this very awkwardquestion. It was the wind-up supper of the "Select Sociables" for thepresent term, and to Heathcote one of the chief attractions of theprospect had been that Dick, being a member, would be there too. Hewas, therefore, startled somewhat at the inquiry. 

"Oh, you know. We don't talk about it, " said he. 

"So it seems, " said Dick; "but it happens I don't know. "

"Don't you? Then the fellows must have told me a cram. "

"What fellows?"

"Why, do you mean to say you don't know, Dick?"

"How should I?"

"Haven't they asked you, too? Aren't you a-- I mean, don't you know?"

At this particular moment, Cresswell came across the Quadrangle with abundle of books in his hands, which he told Dick to take to his study. 

And before Dick had time to perform his task and return to the Quad, Braider had pounced on Heathcote, and borne him away, in hot haste, tothe orgy of the "Select Sociables, " where he spent a very unprofitableevening in trying to square his conscience with all he saw and heard, and in trying to ascertain from every member of the Club he could gethold of, why Dick wasn't there, too. He was not released without arenewal of his promise of secrecy, and spent a very uncomfortable half-hour in the dormitory that evening, trying, as best he could, to parrythe questions of his friend, into whose head it had never entered thatthe "Select Sociables, " after ejecting him, should dream of such a thingas electing Heathcote. They might have quarrelled over the mystery, hadnot the approaching holidays, and an opportune note from Coote, announcing that he had just scraped through the pass examination for"second chances, " and would be at Templeton after the recess, driven allother thoughts, for the time being, out of their heads. And the fewremaining days of the term were devoted, not to irregular verbs, but tothe devising of glorious schemes of welcome to old Coote, andanticipations of the joys of their reformed triple alliance. 

The great result day found Templeton, as it always did, in the chaos ofpacking up. At the summons of the great bell, to come and hear thelists read in the Hall, fellows dropped collars and coats, rackets androds, boots and bookstand rushed for a front seat. 

Every one turned up to the summer list--even the housekeepers and theschool porter. The masters were there in caps and gowns, and the Sixth, in solemn array, occupied the benches on the dais. The rest of the Hallwas left to the first comers; and, as all Templeton, on this occasion, arrived first in a body, the scene was usually animated. 

Dr Winter read the list himself, and every name rang through the Hall, being followed with cheers which made all the more striking the silencewith which the next name was listened for. 

"The Bishop's Scholarship has been won by Freckleton, " said the Doctor. 

Amazement, as well as approval, mingled with the applause which followedthis most unexpected announcement. 

"Which _is_ Freckleton?" asked Dick of Swinstead, who sat in front. 

"That dark fellow, talking to Mansfield. "

"Silence! Pledge was second, and within a few marks. Cartwright wasthird. "

"How pleased Winter must have been to find those marks the right way!"whispered Pledge, with the red spots on his cheeks, to Bull. "It's afunny thing that Freckleton should be a nephew of Winter's and yet justget the scholarship, isn't it? So very unusual, eh?"

"The Fifth-form remove has been gained by Swinstead, " said the Doctor(loud cheers). "Wrangham was second, but not very close, and Birket wasa few marks below Wrangham. "

These announcements were the most interesting on the Doctor's list, andTempleton listened impatiently to the rest. It waited, however, in itsplace, in order to give a final cheer for Ponty at the close. 

Which it did. And the dear old fellow, though he seemed very sleepy, and longed for his arm-chair, couldn't help hearing it and looking roundat the old school, nodding his kindly head. When, however, somebodycalled out "Speech, " he stretched himself comfortably and shrugged hisshoulders; and they knew what that meant, and gave it up. 

Twenty-four hours later, Templeton was scattered to the four winds, andour heroes' first term had become a chapter of ancient history. 

CHAPTER SIXTEEN. 

IN WHICH A NOTABLE TRIPLE ALLIANCE IS RENEWED. 

The six short weeks of holiday darted away only too quickly. 

Dick, in the whirl of family life, a hero to his sisters, and a cautionto his young brothers, forgot all the troubles of the term, and all itsdisappointments, all about the "Select Sociables, " and all about TomWhite's boat, in one glorious burst of holiday freedom. 

He even forgot about his irregular verbs; and the good resolutions withwhich he had returned, he left packed up in his trunk until the timecame to take them back to Templeton. 

Still, it wasn't a bad time, on the whole, for Dick. Like some smallboat that gets out of the rushing tide for a little into some quietcreek, he had time to overhaul himself and pull himself together, readyfor another voyage. He was able, in the home harbour, to take somelittle fresh ballast on board and to rearrange what he at present had. He was able to stow away some of his useless tackle and bale out some ofthe water he had shipped in the last few rapids. Altogether, thoughDick was not exactly a boy given to self-examination, or self-dedication, and although he would have scouted the notion that he wasgoing in for being a reformed character, his little cruise in calm waterdid him good, and steadied him for his next venture on the tide, whenthe time should come. 

It was not so with George Heathcote. He was a craft of flimsier buildthan his leader, and the tide had gone harder with him. There was aleak somewhere, and the tackle was a-twist, and the ballast rolled toone side. And, for him, the home harbour was no place for repairs. 

Heathcote had neither father nor mother, and though his old relative didher best for him, the boy was more or less at a loose end at home, withno better guide than his own whims. The wonder was, considering hissurroundings, that Heathcote was not utterly spoiled, that he was stillhonest and amiable, and amenable to good influence when he came acrossit. 

He did not, however, come across much these holidays. For four weeks hekicked his heels about in any way that suited him, and began to long forTempleton again, and the face of a friend. 

Then one day a letter came to him from Pledge. 

"Dear Youngster, --You said something about wanting to see London theseholidays. What do you say to coming here on a visit? My father andmother would be glad to see you, and we can go back to Templetontogether. If you come to-morrow, you'll be in time for the last day ofthe Australian match at the Oval--Yours truly, --

"P. Pledge. "

Heathcote jumped at the invitation. An invitation from anybody wouldhave been welcome just then, but to be asked by his own senior, in thisunexpected way, was both tempting and flattering. 

So he took the letter to his grandmother, and indulged in a glowingaccount of Pledge's virtues and merits. The good lady, of course, gaveher consent, and the very next day Georgie was in London. 

The week slipped by in a round of pleasures for Heathcote. Pledge, thespoiled child of wealthy parents, was pretty much his own master, andspared no pains to make his young protege at home, and gratify his everyinclination. To Georgie, the life in which he found himself wasbewildering in its novelty. 

Pledge showed him London. They saw public buildings, and they saw thegreat streets; they went to theatrical entertainments, and concerts, andparties. They met friends, good and bad, and heard talk, good and bad. No one thought of making any distinction; no one seemed to admit thatthere was much distinction. It was all life. If some went in for thegood, well, let them; if others went in for the bad, what right had anyone to interfere? and if any went in for a little of both, well, wasn'tthe balance about straight, and who was any the worse for it?

Heathcote felt that he was in Liberty Hall--that he might do exactly ashe liked without the awkwardness of feeling that any one was surprised, or that any one was shocked. Pledge did not distinctly tempt him to doanything; and yet, during that one short week, the boy's moral sense wasmore deeply undermined than during the whole of the term that hadpassed. The clear line between good and evil vanished. And, seeing thetwo side by side, and hearing his companion's constant sneers at"sanctity, " it became natural to him to suspect the good and, of thetwo, prefer the evil. 

So Georgie Heathcote went back to Templeton the worse for his holidays, and snared faster than ever in the "Spider's" web. 

But the sight of Dick on the Templeton platform drove all his unhealthyphilosophy for a time from his mind, and when, an hour later, the trainfrom G--- came in and discharged Coote and Coote's hat-box andtravelling-bag, there was joy in the hearts of those three old Mountjoyboys, which could not find vent in mere smiles or words of greeting. 

Coote was in a horrible flutter, despite the countenance of his twoprotectors. He could not trust himself out of their sight. As theywalked up from the station and crossed the Quadrangle, he suspected asnare everywhere, and sniffed an enemy at every corner. 

"Come on, old fellow, " said Dick, in all the glory of an old hand, "stick your hat on the back of your head, and make a face at everybodyyou meet, and nobody will humbug you. "

Coote had his doubts of this advice; but, it occurred to him, if itshould be good, he had better make the experiment while his friends werethere to protect him. 

So he tilted his hat cautiously back, and timidly protruded his tongueat Culver, whom they met staggering under the weight of a carpet bag, near the housekeeper's door. 

Culver regarded the demonstration with a certain amount of bewildereddisfavour, and, to Coote's terror, looked for a moment like putting downhis carpet bag. But the presence of Dick and Heathcote deterred him forthe present, and he contented himself with a promise that tilted the newboy's hat back into its proper elevation with wonderful celerity. 

"Never mind him, " said Heathcote, "he always doubles up after five orsix rounds. "

"Do you mean he will fight me?" asked Coote. 

"Bless you, yes!"

"To-day, do you think?"

"Don't know. Depends on what he's got in his bag. If it's a cargo, hewon't be out for a couple of nights. "

All this was very alarming to Coote, who devoutly hoped Culver's "cargo"might be big enough to keep him many nights in unloading it. 

Dick and Heathcote led their junior partner rejoicing to thehousekeeper, and assisted in counting out his shirts and socks. Theythen took him to show him off in the lobbies, deserting him once ortwice, to his consternation, in order to greet some crony or take partin a mild shindy in the studies. 

The presence of their "new kid" inspired them with a wonderful fund ofhumour and audacity. His astonishment flattered them and his panicsdelighted them. With a lively recollection of their own experienceslast term, they took care he should be wandering in the Quad when the"dredger" came its rounds; and, for fear he should miss the warmconsolations of a lower third "Scrunch, " they organised one for hisspecial benefit, and had the happiness of seeing him rising in themiddle, scared and puffing, with cheeks the colour of a peony. All thewhile they tried to figure as his protectors, and demanded credit forgetting him through his ordeals in a way he would by no means have got, if left, as they had been, to his own resources. 

Nor were they wholly unoriginal in their endeavours to make him feel athome in his new surroundings. 

"By George! it's ten minutes to dinner-time, " said Dick, looking at theclock. "There'll be a frightful row if you are late first day, andyou've barely time to dress. "

"Dress! I am dressed, " said Coote, in alarm. 

"You muff, you're not in your flannels. Think of a new fellow turningup to Hall first day not in his flannels, eh, Georgie?"

"My eye!" said Georgie; "what a row there'd be!"

"Cut as hard as ever you can, and put them on. Better not show up tilljust as the clock strikes, in case fellows humbug you. We'll be nearthe door and show you where to sit. "

"Whatever should I have done, " thought the grateful Coote to himself, ashe rushed off to don his brand-new flannels, "if it hadn't been forthose two bricks?"

The "two bricks" waited somewhat anxiously near the door of the Hall fortheir "new kid, " and as the clock began to strike they had the joy ofseeing him dart resplendent across the Quad, keeping in the shade asmuch as possible, and looking nervously up at the clock. 

"Lamm it on!" called Heathcote, as the bell ceased and the breathlessathlete ran into their arms. 

"Am I all right?" asked the victim. 

"So-so, " said they, surveying him critically, "but you'd better carryyour coat over your arm. Look out, Winter will be coming in. You'vegot to sit up there at the top table, in that empty chair. Look alive, or he'll catch you. "

And as the blushing innocent walked up the room, the observed of allobservers, and made straight for the Head Master's table, our heroesbecame absorbed in admiration of the plates in front of them, andpositively trembled with the emotion their beauty evoked. 

Every one was most polite to the abashed new boy on his journey up theroom. They ceased talking as they beheld him, and respectfully maderoom for him. Some even were good enough to assist his progress by wordand gesture. 

"Where are you going, my pretty maid?" asked Birket of the rosy youth, as he neared his destination. 

The poetical suggestion was too much for the Fifth, who caught up thepastoral ditty, and accompanied the measured tread of the wanderer withan undertone chorus of--

 "'Where are you going, my pretty maid?' 'I'm going to dinner, sir, ' she said. 'May I go with you, my pretty maid?' 'Not if I know it, sir, ' she said. "

Coote got used to the pretty melody before the term was over, but justnow his sense of music was deadened by the apparition of Dr Winter, whoentered by a door at the upper end of the Hall, and walked straight forthe chair which the modest novice had looked upon as the goal of histedious journey. 

"Cut back!" said Birket, coming to the rescue just in time, and turningthe unhappy boy to the rightabout. "They've been making a fool of you. "

Then might have been seen a spotless white figure flying like the winddown the Hall of Templeton, making the place rosy with his blushes, andmerry with his hot haste. 

Dick and Heathcote caught their brother as he made for the door, andsqueezed him in between them at their table, where roast beef and goodcheer restored some of his drooping spirits, while the applause of hispatrons and the success of the whole adventure went far to reduce thetension which otherwise might have threatened the stability of the"Firm. "

But after that, Coote felt his confidence in the "two bricks, " on whomhe had hitherto relied so implicitly, a trifle shaken, and was not quitesure whether, after all, a new boy might not get through his first fewdays as comfortably without the protection of two bosom friends as withit. 

There being very few new boys this term compared with last, he foundhimself by no means neglected in his walks abroad, and it required allhis wariness to elude the gins and pitfalls prepared for him. Indeed, his very wariness got him into trouble. 

After chapel on his second morning Swinstead came to him and said--

"Youngster, you are to go to the Doctor at half-past nine. "

"Oh, ah!" said Coote to himself, knowingly. "I know what that means. "

"Do you hear?" asked Swinstead. 

"I suppose you think I'm green, " said the new boy. 

Swinstead laughed. 

"What on earth should make me think that?" said he. 

Coote chuckled merrily to himself as he saw the senior depart. 

"I'm getting over the worst of it, " said he to himself. "They'll soongive up trying it on me. Ha, ha!"

And he went off to find his chums, who took him for a stroll in theFields. 

"Well, young 'un, " said Dick, patronisingly, "getting used to it? Wornyour flannels lately?"

"You're a beastly cad, Dick, " said Coote; "but you don't catch me likethat again. "

"No, you're getting too knowing, " said Georgie. 

Coote laughed. 

"I'm not quite as green as some fellows think, " said he. "A fellow cameto me this morning and told me to go to the Doctor at 9:30. A nice foolhe thought he'd make of me. Ha, ha!"

"What fellow was he?" said Dick, looking rather serious. 

"I don't know his name, " said Coote. "The fellow who marked the namesin chapel, I believe. "

"What, Swinstead? Did he tell you to go?"

"Rather; and I told him I wasn't such a fool as I looked--I mean as hethought. "

"By Jove!--you young ass! You've got yourself into a mess, if youlike. "

"How do you mean?" inquired the new boy, beginning to be alarmed at theconcerned looks of his two friends. 

"Why, he's Chapel usher, " said Dick. "Do you mean to say you didn't goto the Doctor?"

"Rather not. I--"

"What's the time?" said Dick. 

"A quarter to ten. "

Without more ado they took the unhappy Coote between them and rushed himfrantically back to the school, where they shot him in at the Doctor'sdoor just as that gentleman was about to dismiss his new boys' class. 

"How is this, Coote?" demanded the Head Master, sternly, as thebreathless boy entered. "Were you not told to be here at half-pastnine?"

"Yes, sir; I--I made a mistake. I'm very sorry, sir. "

The genuine terror in his face procured his reprieve this time. DrWinter may have been used to "mistakes" of this kind. At any rate, hecontented himself with cautioning the new boy against unpunctualitygenerally, and, by way of punishment, gave him an examination all tohimself, which resulted, much to his comfort, in his being placed in theupper third, of which Dick and Heathcote were already shining lights. 

While he was thus engaged, Dick and Heathcote were holding a secret, andby no means cheerful, consultation over a recent number of the_Templeton Observer_. 

"I made sure it was all blown over, " said the latter, dejectedly. 

"What a cad the fellow must be!" said the former. 

"I think newspapers are a regular nuisance!" said Georgie. 

"All I know is, he robbed us of all we had, and if we'd informed he'dhave been in Botany Bay or somewhere this minute!" said Dick, workinghimself up into a passion. 

The extract from the _Templeton Observer_ which gave rise to this duetof wrath was as follows, dated some ten days before the close of theholidays:--

 *The recent mysterious disappearance of a Templeton boat*. --Up to the present time nothing has been heard of the _Martha_, which, as our readers will remember, disappeared from the Templeton beach, on the 4th June last. The supposed clue with which the police professed to be provided has, so far, failed to bring the perpetrators of the outrage to justice; although the hope is by no means abandoned of tracing the missing lad. The matter is somewhat seriously complicated by the discovery that Thomas White, the reputed owner of the boat, was at no time its actual proprietor. The _Martha_ was the joint property of White and three other men, one of them skipper of the brig _Julia_, and the other two well-known fishermen, of this town. It appears that an arrangement was made, whereby White should be the nominal owner of the boat, he undertaking to hand over monthly three quarters of the profits to his partners. In May last, during the absence of his other partners, White pawned the _Martha_ representing her to be his sole property, and appropriated the whole proceeds of the transaction. For this act of fraud (which the recent loss of the boat and the return of its joint owners has brought to light) we understand a writ has been issued against White, and that he will be arrested immediately on his return to Templeton from his present cruise with the Fishing Fleet in the high seas. 

"Tom White's a regular bad one, " said Dick. 

"Yes. It was a jolly mean trick to pawn what didn't belong to him. "

"The thing is, who did it belong to when we--when it got adrift?"

"The pawnbroker, I suppose, " said Heathcote. "Most likely Nash. "

"No wonder Tom White didn't seem much cut up about losing her. "

"No; he made a good thing by it. It's a comfort to think he'll getnabbed at last. "

"Of course, we've nothing to do with his row, " said Dick. 

"Of course not. We had nothing to do with pawning the boat. "

And yet, they concluded, if the _Martha_ had never gone adrift, no onewould have known of Tom White's fraud, and he might have been able tomake money enough with her to clear himself. 

It seemed unfair to rake up an old sore like this at the very beginningof the term, especially when, as they persuaded themselves, over andover again, the whole affair had very little to do with them. 

"I vote we don't look at this wretched paper any more, " said Heathcote, crumpling up the offending _Observer_ into a ball, and giving it a puntacross the path. 

"Why not? We may as well see what becomes of Tom White, " said Dick. "Young Aspinall can fetch us up a copy once a week. "

And so one of the events of the new term was that the _TempletonObserver_ had a new subscriber, and increased its circulation by two newand very diligent readers. 

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN. 

THE NEW CAPTAIN DRAWS A STRAIGHT LINE. 

Mansfield returned to Templeton like a man who knows that his work iscut out for him, and who means to do it, _coute qui coute_, as theFrench say. 

Any one else might have been afraid of the task before him, and doubtfulof success. Mansfield was neither; at any rate, as far as any one elsecould see. He set himself up neither for a Hercules nor a Galahad. Itnever occurred to him what he was. But it did occur to him thatTempleton wanted reform, and that the Captain of Templeton ought toreform it. And with that one clear purpose before him, Mansfield wasthe sort of fellow to go straight through thick and thin to reach it, orperish in the attempt. 

They say that when a certain Russian Emperor wanted a railway madebetween the two chief cities of his dominion, and was asked what routeit should take, so as to benefit the largest number of intervening townsand villages, he called for a map and ruler, and drawing a straight linebetween the two places, said, "Let it go that way. "

That was pretty much the style of Mansfield. He didn't understandturning to right or left to give anybody a lift on the way. All he knewwas that Templeton was not up to the mark, and that Templeton must bebrought up to the mark. Between those points he ruled his straightline, and that way he meant to go. 

If the line cut a snug little set of chums in half, if it turned one ortwo settled school customs out of house and home, if it sent one or twowaverers hopelessly over to the wrong side--well, so be it. It was apity, especially if the innocent had to suffer with the guilty. But thegood of Templeton was at stake, and woe to the traitor who thoughtanything more important than that!

Dear old Ponty, whom Templeton had never loved so much as when it missedhim, had curled his line about in snug, comfortable ins-and-outs, so asnot to disturb anybody. Mansfield didn't think himself better thanPonty, whom he loved as a brother. But Mansfield couldn't draw curlingin-and-out lines. He only knew one line, and that was a straight one;and so, for better or worse, Mansfield called for his map and his ruler, and dashed into his task. 

"Give the little chaps a chance, " Ponty had said, in his last will andtestament, and the new Captain of Templeton was willing to make onelittle curve, in order to carry out his friend's wish. 

On the fourth evening of the term, as the Den was assembled in fullsession, for the purpose of swearing in Coote and denouncing the powersthat be, that honourable fraternity was startled out of its neversuperabundant wits by an apparition far more terrible than the TempletonGhost. 

Dick was in the chair at the time, and Heathcote was in the act ofmoving a resolution, "That this Den considers all the monitors ought tobe hanged, and hopes they will be, " when the Captain of Templetonsuddenly entered the room. 

Then fell there a silence on the Den, like to the silence of a kennel ofdogs when the whip of the master cracks! The word "hanged" died half-uttered on the lips of Heathcote, and Dick slipped aghast from hiseminence. The tongue of Coote clave to the roof of his mouth, and evenGosse's heart turned to stone in the midst of a "swop. " Never didcondemned criminals stand more still, or wax-works more dumb. 

Mansfield closed the door behind him, and marched straight to the top ofthe room, where stood Dick's vacant chair. Was he going to drive themout single-handed? Was he going to arrest their leader? Or was hegoing to make a speech?

As soon as they perceived he was going to do neither the first nor thesecond, and knew he was going to do the last, they groaned. They couldhave endured a stampede round the Quad; they could have broughtthemselves to see their leader immolated in a good cause; but to have tostand still and hear Jupiter speak--what had they done to deserve that?

"Look here, you youngsters, " began Mansfield, needing not even a motionof his hand to command silence, "I've not come as an enemy, but afriend. "

"What will it be like, " mused Coote, "when he comes as an enemy?"

"And I've only a very few words to say to you. "

Was it a sigh of relief or disappointment that escaped the Den?Mansfield didn't know; he wasn't well up in sighs. 

"There's a great deal goes on in the Den that isn't right. Some of youyoungsters think the only use of school rules is to break them, and thatit's a fine thing to disobey the monitors. You're wrong, and, unlessyou give up that sort of thing, you'll find it out. The school rulesare made to be kept, and the monitors are appointed to see they _are_kept; and any boy that says otherwise is an enemy to Templeton, and hewill be treated accordingly. Some of you don't approve of all that goeson here, and yet you don't like to stand up against it. That's notright. You can't be neutral. If you mean to be steady, you are boundto stand out and have nothing to do with the bad lot. I want you all tounderstand this once for all, and not say you've had no warning. I warnyou now. Rules are made to be kept, and you must keep them. Pontifex--"

The Captain had to stop; for the Den, which had stood in breathlesssilence thus far, sprang, at the mention of the name, into a cheer whichspoke quite as much for the tension of their own feelings at this momentas for their affection for the old Captain. 

Mansfield let them have it out; he liked them none the worse for theirlove to his friend, and what he had to say would by no means spoil bykeeping till the cheers were over. 

They were over at last. The sight of the Captain there, tall, upright, determined, with his dark eyes bent on them, cut them short and broughtthe Den back to silence as deep as that which had just been broken. 

"Pontifex was fond of you youngsters. He said to me a day or two beforehe went, 'Give the little chaps a chance. '"

They could not help it; Captain or no Captain, they must cheer again. And again Mansfield waited patiently and ungrudgingly till it was over. 

"This is why I've come here to-night. You have your chance. Leteverybody choose for himself, and don't let any one say he didn't knowwhat to expect. There's to be a Captain's levee on Thursday. I don'twant any one to come to it who is not prepared to stand by Templetonrules this term. Those who are prepared will do well to show up. "

So ended Jupiter's speech to the Den. He stalked down the room and outof the door amid a solemn silence, which was not broken until his firmfootsteps died away down the passage. 

Then the Den looked at one another as much as to say--

"What do you think of that?"

"Pretty warm!" said Dick, relieving the general embarrassment byspeaking first. 

"Think he means it?" said one. 

"Looks like it!" said Dick, gloomily. 

There was a pause. The Den knew, somehow, it was no joke. 

It was a case of life or death, war or peace, liberty or servitude, andthey hesitated on the brink. 

"I don't mean to knuckle under to him!" said Heathcote, speaking withthe mantle of Pledge upon him. "It's all a dodge to curry favour withWinter. "

The Den was thankful for the suggestion, and revived wonderfully underits influence. 

"Catch me doing more for him than for old Ponty!" cried Gosse, who hadnever done anything for Ponty. 

The reference was a popular one, and the Den took it up also. It fellto extolling Ponty to the very heavens, and abasing Mansfield to theopposite extremity, while it held up its hands in horror at the man whocould seek to make the good order of Templeton the price of his favourwith the Head Master. 

But, when the little outburst had subsided, the awkward question stillremained--What was to be done?

"Of course nobody will be cad enough to go to the levee after what hesaid, " said Heathcote, who, warmed by the admiring glances of Coote andthe success of his last observation, felt called upon to speak for theassembly in general. 

"Rather not! You won't go, will you, Dick?" said Pauncefote. 

"Don't know, " said that hero, shortly. 

The Den was startled. What did Dick mean by "Don't know"? Was he goingto knuckle in after all and join the "saints?"

The uncertainty had a very depressing effect on Heathcote's enthusiasm, which had calculated all along on the countenance of his leader. Coote, too, cautiously separated himself from Gosse, who was shouting seditionat the top of his voice, and drew off to more neutral territory. Smithand Pauncefote kept up their cheers for Ponty, but gradually dropped thegroans for Mansfield, and altogether the howls of the Den toned down tothe roar of a sucking dove as it got whispered abroad that DickRichardson "didn't know. "

The two days that followed were days of suspense to the Den. 

"Is Dick going?" was the question every one asked. 

"He doesn't know, " was the invariable answer. 

Under these circumstances, it will be understood, but little enthusiasmcould be called up over the rival toilets of the fraternity. Culver'sdress-coat had been returned to its lawful owner long since, and forthat reason, if for no other, he determined not to attend. Heathcote'schoker and white gloves were the worse for wear, so he was not anxious;and Coote, whose one strong point was a watered ribbon watch-chain, wasrumoured to be weak in collars, and, on the whole, not a "hot man" atall, or likely to show up. 

As to Dick, opinions were divided as to what he could do if he went. Itwas known his "dicky" had fallen off, but, on the other hand, he hadbrought back a pair of patent leather pumps, which might make him feelit his duty to attend. 

"Look here, old man, " asked Heathcote, for about the hundredth time, theevening before the levee, "are you going, or are you not?"

"Don't know, " replied Dick. "Are you?"

What a question for a leader to ask his lieutenant! Dick knew it wasridiculous, but he guessed shrewdly it might choke off further inquiry. And it did. 

Heathcote, however, had other counsellors besides Dick, who were neitherdoubtful nor sparing in their advice on the great question. A hastymeeting of the "Select Sociables" was summoned, by means of Braider, that very evening, to take into consideration the action of the Club atthe forthcoming levee, at which it was agreed unanimously that, afterthe Captain's threat, no member of that honourable body should, on anyaccount, show up. 

Heathcote held up his hand for the resolution with the others, and feltsure, in his own mind, Dick would have done the same. 

"Mind, nobody shows up, on any pretext, " said Spokes, as the meetingseparated. "We're on our honour, and, of course, no one mentions theClub out-of-doors. "

Of course, nobody would think of such a thing. 

Heathcote felt a good deal concerned as the evening went on, and stillno sign came from Dick. It wasn't exactly kind to keep a fellow insuspense like this. The only thing was to take the bull by the horns, and announce what _he_ was going to do. Then, possibly, Dick might showhis hand. 

"I've decided not to show up at the levee, " said Georgie, on the morningof the eventful day. 

"Have you?" said Dick, with a most provoking indifference. 

"Yes, " said the cunning Georgie. "I tell you what, Dick; while it'sgoing on, you and I can get the top court and play off our heat for thehandicap. What do you say?"

"Don't know. "

Whereupon, Heathcote wished that two words in the English language couldbe suspended, and went off to see if any comfort was going in the Den. But no. 

"What's Dick going to do?" asked almost everybody. 

"He doesn't know, " groaned Heathcote. 

Whereupon, the Den, as well as Georgie, wished ill to those two unluckywords. 

The morning passed, and still no ray of light illumined the doubters. Dick got twenty lines from Pledge for jumping over the geranium bed inthe Quad, and knocking off a flower in the act; and every one guessedthis would decide him against the levee. 

But at dinner-time a rumour spread, on the authority of Coote, that hehad put on a clean collar since morning school, and public opinionimmediately veered round to the opposite direction. No sooner, however, was dinner done than he was seen to fetch his tennis racket from hisstudy; and once more it was surmised that he was going, after all, toplay off his heat with Georgie instead of attending the ceremony. Andthat supposition was in turn dashed to the ground, when it wasdiscovered that he had got the bat in order to give it to a messengerfrom Splicers, the racket maker, to be tightened up in the top cord. 

Afternoon school dragged tediously on, and the Den grew desperate. Fellows went off to dress. But what was the use of Heathcote putting onhis choker, or Smith and Pauncefote parting their hairs, when theydidn't know whether they were going to the levee or not?

Heathcote made one final effort to "draw" the Sphinx. 

"Come on, " said he, "we'll bag the court if we are sharp, and get anhour's quiet play. "

"I've got no racket, " said Dick. 

"I say, Dick, _are_ you going to the levee--do tell us?"

"I don't know. What do you want to know for?"

"I--I vote we don't go, " said Georgie, coaxingly. "I'm not going. "

"I know that. "

"Are you?" and there was a tone of desperate pathos in the boy's voice. 

"Haven't I told you, a hundred and fifty times, I _don't know_?" repliedDick, scarcely less desperate. 

Heathcote gave it up, and joined the Den, who were waiting about, inanxious groups, near the door of the Hall, with their ornaments in theirhands, ready to put on at a moment's notice if necessary. 

Presently Dick strolled up and joined them. 

Hurrah! he had not got his patent leather boots on, after all! A weightfell from the minds of half the beholders as they cast their eyes downat his dusty double soles. And yet, if he wasn't going in, what was hehanging about there for?

Dick would have been very sorry if any of the Den had guessed what waspassing in his mind. He didn't know what to do. If there had been noone but himself, it wouldn't have mattered. But there was that youngass Heathcote, and Coote too, who were certain to do as he did; and thefag of making up his mind for three people was not fair to a fellow. 

And yet the Ghost's letter somehow stuck in his mind, and the ballast hehad taken on board during the holidays made it harder to play pitch andtoss with himself than it had been. He didn't like the way Mansfieldhad almost dared them to stay away. Because, if it came to that, hewould just as soon let fellows see he wasn't going to be bullied. Onthe other hand, the Captain had as good as said it wanted some pluck tostand out against the rowdies, and that was an argument in favour ofshowing up at levee. The worst of it was, when once you showed up, youwere committed to the steady lot, and couldn't well back out. If youngHeathcote--no, he was bound to look after Heathcote. 

So, to the amazement and consternation of the Den, after loafing aboutat the door for ten minutes, Dick strolled into the Hall, and made hisway up to the platform. 

One or two, including Coote, followed him immediately. Others remainedlong enough to put on their cuffs and chokers, and then followed suit. One or two looked at the door, and went back again, and a few talkedabout treason and Rule 5. 

Heathcote alone was aghast and dumbfounded. For he had never seriouslycalculated on his leader's decision; and, being himself under vow not topresent himself, his dilemma was terrible. 

Perjury or treason? That was the problem he had to decide at half aminute's notice, and it was no joke. 

As he watched Dick slowly advance up the room, dogged by the faithfulCoote and supported by a bodyguard of loyal followers, his couragefailed, and he could hardly restrain himself from rushing after him. 

And yet, the memory of his promise to the "Select Sociables, " and thevision of Braider watching him from a distance, held him where he was. 

How he wished he could have a fit, or break his arm, or have his nosebleed; anything to get him out of this hobble!

But no. He saw Dick ascend the dais and shake hands with the Captain, who looked almost amiable as he spoke a few words to him. He sawPauncefote and Smith and the other, loyal ones come in for the samegreeting. He saw Coote and his watered ribbon being presented byCartwright, and he caught sight of Pledge looking up and down the room, possibly in search of his Georgie. 

All this he saw, and yet could not stir. Only when he saw Dick descendthe platform and slowly return towards the door, did the spell yield andpermit him to escape to the Quad. 

There half an hour later he was found by Pledge. 

"Hullo, youngster; you didn't turn up at the pantomime, then?"

"No, " said Heathcote, "I didn't want to. "

"What! not want to be shaken hands with and blessed by the holyMansfield? You naughty boy, to neglect such a short cut to peace andplenty!"

"I don't want to toady to anybody, " said Heathcote, bitterly. 

"Of course you don't. But I'm afraid your courage will cost yousomething in impositions and detentions, and that sort of thing. "

"What do I care? I'd sooner have any amount of them than be a humbugand truckle to anybody. "

"Every one, " said Pledge, with an approving smile, "made sure when yourfriend Richardson came to do homage, that you would come too. I wasquite pleased to find I knew better and was right. "

"I don't know what made Dick go, " said Heathcote. 

"No? Can't you guess? Isn't Dick a good boy, and doesn't he always dowhat good boys do?"

Heathcote laughed. 

"I don't think he's very much in that line. "

"Well, he imitates it very well, " said Pledge, watching his mancarefully, "and I've no doubt he will find it worth his while. "

"What do you mean?" inquired Heathcote, looking up. 

"I mean that Mansfield is picking his men for the 3rd Football Fifteen, and I'm afraid you won't be in it, my boy. "

Heathcote said nothing, but walked on to the school door where he andhis patron parted company; the latter proceeding to his study with aparticularly amiable smile on his countenance; the former repairing tothe adjourned meeting of the "Select Sociables, " there to hear highpraises of his loyalty and steadfastness, and to partake of a veryselect contraband supper, which, with the questionable festivities thatfollowed, was good for neither the body nor the soul of our unheroicyoung hero. 

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN. 

DICK CONSPIRES TO DEFEAT THE ENDS OF JUSTICE. 

Dick, on quitting the Captain's levee, retired in anything but exaltedspirits to Cresswell's study. 

He didn't care to face the Den that evening. Not that he was afraid ofRule 5, or cared a snap what anybody there had to say about his conduct. But he wasn't sure himself whether he had made a mistake or not. Hehated being in a corner. He had no natural antipathy to doing what wasright, but he didn't like being pinned down to it. He didn't go to thelevee because he was desperately in love with law and order, and it wasa shame for any one to suppose he had. He went because he knewHeathcote was waiting to see what he did. And now, after all, Heathcotehad deserted his colours and not gone. 

It was enough to make any one testy, and Aspinall, had he known it, would have been less surprised than he was to have his head almostsnapped off as the two fellow-fags sat at work in their senior's studythat evening. 

"Can't you do your work without groaning like that?" said Dick, when thesmall boy, for about the fiftieth time, stumbled over his hexameters. 

"I beg your pardon, " said Aspinall, "I didn't mean to disturb you. "

"Who said you did?" retorted poor Dick, longing for a quarrel with someone. "What's the use of flaring up like that?"

"I didn't mean--I'm sorry if I--"

"There you go. Why can't you swear straight out instead of mumbling? Ican't hear what you say. "

"I beg your pardon, Dick. "

"Shut up, and get on with your work, and don't make such a noise. "

After that the wretched Aspinall hardly dared dip his pen in the ink, orturn over a page, for fear of disturbing his badger companion. It was arelief when presently Cresswell entered and gave him a chance of escape. 

"Well, youngster, " said the senior, when he and Dick were left alone, "I'm glad you had the sense to turn up at the levee. "

"I'm sorry I did, " said Dick, shortly. 

Cresswell knew his man too well to be taken aback by the contradiction. 

"Yes? Is the Den going to lick you for it?"

"I'd like to see them try, " said Dick, half viciously. 

"So would I, " said the senior, laughing. 

"Mansfield will be trying to make out I've promised to back him up, "said Dick. 

Cresswell laughed. 

"By Jove! he _will_ be cut up when he finds you aren't. He'll resign. "

Dick coloured up, and looked a little foolish. "I didn't mean that, " hesaid. 

"No very dreadful thing if you did back him up, eh?" said the monitor, casually. "It might disgust some of your friends in the Den, but youaren't obliged to toady to them. "

"Rather not, " said Dick. 

"Besides, a fellow may sometimes do what's right and not be an uttercad. Perhaps you don't think so, though. You'd cut a nobler figure, wouldn't you, dragging down your chums from one row to another, than byanything so paltry as doing right because it is right? I quiteunderstand that feeling. "

"Why do you talk to me like that?" said Dick, feeling a sting in everyword of the senior's speech. "You think I went to the levee to pleasemyself. I didn't. "

"And is that why you are sorry you went? Don't make yourself out worsethan you are, Dick. You've done a plucky thing for once in a way, andgot yourself into a row with the Den, and I really don't see that youhave very much to reproach yourself with. "

"I don't care a farthing for the Den, " said Dick. 

"But you do for yourself. If I were you, I wouldn't let myself befloored by one reverse. Stick to your man, and you'll get him out ofthe hands of the Philistines after all. "

This little talk did Dick good, and cleared his mind. It put things ina new light. It recalled the Ghost's letter, and brought up in arrayonce more the better resolutions that appeal had awakened. What was theuse of his setting up as an example to his friends, when he was littlebetter than a rowdy himself? Yes; Dick Richardson must be looked to. How, and by whom?

"_Dominat qui in se dominatur_, " said Dick to himself, as he went off tobed, and closed a very uncomfortable and critical day. 

When he went to call Cresswell next morning he found him already up anddressed. 

"Ah, youngster, before you to-day! Have you forgotten it's a holiday?"

"So it is, " said Dick, who, in his troubles, had actually overlooked thefact. 

"What do you say to coming with Freckleton and me for a day's fishing inthe Bay? Winter has given us leave if we keep inside the Sprit Rock, and I expect he'd let you come if I asked him. "

"I'd like it frightfully, " said Dick, glowing with pleasure at theinvitation. 

"All right. Set to work with the sandwiches. Make as many as thepotted meat will allow, and get the matron to boil half-a-dozen eggshard. I'll see Winter after chapel about you, and if it's all squarewe'll start directly after breakfast. "

Dick went into raptures over the making of those sandwiches. Fishingwas one of his great weaknesses, and a day of it, in such lovely weatheras this, and in such distinguished company, was a treat out of theordinary. The one drawback was that neither Heathcote nor Coote was init. That, however, could not be helped; and he decided that, under thecircumstances, it would be kindest not to tell them about it or raisetheir regrets. 

After chapel he made straight for Cresswell's study and waited with someanxiety the result of his senior's application to the Head Master. 

In due time Cresswell returned. 

"All serene, " said he. "He didn't much fancy it, I think; but Iundertook to be responsible for you. "

It occurred to Dick that he didn't see why he couldn't be responsiblefor himself; but he was too anxious not to mar the expedition, to raiseany protest on behalf of his own independence. 

"Take this can, " said Cresswell, "and go down as quick as you can toGreen's, next door to the 'Dolphin, ' and tell him to fill it with wormsfor me, and bring them down to the beach. We're going to have Tug'sboat, and we'll be there in half-an-hour, so look alive. "

Dick, rather thankful to be able to get off unobserved, hurried off onhis savoury errand. He had scarcely once gone down town since theaffair of Tom White's boat, and certainly not since the alarmingparagraphs in the _Observer_ had taken to appearing. But he comfortedhimself with the reflection that Tom was at present on the high seas, and that no one else appeared to have any suspicion which would connecthim (Dick) with the mysterious lad who had been seen on the Strand onthe eventful night last June. 

For all that, he dawdled not a moment longer than he could help. Greenhad the worms ready. 

"So you're going for a day's sport, are you?" said he. "It's a goodday, too, and the whiting ought to be plentiful off the rock. "

"I hope they will, " said Dick. 

"They've been let alone the last week or two, " said the bait merchant, "since our chaps have been out in the deep, so you've a fair chance. "

"When will the boats be back?" asked Dick, rather nervously. 

"We should have seen some of them this morning, but the wind's dropped. Maybe it will be afternoon before they come in. "

"It's always a great day when they come in, isn't it?" asked the boy. 

"Depends on the catch. When it's a bad catch no one cares to see themback. "

Dick tried hard to keep down his next question, but it had a sort offascination for him, and he could not smother it. 

"I suppose, " said he in the most careless tones he could assume, "TomWhite's not likely to come back in a hurry?"

Green laughed. He was no friend of the double-dealing mariner. 

"Not if he knows who's a-going to be down on the beach to welcome him. But, bless you, how's he to know? The sooner he comes home and gets hisright lodgings, the better, so say I. What do you say, young squire?"

The "young squire" did not exactly know what to say, and took up his canof worms to depart, with something like precipitation. 

He found Cresswell and Freckleton waiting for him down at the boat. Until this moment he had never seen the Templeton Hermit, exceptoccasionally at a distance; and he glanced with some curiosity at theface of the fellow who had beaten Pledge for the Bishop's Scholarship. He didn't altogether dislike him. The stolid face and bright black eyesof the Hermit made him a little uncomfortable, but there was anoccasional twitch at the corners of his mouth, and a music, when hechose to use it, in his voice, which reconciled the junior to hispresence, and even interested him in the disposal of his new patron'sgood graces. 

It didn't take long to get "all aboard. " The precious worms were safelydeposited in the hold, the three lines were stowed away under the seat, and the basket containing the sandwiches and hard-boiled eggs addedballast to the bows. Cresswell, who had an idea of doing thingscomfortably, had brought his ulster and made Freckleton bring his. Thelatter had armed himself also with a Shakespeare in case the fish didn'tbite; and three towels, knowingly produced by the whipper-in, added afurther pleasant suggestion for whiling away a dull half-hour. 

The calmness of the day and the absence of any sign of wind induced theparty to vote the mast and sails a useless encumbrance, and they wereaccordingly left ashore, and a spare pair of oars taken in their place. The irony of fate left it to Dick's lot to see the anchor was in propertrim and firmly secured--a task which he discharged with almost vicioussolemnity. 

"What time does the tide turn, Joe?" asked Cresswell of the boatman asthey ran the boat down to the water. 

"Half-past two about, mister. Yer'll need to bring her in close ashoreand give the Fiddle-sand a wide berth while the tide flows. "

"All right. Shove her off, Joe. "

They had a glorious day. The sea had scarcely a ripple, and the skyscarcely a cloud. The fish seemed to vie with one another in fallingupon the bait. The view of Templeton from the sea was perfect, and thesharp outline of the Sprit Rock above them was grandeur itself. 

Dick, as he lolled over the side of the boat, slowly hauling up his lineand speculating whether he had got two fish on each hook or only one, felt supremely at peace with himself and all the world. The sandwicheshad been delicious, Cresswell and Freckleton had treated him like alord, the pile of fish on the floor of the boat was worthy of aprofessional crew, the light breeze was just enough to keep the sun inhis place, and the sofa he had made for himself with Freckleton's ulsterin the bows was like a feather bed. Dick loved the world and everythingin it, and when Cresswell said, "Walk into those sandwiches, young 'un, "he really thought life the sweetest task in which mortal can engage. 

Cresswell and Freckleton were scarcely more proof against the luxury ofthe morning. They chatted in a sort of sleepy undertone, as if theyknew all Nature was taking a nap and didn't want to be disturbed. 

"How did you think old Jupiter got through levee?" asked Cresswell. 

"Well, for those who wish him well, " said the Hermit. 

"Ah, he's an uphill job before him, and I fancy he knows it. If he everis down in the mouth, I think he was so last night after it was allover. "

"I thought so too, " said Freckleton; "that is, I shouldn't call it downin the mouth. He had headache; that's about the same thing. "

"He's staked high. No one else would have dared to challenge the wholeschool in the way he did, " said Cresswell, dropping his voice, butstill, in the quiet air, not quite beyond Dick's hearing. 

"It answered; it brought the right fellows to the front. "

"And shut the wrong fellows hopelessly out?"

"I hope not. Many of them are only fools. They think it's plucky todefy the powers that be, and quite forget it's pluckier to defythemselves. "

"That's a neat way of putting it, old man!"

"There's a big bite this time!" said the Hermit. 

So there was--three fish on two hooks, and it was some time before thediversion was disposed of. 

"It's a pity every one can't be made to see he's his own worst enemy; itwould simplify matters awfully. If a youngster got it into his headthat it wanted more pluck to go against himself than all the Templetonrules put together, we should get some surprises!"

"No chance of that, I'm afraid, while there are fellows like Pledge, whomake it a business to drag youngsters down. "

"You may say so. I should say there's not a youngster in Templeton ingreater peril at this moment than Pledge's fag, and the worst of it isthere is no one to help him. "

Dick suddenly felt his sofa uncomfortable. The boards underneathcramped him; the sun, too, for some reason or other, became too hot, andthe breeze fidgeted him; the last sandwich he had eaten had had too muchmustard in it; he was getting fagged of fishing. 

Although the talk of the two seniors had not been intended for his ears, it had been impossible for him to avoid overhearing it, even if he hadtried, which he had not, and the Hermit's last words had stung him tothe quick and spoilt his enjoyment. 

"What's the matter, youngster?" asked Cresswell. "Getting sea-sick?"

"No, " replied Dick, trying to compose himself. 

"What do you say to a header?"

Dick was stripped in half a minute. Anything for a change. And whatchange more delightful than a plunge in the lovely green sea?

The seniors smiled at his hurry, as they proceeded in a more leisurelyfashion to follow his example. 

"Don't wait for us; over you go, " said Cresswell, "and tell old Neptunewe are coming. "

Dick waited for no further invitation, and sprang from the gunwale. They watched the spreading circles that tracked his dive, and marked thewhite shining streak as it darted past, under the water. 

"He'll be a shark, before long, " said Cresswell. "Look at the distancehe's dived. "

"He has to thank the tide for part of this, though, " said Freckleton, looking at his watch. "Why, it's--"

An exclamation from Cresswell stopped him. Dick had reappeared, but hewas twenty yards at least astern of the boat, and drifting back everymoment. 

At first he did not seem to be aware of it; but, treading water, wavedone hand exultantly to celebrate his long dive. 

But when he began to swim, leisurely at first, but harder presently, hesuddenly realised his position, and saw that instead of making way backto the boat, he was losing distance at every stroke. 

Some of my readers may have been in a similar position, and know thehorror of helplessness which, for a moment, comes over the swimmer atsuch a time. Dick was not given to panic, still less fear, but, for allthat, the minute which ensued was one of the most terrible in his life. 

At certain times of the tide, the current between the Sprit Rock and thelong Fiddle-Sandbank rushed like a mill-race. The boys knew this; theyhad been reminded of it at starting. But the morning had passed soquickly that, until Dick had taken his header, and they saw him sweptastern, it had never occurred to one of them that it could possibly bethree o'clock. Freckleton was the first to see the danger, and almostas soon as Dick appeared above water, he flung off his coat and boots, and saying to Cresswell, "Come quick with the boat, " plunged into thewater. 

He was soon at Dick's side; not to support him, for the boy was able todo that for himself, but to encourage him to keep cool, and not wastehis strength in endeavouring to stem the tide. And Dick had senseenough to take the advice, and tread water quietly till the boat shouldcome. 

It seemed a long time coming. The anchor was fast in the bottom, and itwanted all Cresswell's strength to get it up. Indeed he would have beentempted to simplify matters by cutting the cord, had he had a knife athand. 

By the time it was free, the boys were almost a quarter of a mile away, and getting weary. But once free, their suspense was not prolonged. Cresswell bore quickly down upon them, and picked them up; and rarelydid three friends breathe more freely than when they all stood once moreon the floor of their boat. 

There was no speech-making or wringing of hands, no bragging, nocompliments. They knew one another too well for that, and dressed insilence, much as if the adventure had been an ordinary incident of anordinary bathe. 

"It strikes me, " said Cresswell, who still had the oars out, "it willtake us all our time to get back. Are you ready to take an oar, oldman?"

Short as the time had been--indeed the whole incident had not occupiedmuch more than five minutes--the boat was about a mile below her oldmoorings, and still in the rush of the current. 

It was little the two rowers could do to keep her head up, much less tomake any way; and finally it became clear that if they were to get backto Templeton at all that day, they must either anchor where they were, for six hours, with the risk of their rope not holding in the Race, orelse let the current take them out to the open, and then make a long rowback outside the Sprit, and clear of the Fiddle Bank. 

They decided on the latter, and somewhat gloomily rested on their oars, and watched the backward sweep of the boat on the tide seaward. 

The square tower of Templeton had become a mere speck on the coast-line, before they felt the tide under them relax, and knew they were out ofthe Race. 

Then they manned their oars, and began their long pull home. Fortunately the water still remained quiet, and the breeze did notfreshen. But after about a mile had been made, and the Sprit Rockseemed only midway between them and the shore, a peril still moreserious overtook them. The sky became overcast, and a sea mist, springing from nowhere, came down on the breeze, blotting out first thehorizon, then the rock, and finally the coast, and leaving themvirtually blindfolded in mid-ocean. 

"We may as well anchor, and wait till it clears, " said Cresswell. 

"I think we might go on slowly, " said Freckleton. "If we keep thebreeze on our left, and Dick looks sharp out in front, we are bound tocome either on the Sprit or the shore. Try it for a bit. "

So they tried; rowing gingerly, and steering by the breeze on theircheeks, while Dick, ahead, strained his eyes into the soaking mist. 

They may have made another mile, and still the mist wrapped them round. They had no idea where, they were. They might be close to the Rock, orthey might have drifted down the coast, or they might be coming on tothe Race again. 

Still, anything seemed better than lying idle, and they paddled steadilyon, hoping against hope for a single glimpse of daylight through theveil. 

Suddenly Dick held his hand above his head, and shouted--

"Easy! Hold hard!"

And they could just see a dark object ahead on the water. 

It couldn't be the rock, for it was too small; and they could hardlyimagine it to be part of the pier, or a boat on the beach. 

They shouted; and, in a moment, an answer came, "Ahoy, there!" and theyknew they had come upon a fishing-boat at anchor. 

"It's one of the fleet, waiting to get in. We'd better go alongside, and wait with them, " said Freckleton. 

So Dick shouted to say they were coming, and they rowed carefullyalongside. 

The first sight that met Dick's astonished eyes, as he reached across toseize the gunwale of the friendly boat, was Tom White, sittingcomfortably smoking in the stern. 

"Good day, young gentlemen, " said that worthy. "Can't keep away fromus, can't yer?"

"Hullo, Tom! We've lost our way in the mist, " said Cresswell. "Whereare we?"

"Reckon you're in the bay, and a swim to the pierhead. "

"So near! We made sure we were outside the Sprit. How long have youbeen here?"

"Come here when the tide turned, we did, " said Tom, "with a boat full, and no mistake. Say, young gentlemen, you ain't forgot the poor marinerthat lost his boat, have yer? It's cruel hard to lose your living andhave to begin afresh. "

"If you mean you want a shilling for piloting us ashore, " saidCresswell, "here you are. Will you take us, or will your mate?"

Dick grew uncomfortable, and, under pretence of wanting to examine someof the fish on the floor of the lugger, he scrambled up the side, andgot in. 

"Come back, Dick; do you hear?" called Cresswell. "We must go back ifone of those fellows will run us in. Will you come, Tom?"

Visions of the bar-parlour of the "Dolphin" hovered before Tom's mind ashe looked down at the speaker and the shilling that lay in his hand. 

He was just about to consent, when he felt his arm nudged by Dick, whowas crouching down over the fish at his feet. 

"Tom White, " said the boy, looking up nervously, "don't go ashore. Theyare going to arrest you for pawning that boat that didn't belong to you. Tell your mate to see us ashore. There's another shilling for you!"

Tom took his pipe out of his mouth and gaped at the boy. Then he slowlypocketed the shilling. Then he relieved himself of an oath. Then hecalled his mate--

"Jerry, see the squires ashore. "

With fluttering heart Dick scrambled back into the boat, followed by thehulking Jerry, who, in a very few minutes, ran them comfortably on tothe beach, and made an end of all their perils for that day. 

They reached Templeton just in time for call over; and no one knew, asthey walked into Chapel that evening, through what adventures they hadpassed since they left Templeton in the morning. 

Early next morning Dick could not resist the temptation of going down tocall on Mr Green. 

"Well, did the boats all come in?" he inquired. 

"All, bar Tom White's. And they do say it will be long enough beforeany one sees him in these parts again. He's got wind somehow. It'swonderful the way news travels on water--so it is. "

CHAPTER NINETEEN. 

IN WHICH HEATHCOTE MOUNTS HIGH AND FALLS LOW. 

George Heathcote celebrated the early hours of his holiday by "sleepingin, " until the boom of the Chapel bell shot him headlong out of bed intohis garments. 

Coote, who had not yet mastered the art of venturing into Chapel alone, grew more and more pale as the hand of the clock crawled on, and thedesperate alternative loomed before him, either of sharing hisunpunctual friend's fate, or else of facing the exploit of walkingunaided into his stall in the presence of gazing Templeton. 

He had almost made up his heroic mind to the latter course, when asound, as of coals being shot into a cellar, broke the stillness of themorning air; and next moment, Heathcote descended the stairs at the rateof five steps a second. 

"Come on, you idiot; put it on!" he cried, as he reached Coote, andswept him forward towards the Chapel. 

It was a close shave. Swinstead was shutting the door as Heathcote gothis first foot in, and, but that the usher was unprepared for thedesperate assault of the two juniors, and lost a second in looking tosee what was the matter, Coote would have scored his first bad mark, andHeathcote's name would have figured, for the fifth or sixth time thatterm, on the monitor's black list. 

As the latter young gentleman had nothing but his trousers, slippers, and coat on over his nightshirt, he deemed it prudent to bolt as soon aschapel was over, so as to elude the vigilant eyes of the authorities. He, therefore, saw nothing of Dick as he came out; and Dick, as we haveseen, had too much on hand, just then, to see him. 

At length, however, when the toilet was complete, and the gloriousliberty from lessons began to swell our heroes' breasts, Heathcote'sthoughts turned to Dick. 

"Where's old Dick?" said he to Coote; "did you see him at breakfast?"

"Yes; he was at the other table. But I didn't see where he wentafterwards. "

Heathcote didn't like it. Dick had done him a bad turn yesterday overthat levee business, and the least he could have done to-day would havebeen to find him out and make things jolly again. 

But, instead of that, he had vanished, and left it to Heathcote to findhim out. "Go and see where he is, " said he to Coote. 

The meek Coote obeyed, and took a cursory trot round the School Fieldsin search of his leader. No Dick was there, and no one had seen him. 

Heathcote's face grew longer as he heard the report. It was gettingserious. Dick was not only ill-treating him; he was cutting him. 

He went off to Cresswell's study, as a last chance. The study wasempty; and even the caps were gone from the pegs. Base desertion!

As he left the study he met Pledge. 

"Ah, youngster! Going to grind all to-day?"

"I was looking for Dick. "

"Oh! David looking for Jonathan. Poor chap! Johnny has given you theslip this time. "

"Where has he gone?" asked Heathcote, trying to appear indifferent. 

"The saintly youth has gone for a day's fishing in the Bay, with thedearly-beloved Cresswell and the reverend Freckleton. They have got himan exeat from the Doctor, they have bought him lines and bait, they havefilled his pockets with good things. So you see piety pays after all, Georgie. What a pity you are not pious, too! You wouldn't be left solonely if you were. "

Heathcote was too hard hit to reply; and Pledge was kind enough not toattempt any further consolation. 

It had been coming to this for weeks past. Georgie had refused tobelieve it as long as he could. He had stuck to his chum, and borne allthe rebuffs which had rewarded him, patiently. He had even made excusesfor Dick, and tried to think that their friendship was as strong asever. 

But now he saw that all the time Dick had been falling away and cuttinghimself adrift. This was why he left the "Select Sociables" the momentHeathcote joined them. This was why he went to the levee as soon as hesaw Heathcote was not going. And this was why he had hidden out of theway this morning, for fear Heathcote should find out where he was going, and want to come too. 

Georgie laughed bitterly to himself, as he made the discovery. As if hecared for fishing, or boating, or sandwiches! As if he cared aboutbeing cooped up in a tarry boat the livelong day, with a couple of suchfellows as Cresswell and Freckleton! As if he couldn't enjoy himselfalone or with Coote--poor young Coote, who had come to Templetonbelieving Dick to be his friend, whereas Dick, in his eagerness to toadyto the "saints, " would let him go to the dogs, if it wasn't that he, Heathcote, was there to befriend him. 

So Heathcote went forth defiant, with Coote at his heels, resolved tolet Templeton see he could enjoy himself without Dick. 

He laughed extravagantly at nothing; he feigned to delight himself inthe company of every idler he came across; he scorned loudly such stupidsport as fishing, or tennis, or fives. 

He meant to make his mark. And then Dick, when he came back, wouldgnash his teeth with _envy_ and wish woe to the hour when he was foolenough to desert his noblest friend!

"Tell you what'll be a lark, Coote, " said Heathcote, as the two strodeon, arm in arm, followed by a small crowd of juniors, who, seeing theywere "on the swagger, " hoped to be in the sport as spectators. "Tellyou what; we'll have a walk round the roofs. I know where we can getup. We can get nearly all round the Quad. Won't it be a spree?"

Coote looked as delighted as he could, and said he hoped they wouldn'tbe caught, or there might be a row. 

"Bless you, no one's about to-day. Come on. Nobody's done it sinceFitch fell off a year ago, and he only got half round. "

Coote was inwardly most reluctant to deprive the late Master Fitch ofhis hard-earned laurels, and even hinted as much. But Heathcote was inno humour for paltering. He was playing a high game, and Coote mustplay, too. 

So they gave their followers the slip, and dodged their way back to theQuad, and made for the first staircase next to the Great Gate. Up herethey crept, hurriedly and stealthily. One or two boys met them on theway, but Georgie swaggered past them, as though bound to pay an ordinarymorning call on some occupant of the top floor. The top floor of allwas dedicated to the use of the maids, who at that hour of the day weretoo much occupied elsewhere in making beds and filling jugs, to be atall inconvenient. 

Heathcote, who, considering he had never made the expedition before, waswonderfully well up in the geography of the place, piloted Coote up asort of ladder which ended in a trap-door in the ceiling of the garret. 

"I know it's up here, " he said. "Raggles told me it was the way Fitchgot up. "

"Oh!" said Coote, hanging tight on to the ladder with both arms, andtrusting that, whichever way they ascended, they might select adifferent mode of descent from that adopted by the unfortunate Fitch. 

Horrors! The trap-door was padlocked!

Joy! The padlock was not locked!

They opened the flap, and scrambled into a cavernous space between theceiling and the roof, from which, to Coote's relief, there seemed noexit, except by the door at which they entered. 

Heathcote, however, was not to be put off, and scrambled round the placeon his hands and knees, in search of the hole in the roof, which heknew, on Raggles' authority, was there. 

It was there, at the very end of the gable: a little manhole, just bigenough to let a small body through to clear the gutter, and no more. 

"Hurrah, old man!" shouted Heathcote, in a whisper, to his follower, whostill lingered at the trap-door. "I've got it. Shut that door down, and crawl over here. Mind you keep on the rafters, or you'll dropthrough. "

"Hurrah!" said Coote, pensively, as he proceeded to obey. 

In two minutes they were out upon the roof, and enjoying a wonderfulbird's-eye view of Templeton and the coast beyond. 

A moderately broad gutter ran round the roof on the inside of theQuadrangle, with a low stone parapet at the edge. Along this the twoboys crawled slowly and cautiously, until they had reached about themiddle of their side of the Quadrangle. 

It was dizzy work, looking down from their eminence; but glorious. EvenCoote, now the venture had been made, and no relics of the late MasterFitch had appeared, began to enjoy himself. 

"What a pity Dick isn't here!" said he. 

"Rather! Won't he look blue when he hears of it?" said Heathcote. "Hullo! there are some of the fellows in the Quad. There's Pauncefote, isn't it? I vote we yell. "

"Perhaps somebody would hear. Hadn't we better chuck a stone. "

Heathcote detached a piece of plaster from the gutter, and pitched itneatly down within an inch of the head of the unsuspecting Pauncefote. That hero started, and looked first at the stone, then at the sky. Finally his eyes met Georgie's triumphant face beaming over the parapet, side by side with the rosy countenance of Coote. 

It was enough. In another two minutes the Den knew what was going on, and Georgie and Coote were the heroes of the hour. 

Moved by a desire to afford their spectators an entertainment worthy oftheir applause, they proceeded to make the round of the Quadrangle at asmart, though not always steady, pace; for their attention was so muchdivided between the gutter before them and the upturned faces belowthem, that they were once or twice decidedly close on the heels of theluckless Fitch. 

Once, when they came to a comparatively broad landing, they varied theentertainment by swarming a little way up the tiles and slidinggracefully down again, regardless of tailors' bills; and when thespectators got tired of that, they treated them to a little horse-playby pelting them with bits of plaster, and finally with Coote's hat. 

Even the highest class of entertainment cannot thrill for ever, andafter a quarter of an hour of this edifying exhibition, the Den foundthey had had enough of it, and began to saunter off, much to theamazement of the two performers. 

"May as well cut down, " said Heathcote, when at length the Quad wasdeserted, and nothing seemed likely to be gained by remaining. 

Coote was quite ready to obey. He had enjoyed his outing pretty well, but was rather tired of standing with one foot in front of the other, and keeping his eyes on Georgie. 

He was nearest to the trap-door and had already crouched through it whenHeathcote, perceiving that one of the Den had come back for anotherlook, decided, in the kindness of his heart, to take one last turn roundbefore retiring. 

He had accomplished half his journey, and was glancing down ratheranxiously to see if the boy was enjoying it, when a second-floor windowon the opposite side suddenly opened and Mansfield looked out. 

This apparition nearly sent Georgie headlong over the parapet. He savedhimself by dropping on his hands and knees. He wasn't sure whether theCaptain had seen him or not. If he had, he was in for it. If he hadnot, why on earth did he stand there at the window?

Georgie's performance ended in a humiliating wriggle back along thegutter to the trap-door. He dared not show so much as his "whisker"above the parapet, and as the parapet was only high enough to concealhim as he lay full length on his face, the return journey was bothpainful and tedious. 

At last he reached the door where the faithful Coote anxiously awaitedhim, wondering what had kept him, and not sure whether the peculiarmanner in which he advanced to the door was to be regarded as a joke ora feat of agility. 

As Heathcote did not gratify his curiosity on this point, he receivedthe hero with a smile of mingled humour and admiration, and thenfollowed him in his precipitate descent to the lower world. 

At the bottom of the staircase, Duffield was comfortably lounging. 

"Hullo, kids!" he said, "you've got down then? What a mess you're in!Mansfield wants you, Heathcote. "

And the messenger departed, whistling a cheery tune, and dribblingCoote's cap, after the straightest rules of the Association, across theQuad before him. 

Heathcote's face lengthened. This was the triumphal reception which wasto greet him on his return to earth, the mention of which was to setDick's teeth gnashing!

He walked sulkily to Mansfield's study, and knew his fate almost beforehe entered the room. 

The Captain was stern and cutting. He wasted few words in inquiry, still fewer in expostulation. 

"You're one of the boys it's no use talking to, " he said, almostscornfully. "You'll be glad to hear I'm not going to talk to you. I'mgoing to thrash you. "

And that beautiful holiday morning George Heathcote was thrashed in amanner which hurt and startled him. 

He fled from the Captain's presence, sore both in body and mind. But, strange to say, his chief wrath was reserved not for the Captain, butfor Dick. His mind, once poisoned, contrived to connect Dick with everycalamity that came upon him. And it enraged him to think that at thismoment, while he was smarting under the penalty of a straightforwardhonest breach of rules, inflicted by a senior whose chief quarrel withhim was that he had had the pluck to stay away from levee, Dick wasreaping the benefit of his toadyism and basking in the sunshine of thepowers that were. 

Pledge, as might be expected, did nothing to discourage this feeling. He was not a bit surprised. He had expected it, and he knew equallywell it was but the beginning of a settled programme. Heathcote hadbetter not keep up the contest. He had better knuckle under at once, asDick had done, and enjoy a quiet time. Or, if he must break rules, lethim remember that fellows could lie, and cheat, and sneak in Templeton, and never once be interfered with by the holy monitors; but when oncethey took to walking on the roofs--why, where could they expect to go towhen they descended to such a depth of wickedness as that?

Heathcote spend a miserable afternoon, letting his misfortune andPledge's words rankle in his breast till he hated the very name of Dickand goodness. 

In due time the three fishers returned that evening tired with theirhard day's work, and bronzed with the sun and breeze. 

Dick looked serious and anxious as he followed his seniors into theQuadrangle, carrying the ulsters and the empty luncheon basket. 

"Ah, " thought Heathcote, as he watched him from a retired nook, "he'sashamed of himself. He well may be. "

The two seniors turned in at Westover's door, leaving Dick to continuehis walk alone. 

Now was Heathcote's time. Emerging from his corner he put his handscarelessly in his pockets and advanced to meet his former friend, whistling a jaunty tune. 

He was half afraid Dick might not see him, but Dick had a quick eye fora friend, and hailed him half across the Quadrangle. 

"Hullo, Georgie, old man!" said he, running up. "So awfully sorry youcouldn't come on our spree too. What's the matter?"

What, indeed? Georgie, with an elaborate air of unconsciousness eitherof the voice or the presence of his comrade, walked on looking straightin front of him and whistling more jauntily than ever. 

Dick stood for a moment aghast. He would fain have believed his chumhad either not seen him or was joking. But a sinking at his heart toldhim otherwise, and a rush of anger told him that whatever the reasonmight be it was an unjust one. 

So he checked his inclination to pursue his friend and demand anexplanation there and then, and strolled on, whistling himself. 

Heathcote pursued his dignified walk until he concluded he might safelystop whistling and venture to peep round. 

When he did so he was dismayed to see Dick walking arm in arm across theQuadrangle with Coote, laughing at some narration which that pliableyoung gentleman was giving. 

Poor Georgie! This was the hardest blow of all. If Dick had appearedcrushed, if he had even looked hurt, or said one word of regret, Georgie's heart would have been comforted and his wrath abated. 

But to have his elaborate demonstration of rebuke ignored and quietlypassed by in favour of Coote was too much! Georgie could not bear it. Pledge and all Pledge's sophistry vanished in a moment with the loss ofhis friend. 

If Dick would only give him another chance!

CHAPTER TWENTY. 

HOW COOTE COMES OUT AS A SUSPICIOUS CHARACTER. 

It would have been well for Heathcote if he had acted on the impulse ofthe moment, and made it up with Dick that same evening. 

Dick had come back from his boating expedition better disposed towardshis lieutenant than he had been for a long time. He had come determinedto befriend him, and rescue him from his enemies, and set him up uponhis feet. He had come, reproaching himself with his former neglect, andconvinced that Georgie's fate was in his hands for good or evil; andthat being so, he had determined to make a good job of his friend andturn him out a credit to Templeton. 

But in all this modest programme it had never occurred to him thatGeorgie would be anything but delighted to be taken in hand and made agood job of. 

Therefore, when in the fulness of his benevolence he had found hisfriend out immediately on his return, and been repulsed for his pains, Dick felt "gravelled. "

All his nice little plan of campaign fell through. It was no userouting the Den, and putting Pledge and the "Sociables" to shame, whenGeorgie wouldn't be made a good job of. And so Dick, with some dismayand considerable loss to his self-conceit, had to order a retreat andconsider whether the war was worth going on with under thecircumstances. 

He therefore did not meet Heathcote half-way, and curled himself up intobed, sorely perplexed, sorely crest-fallen, and sorely out of love withthe world at large. 

No news spreads so fast as the news of a quarrel, and before school waswell launched next morning the noise of a "row" between Dick andHeathcote ran through Templeton from end to end. 

The Den heard it, and hoped there would be a fight. The "SelectSociables" heard it, and voted it a good job. The Fourth and Fifthheard it, and said, "Young idiots!" The Sixth heard it, and shook theirheads. 

Pledge, however, regarded the matter with complacency. 

"So it's a row, is it?" said he, as his _protege_ wandereddisconsolately into his study after morning school. "Pistols for two, coffee for four, and all that sort of thing, eh?"

"He cuts me dead, " said Heathcote. 

"And you break your heart? Of course you do. I knew you couldn't geton without him. "

"I don't break my heart at all!" said Heathcote, savagely. 

"No; you look as if you were going to hang yourself! How glad he'll beto see dear Georgie sorrowing for his sins! If you'll take my advice, you'll go out next time you see him and lie down at his feet and ask himkindly to tread upon you. "

"I'm not going to bother about him!" said Heathcote, miserably. "If hewants to make up, he'll have to come and ask me himself. "

"And, of course, you'll fall on his neck, and weep, and say, 'Oh! yes, Iloved you always. ' Very pretty! Seriously, youngster--don't make adonkey of yourself! As long as it pays him to cut you, he will cut you, and when it pays him better to be friends, he'll want to be friends. Don't make yourself too cheap. You're better than a dirty halfpenny, tobe played pitch and toss with. "

These words sank deep in the boy's disturbed mind, and drove away anylingering desire for an immediate reconciliation. 

Day after day the two old chums met and cut one another dead, and thespectacle of the "split" became a part of every-day life at Templeton. 

At the end of a week fellows almost forgot that David and Jonathan hadever been on speaking terms. 

Then an unlooked-for incident caused a diversion and upset thecalculations of everybody. 

Coote had, of all interested parties, least relished the falling-out ofhis two old comrades. It had not only pained him as a friend, but, personally, it had caused him the greatest discomfort. 

For he found himself in the position of an animated buffer between thetwo. When Heathcote wanted to show off to Dick that he was not breakinghis heart on his account, he got possession of Coote, and lavisheduntoward affection on that tender youth. And when Dick wanted toexhibit to Heathcote that he was not pining in solitude for want of anadherent, he attached Coote to his person and treated him like his ownbrother. 

And Coote, when Heathcote had him, was all for Heathcote, and eloquenton the abominable sins of piety and inconstancy. And when he was withDick he was all for Dick, and discoursed no less eloquently on thewickedness of deceit and poorness of spirit. Sometimes his bad memory, and the quick transitions of allegiance through which he was called uponto pass, made him forget his _role_, and condole with Dick onHeathcote's piety, or with Heathcote on Dick's poverty of spirit; andsometimes, when, in the company of the one, he happened to meet theother, he quite lost his head and made an ass of himself to both. 

This course of double dissimulation at the end of a week began to loseits charms, and Coote, with all his good nature and desire to makethings pleasant for everybody, began to get tired of his two friends andlong for a breath of freedom. 

So he took an early morning stroll along the cliffs one morning, finishing up with Mr Webster's shop in the High Street. 

The gossiping Templeton stationer had suffered somewhat in temper sincethe reader saw him last, three months ago. The young gentry for whom hecatered were not the "apples of his eyes" they had been. Not that hewas at open war with them, but he had a grievance. 

He didn't complain of the liberties they sometimes took with his shop--making it a general house of call and discussion forum. That was goodfor trade, and Mr Webster didn't object to anything that was good fortrade. Nor did the occasional horse-play, and even fighting, that tookplace on his premises now and then sour his milk of human kindness morethan was natural. But when it came to abusing, not himself, but hisgoods, with the result that a good many of the latter, in the course ofa term, came to be damaged, and some, he had reason to suppose, pilfered, then Mr Webster thought it time to make a stand and asserthimself. He was, therefore, more brusque and less obsequious to thejunior portion of Templeton this term than he had been last. 

So, when Coote, in the artlessness of his nature, feigned an earnestdesire to know the price of an elegant ormolu inkpot, and modestlyinquired it, the tradesman eyed him sharply and replied--

"Ten shillings. Do you want to buy it?"

Coote was one of those individuals who cannot say "no" to a shopman. Though nothing was further from his mind than putting his sadly reducedpocket-money into an ormolu inkpot, his tender heart could not bear todash the stationer's hopes too rudely. He said he couldn't quite makeup his mind, and would just look round, if he might. 

Mr Webster had got tired of the young Templeton gentlemen "lookinground. " He knew what it meant, generally. The springs of all hisinkpots got critically tested, pencils got twisted in and out till theyrefused to twist again, desks got ransacked, and their contents mixed inglorious and hopeless confusion, photographs got thumbed, books got dog-eared; and the sole profit to the honest merchant was the healthyexercise of putting everything tidy after his visitors had left, and thesatisfaction of expressing his feelings in language strictly selectedfrom the dictionary. 

He was, therefore, by no means elated at Coote's proposal, and mighthave vetoed it, had not an important customer, in the shape of the Rev. Mr Westworth, the curate, entered at that moment, and diverted hisattention. But even the reverend gentleman's conversation was unableentirely to engross the honest bookseller, who kept a restless corner ofone eye on the boy's movements, while, with the rest of his features, hesmiled deferentially at his customer. 

Coote, meanwhile, unaware of the suspicion with which he was beingregarded, enjoyed a pleasant five minutes in turning Mr Webster's stockof writing materials inside out. Being of a susceptible nature, he fellin love with a great many things in the course of his investigations, and the ormolu inkpot was several times eclipsed. What took his fancymost was a pretty chased silver penholder and pencil, which shut up intothe compass of a date-stone, and yet, when open, was large and firmenough to write out the whole of Virgil at a sitting. 

Whatever else he looked at, he always came back to this treasure; andfinally, when he became aware that Mr Westworth was about to depart, hehad almost to push it from him, in order to bring himself to the pitchof leaving too. 

He had no desire further to lacerate Mr Webster's feelings by decliningto purchase anything, and therefore quitted the shop hurriedly, notnoticing, as he did so, that the unlucky little pencil, which he had putdown with such affectionate reluctance, had shown its regret by rollingquietly and sadly off the tray on to the counter, till it reached a gaphalf-way, into which it plunged suicidally, and became lost to the lightof day. 

Mr Webster, who had seen as little of the catastrophe as the boy had, bowed his reverend guest out, and then turned to the disordered traywith a shrug of his shoulders. 

His review of its contents had not lasted half a minute when he startedand uttered an exclamation. The pencil was gone--so was Coote!

For once there was no shadow of a doubt in the honest stationer's mind;it was as clear as daylight. No one else had been in the shop exceptthe curate, who had never been near the tray. Coote had; he had touchedand fingered all its contents; he had had this very pencil in his hand, he had quitted the shop abruptly, and started running as soon as he gotoutside. 

Mr Webster _did_ know what two and two made, and it was quite a reliefto him to feel absolutely and positively certain he had been robbed by aTempleton boy!

His one difficulty was that he did not remember having seen Cootebefore, nor did he know his name. However, he would find him, if he hadthe whole school marched one by one in front of him, and, when he hadfound him, he would make an example of him. 

Blissfully unconscious of the cloud on the horizon, Coote had arrived atthe school just in time for chapel. On his way out Heathcote came upand took his arm. 

"Well, old fellow, " said that youth in a loud voice, which made itperfectly clear to Coote that Dick must be somewhere within hearing, "come and have another jolly two-hander after school, won't you? Youand I ought to be able to lick Raggles and Culver into fits now, oughtn't we?"

"It's a wonder to me, " said Dick, walking off in another direction withAspinall, "how Raggles and Culver play tennis at all; any fool couldlick them left-handed. "

Aspinall knew better than to dispute the assertion, and submitted to betaken down to the courts after morning school by Dick, where, in fullview of Heathcote and Coote, the two played an exciting match, in which, of course, Dick came off victorious, for the simple reason that Aspinallhad not the moral courage to beat him. 

Towards the end of the game Cresswell and Cartwright walked up withtheir rackets. Finding all the courts occupied, Cresswell said toDick--

"You two may as well make up a four with Heathcote and Coote; we wantone of the courts. "

Dick was delighted to give up the court, but he was far too fagged toplay any more. So was Aspinall, wasn't he? Besides, they neither ofthem cared about four-handers. 

Heathcote and Coote, for their part, were far too absorbed in their gameto heed Cresswell's suggestion. They were playing best out of fifteensets, Georgie announced, and had just finished the third. Which beingknown, the spectators fell away from that part of the field rapidly. 

The two o'clock bell sounded before the fifth set was over, rather toCoote's relief, who had been getting just tennis enough during the lastweek. 

The two champions were walking back lovingly to the school, when, asthey approached the Quad gate, Heathcote said--

"Hallo! there's Webster! What's he hanging about for there?"

"Perhaps you owe him a bill, " said Coote. 

"Not I. I've jacked Webster up; he's a surly beast. "

"I was in his shop this morning, " said Coote. "There was such astunning little shut-up penholder, about so big. I can't fancy how theymake them shut up so small. "

"Did you buy it?"

"No; I couldn't afford it. Hallo! what does he want? He's beckoning. "

"Jolly cheek of him!" said Heathcote. "If he wants you, let him come. I wouldn't go to him if I were you. Call out and ask him what hewants. "

Whereupon Coote called out:--

"What do you want?"

"I want you, " said the bookseller, approaching. 

"Tell him you're busy, and he'd better come again. "

"I'm busy, I say, " cried Coote; "come again. "

"No, thank you, " said Mr Webster, stepping before the boys. "Ah! goodday to you, Mr Heathcote; quite a stranger, sir. If you'll allow me, Iwould like a word with your friend?"

"You know you'll get in a row, Webster, if you're seen up here, " saidHeathcote. "All the shop fellows have to stop at the gate. "

Having delivered which piece of friendly caution, Georgie walked on, leaving Coote and the bookseller _tete-a-tete_. 

"What do you want?" asked Coote. 

"Come, none of your tricks with me, young fellow! I want that pencil-case, there!"

"Pencil-case! What pencil-case? I've not got any pencil-case!" saidCoote. 

Mr Webster had expected this; he would have been a trifle disappointedhad the criminal pleaded guilty at once. 

"Do you suppose I didn't see you with it in your hand in my shop, sir, this morning?" said he. 

"But I didn't take it--I haven't got it--I wouldn't do such a thing, "said Coote, beginning to feel very uncomfortable. 

"You'd like me to suppose that some one else took it; wouldn't you?"said Mr Webster, feeling so sure of his ground as quite to enjoyhimself. 

"If you've lost it, somebody else did. I didn't, " said the boy. 

"Now, look here, young gentleman, that sort of thing may go down at homeor here in school, but it's no use trying it on with me. If you don'tchoose to give me that pencil this moment, we'll see what a policemancan do. "

At this threat Coote turned pale. "Really, I never took it! You mayfeel in my pockets. Oh, _please_ don't bring a policeman, Mr Webster!"

"What's your name?" demanded Mr Webster, ostentatiously producing apencil and paper. 

"Coote--Arthur Dennis Coote, " said the trembling boy. 

"Address?"

"One, Richmond Villas, Richmond Road, G---. "

"Very well, Mr Coote, " said the stationer, folding up the paper andputting it into his pocket-book; "unless you call on me before this timeto-morrow with the pencil, I'll have you locked up. Good morning. "

Coote, with his heart in his shoes, watched the retreating figure tillit was lost to view, and then turned, bewildered and scared, to theschool. 

Heathcote was waiting for him at the door. 

"Well, what did the cad want?--what's the row, I say?" he demanded, catching sight of the dazed face of his chum. 

"Oh, Georgie, a most frightful row!" gasped Coote. "He says I've stolena pencil!"

"What, the one you were talking about?"

"Yes, the very one. "

"I suppose you haven't, really?" asked Heathcote, with no falsedelicacy. 

"No, really I haven't--that is, if I have I-- Look here; do hunt mypockets, will you, old man?"

Georgie obeyed, and every pocket of the unhappy Coote was successivelyexplored, without bringing to light the missing pencil. 

"There, " said the suspect, with a sigh of relief when the operation wasover, "I was positive I hadn't got it. He says I was the only one inthe shop, and that he missed it as soon as I had gone; but really andtruly I didn't take it; I never did such a thing in my life. "

"Of course you didn't. He's a cad and has got a spite against us, that's what it is. What's he going to do?"

"He says unless I take it to him by this time to-morrow, he'll send apoliceman to take me up, " and the unhappy youth's voice choked with thewords. 

Heathcote gave a long, dismal whistle. 

"Whatever will you do?" he asked, in tones of deep concern. 

"How can I take it back?" asked Coote, "if I hadn't got it. I wish togoodness I had got it!"

"You'll have to square him, somehow, " said Georgie. "You're positive ithasn't dropped into your shoes, or anywhere, by accident. "

The bare suggestion sent Coote up to the dormitory, where he undressed, and shook out each article of his toilet, in the hope of discovering thelost treasure. 

Alas! high or low, there was no _sign_ of it. 

He spent a terrible afternoon, wondering where he should be that timeto-morrow, or whether possibly Mr Webster would alter his mind, andsend a policeman up forthwith. 

He was in no humour for tennis, or a row in the Den, or a "Sociable"concert after school, and avoided them all. And to add to his troubles, Heathcote was detained two hours for some offence; so that he wasdeprived for an equal length of time of the consolation of that hero'ssympathy and advice. 

He spent the interval dismally in a retired corner of the field, wherehe hoped to be able to collect his shattered wits in peace. But it wasno good. He could see no way through it. 

"Oh!" thought he, for the hundredth time, "how I wish I had really takenit!"

He had just arrived at this conclusion, when a light step approaching, caused him to look up, and see Dick. 

"Hullo, old man, " said the latter, "how jolly blue you look. What's therow?"

Coote repeated his dismal story, and marked the dismay which crept overhis leader's face as he told it. 

"By Jove, old man, " said Dick, "it's a mess. How ever are you to getout?"

"That's just what I don't know, " groaned Coote. "If I only had thepencil it would be all right. But, really and truly, Dick, I never tookit; did I?"

"All serene, " said Dick. "But, I say, if you can't give him the pencilback, perhaps you can pay him for it. "

"It cost thirty shillings; and I've only got seven-and-six. "

"I've got ten shillings, " said Dick. "That's seventeen-and-six. Perhaps if we gave him that, he'd wait for the rest. "

"You're an awful brick, " said poor Coote, gratefully. "If it hadn'tbeen for you and Georgie, I don't know what I should have done. "

Dick started and coloured. 

"Is he in it? Does he know about it?" he asked. 

"Yes, Dick, " said Coote, feeling rather in a hobble. "I--thought, youknow, I'd better tell him. "

"What did he say?"

"Oh, not much; that is, he said he'd help me if he could. But--I don'tsee how he can. "

"He might be able to lend you enough to make up the price, " said Dick, after a pause. 

"I know he would, he's such a brick--that is, " added the wretched Coote, correcting himself, "you're both such bricks. "

Dick made no answer, but walked off, musing to himself. 

"Both bricks!" And yet poor Coote had to blush when he mentioned thename of one brick to the other! Dick was getting tired of this. 

He retired to the school, to think over what could be done, and wasabout to ascend the stairs, when the familiar form of Georgie appearedcoming to meet him. 

"Georgie, Coote's in an awful mess; I vote we back him up. "

"So do I, rather, old man. "

And they went off arm-in-arm to find him. 

Check to you, Pledge!

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE. 

HOW OUR HEROES FALL OUT OF THE FRYING-PAN INTO THE FIRE. 

Templeton opened its eyes as it saw David and Jonathan walking togetheracross the fields that afternoon. The Den, with native quickness ofperception, instantly snuffed a battle in the air, and dogged the heelsof the champions with partisan shouts and cheers. 

"Dick will finish him in a round and a half, " shouted Raggles. 

"Don't you be too cock-sure, " cried Gosse, "Georgie's got a neat'square-fender' on him, and I rather fancy him best myself. "

Gosse had not the ghost of a notion what a "square-fender" was; nor hadanyone else. But the word carried weight, and there was a run onGeorgie accordingly. 

Raggles, however, was not to be snuffed out too easily. 

"Bah!" shouted he, "what's the use of a 'square-fender, ' when Dick canget down his 'postman's knock' over the top, and blink his man intofits. "

After that Georgie was nowhere. A fellow who can "blink" his man with a"postman's knock, " no matter what it means, is worth half-a-dozen"square-fenders. " And so Dick became a favourite, and the event wasconsidered as good as settled. 

Which was just as well; for our heroes, as they walked in search ofCoote, could not be so engrossed either in their newly-healed alliance, or in the affliction of their friend, as to be unaware of the commotionat their heels. And it was not till Dick had ordered the foremost ofthe procession to "hook it, " enforcing his precept by one or twoimpartially-distributed samples of his "postman's knock, " that it dawnedon the Den there was to be no fight after all. 

Whereupon they yapped off in disgust, with their noses in the air, insearch of some better sport. 

Left to themselves, our heroes, with a strange mixture of joy andanxiety in their hearts, broke into a trot, and presently sighted Coote. 

That unhappy youth, little dreaming of the revolution which his scrapewas destined to effect in Templeton, was still sitting where Dick hadleft him, ruefully meditating on his near prospect of incarceration. The vision of Dick and Heathcote advancing upon him by no means tendedto allay the tumult of his feelings. 

"I'm in for it now, " groaned he to himself. "They're both going topitch into me for telling the other. What a mule I was ever to come toTempleton. "

But Dick's first words dispelled these gloomy forebodings effectually. 

"Keep your pecker up, old man, Georgie and I are both going to back youup. We'll pull you through somehow. "

"I've got ten bob, " said Georgie. "That's twenty-seven-and-six. Perhaps he'll let you off the other half-crown. "

Considering he had not abstracted the pencil at all, Coote inwardlythought Mr Webster might forego this small balance, and be no loser. And he half-hinted as much. 

"It's an awful shame, " said he, "not to believe my word. I really don'tsee why we ought to stump up at all. "

But this proposal by no means suited his ardent backers-up, who lookedupon the whole affair as providential, and by no means to be burked. 

"Bound to do it, " said Dick decisively. "Things look ugly against you, you know, and it would be a terrible business if you got locked up. Itwould cost less to square Webster then to bail you out; wouldn't it, Georgie?"

"Rather!" said Georgie. "Besides, it looks awkward if it gets out thatyou've been to prison. --Our 'Firm' oughtn't to get mixed up in that sortof mess. "

After this, Coote resigned all pretensions to the further direction ofhis own defence, and left his case unreservedly in the hands of his twohonest partners. 

They decided that very evening, with or without leave, to go down withthe twenty-seven-and-six to Mr Webster. 

Dick was the only one of the three who got leave; but his two friendsconsidered the crisis one of such urgency that even without leave theyshould brave all consequences and accompany him. 

Mr Webster was in the act of putting up his shutters when the smallcareworn procession halted before his door, and requested the favour ofan interview. 

The bookseller was in a good temper. He had rather enjoyed the day'sadventure, and reckoned that the moral effect of his action would begood. Besides, the looks of the culprit and his two friends fullyjustified his suspicions. They had doubtless come to restore thepencil, and plead for mercy. They should see that mercy was not kept instock in his shop, and would want some little trouble before it was tobe procured. 

So he bade his visitors step inside, and state their business. 

"We've come about the pencil, you know, " said Dick, adopting aconciliatory tone to begin with. "It's really a mistake, Webster. Coote never took it. "

"No. We've known Coote for years, and never knew him do such a thing, "said Heathcote. 

"And they've turned out every one of my pockets, " said Coote, "and therewas no sign of it. "

Mr Webster smiled serenely. 

"Very pretty, young gentlemen; very pretty. When you have done joking, perhaps, you'll give me what belongs to me. "

"Hang it!" cried Dick, forgetting his suavity. "It's no joke, Webster. I tell you, Coote never took the thing. "

"You were here in the shop, of course, and saw him?" said the tradesman. 

"No, I wasn't, " said Dick; "you know that as well as I do. "

"Coote, " said Heathcote, feeling it his turn to back up--"Coote's agentleman; not a thief. "

"I'm glad to hear that, " said Mr Webster. "He's sure he's not both?"

"I'm positive, " said Coote. 

"And is that all you've come to say?" said the bookseller. 

"No, " said Dick. "It's an awful shame if you can't believe us. But ifyou won't--well, we'd sooner pay you for the pencil and have done withit. "

Mr Webster was charmed. He had always imagined himself a sharp man andhe was sure of it now. For a minute or two the boys' jointprotestations of innocence had staggered his belief in Coote's guilt;but this ingenuous offer convinced him he had been right after all. 

"Oh, you didn't steal it, but you're going to pay for it, are you? Verypretty! What do you think it was worth?"

"Thirty shillings, " said Dick, "that was the price marked on it. "

"And yet you never saw it. "

"Of course I didn't, " retorted Dick, beginning to feel hot. "I've toldyou so twice--Coote saw it. "

"Yes, " said Coote, "there was a tiny label on it. "

"We can't make up quite thirty shillings, " said Heathcote; "but we'vegot twenty-seven shillings and sixpence. I suppose you'll make thatdo?"

"_Do_ you suppose I'll make it do?" said Mr Webster, beginning to feelhot, too. "You think you can come to my shop, and pilfer my things likeso many young pickpockets; and then you have the impudence to come andoffer me part of the price to say nothing about it. No, thank you. That's not my way of doing business. "

"There's nothing else we can do, " said Dick. 

"Oh, yes, there is. You can march off to the lockup--all three of youif you like; but one of you, anyhow. And so you will, as sure as Istand here. "

"Oh, Mr Webster, I say, please don't say that. He never took it, really he didn't. "

"Come, that'll do. Twelve o'clock to-morrow, unless I get the pencil, you'll get a call from the police. Off you go. I've had enough ofyou. "

And the bookseller, whose temper had gradually been evaporating duringthe visit, bustled our heroes out of the shop, and slammed the doorbehind them. 

"It's all up, old man, " said Heathcote, lugubriously. "I did think thecad would shut up for twenty-seven shillings and sixpence. "

"I'm afraid he wants me more than the money, " said Coote. "Whatever_can_ I do?"

"You can't prove you didn't take it; that's the worst, " said Dick. 

"He can't prove I did. He only thinks I did. How I wish I _had_ thatstupid pencil. "

With which original conclusion they returned to Templeton. Dick, undercover of his _exeats_ marched ostentatiously in. The other two, in afar more modest and shy manner, entered by their hands and knees, onreceipt of a signal from their leader that the coast was clear. 

Heathcote deemed it prudent not to exhibit himself in the Den, andtherefore retired to Pledge's study as the place least likely to bedangerous. 

Pledge was there working. 

"Hullo, youngster, " said he, "what's been your little game this evening?Been to a prayer meeting?"

"No, " said Heathcote laconically. 

It was no part of Pledge's manner to appear inquisitive. He saw therewas a mystery, and knew better than to appear in the slightest degreeanxious to solve it. 

He had as yet heard nothing of the newly-formed alliance in low life, and attributed Heathcote's uncommunicativeness either to shame for somediscreditable proceeding, or else to passing ill-humour. In either casehe reckoned on knowing all about it before long. 

Heathcote was very uncomfortable. It had not occurred to him till justnow that Pledge would resent the return of his allegiance to Dick as anact of insubordination. Not that that would keep him from Dick; butHeathcote, who had hitherto admired his old patron as a friend, by nomeans relished the idea of having him an enemy. He therefore felt thatthe best thing he could do was to hold his tongue, and if, after all, arow was to come, well--it would have to come. 

He sat down to do his own preparation, and for half an hour neitherstudent broke the silence. 

Then Pledge, who had never known his _protege_ silent for so longtogether before, felt there must be something the matter which he oughtto be aware of. 

So he leaned back in his chair and stretched himself. 

"You're a nice boy, George!" said he, laughing; "you've been sittinghalf an hour with your pen in your hand and haven't written a word. "

Georgie coloured up. 

"It's a stiff bit of prose, " said he. 

"So it seems. Suppose I do it for you?"

"No, thanks, Pledge, " said the boy, who, without having any particularhorror of having his lessons done for him, did not like just now, whenhe was conscious of having revolted against his senior, to acceptfavours from him. 

"No? It's true, then, Georgie is joining the elect and going to takeholy orders?"

"No, I'm not, " said Georgie. 

"Then Georgie is trying to be funny and not succeeding, " said themonitor, drily, returning to his own books. 

Another silent quarter of an hour passed, and then the first bed bellrang. 

"Good-night, " said Heathcote, gathering together his books. 

"Good-night, dear boy!" said Pledge, with the red spots coming out onhis cheeks; "come down with me to the 'Tub' in the morning. "

"I'm going down with another fellow, " said Georgie, feeling his heartbumping in his chest. 

"Oh!" said the monitor, indifferently; "with a _very_ dear friend?--thesaintly Dick, for instance?"

"Yes, " said Heathcote, and left the room. 

Pledge sat motionless, watching the closed door for a full minute, and, as he did so, an ugly look crept over his face, which it was well forHeathcote he did not see. Then he turned mechanically to his books, andburied himself in them for the rest of the evening. 

The "Tub" next morning was crowded as usual, and it needed very littlepenetration on Pledge's part to see that the triple alliance between ourthree heroes was fast and serious. 

They undressed on the same rock, they dived side by side from thespring-board, they came above water at the same moment, they challengedcollectively any other three of the Den to meet them in mortal combat inmid-Tub, and they ended up their performance by swimming solemnly infrom the open arm-in-arm, Coote, of course, being in the middle. 

All this Pledge observed, and marked also their anxious looks andhurried consultations as they dressed. He guessed that there must besome matter of common interest which was just then acting as the pivoton which the alliance turned, and his taste for scientific researchdetermined him, if possible, to discover it. 

So when, after "Tub, " the three friends marched arm-in-arm down town, Pledge casually strolled the same way at a respectful distance. 

It was clear the "Firm" was bound on a momentous and unpleasant errand. 

Coote every other minute was convulsed by the brotherly claps which thebackers-up on either side bestowed upon him; and the long faces of allthree, as now and then they stopped and scrutinised the shop-window ofsome silversmith or pawnbroker, betokened anything but content or highspirits. 

At length Pledge saw them enter very dejectedly at Mr Webster's door, where, not being anxious to disturb them, he left them and took a shortturn down the shady side of High Street, within view of the stationer'sshop. 

Their business was not protracted, for in about three minutes he sawthem emerge, with faces longer than ever, and turn their steps hurriedlyand dismally towards Templeton. 

When they were out of sight, Pledge crossed the road and casually turnedin at Mr Webster's door. 

"Well, Webster, anything new?"

"No, sir; nothing in your line, I'm afraid, " said the shopman. 

"By the way, " said Pledge, carelessly, "was that my fag I saw coming outhere just now?"

"Mr Heathcote?" said Webster, frowning. "Yes, that was he, sir, andtwo friends of his. I'm afraid he's getting into bad company, MrPledge. "

"Are you? What makes you think that?"

"It's an unpleasant matter altogether, " said Mr Webster, "and likely tobe more so. The fact is, sir, I've been robbed. "

And he proceeded to give Pledge an account of the loss of the pencil-case, and of the efforts of the boys to get the matter hushed up. 

Pledge heard it with an amused smile. 

"They've just been here to try and buy me off, " said the indignantshopkeeper, "but I'm going to make an example of them. I'm sorry to doit, Mr Pledge, but it's only fair to myself, isn't it, sir?"

"I don't know, " said Pledge; "I don't see that it will do you much good. You'd better leave it to me. "

"Leave it to you?"

"Well, I expect I can get back your pencil as easily as you can, ifthey've got it. You're sure they have got it?"

"I'm certain Master Coote took it; certain as I stand here. Whatthey've done with it among them I can't say. "

"Well, don't be in a hurry. I'm a monitor, you know, and it's as muchto my interest to follow the thing up as to yours. If you'll take myadvice, you won't be in a hurry to prosecute. Wait a week. "

"Very good, sir, " said the bookseller, to whom it was really a relief topostpone final action for a day or two, at least. If Pledge, meanwhile, should succeed in bringing the culprit to book, it would still rest withMr Webster to decide whether to make an example of him or not Pledgedeparted, and the bookseller turned to dust his shop out for the day. In this occupation he had not proceeded far, when his brush, penetratinginto a crack in his counter, caused something within to rattle. Being atidy man, and not favouring dust or dirt of any sort, even out of sight, he proceeded to probe the hole in order to clear away the obstruction, when, to his amazement and consternation, he discovered, snugly lying inthe hollow, the lost pencil-case!

Mr Webster's first thought was, "Artful young rogues! They've broughtit back, and hidden it here to escape punishment!"

And yet, when he came to think of it, all the dust in that hole couldnot have settled there during the last half-hour; nor--and he was sureof this--had either of the boys, on their last two visits, been anywherenear that side of his shop. 

After all, he had "run his head against a stone wall, " and narrowlyescaped ruining himself as far as Templeton was concerned. For he knewthe young gentlemen of that school well enough to be sure, after ablunder like this, that the place would soon have become too hot to holdhim. 

Mr Webster positively gasped at the thought of his narrow escape, andforgot all about Pledge, and the culprit, and the culprit's friends, inhis self congratulation. 

About mid-day, however, he was suddenly reminded of them all, by thevision of Dick darting into the shop. 

"Webster, " said that youth, in tones of breathless entreaty, "_do_ letus off this once! Coote really never took the pencil, and if you havehim taken up, it will be ruination! I shall get in a row for comingdown now, but I couldn't help. We'll do anything if you don't takeCoote up. I'll get my father to pay you what you like. Will you, please, Webster?"

The boy delivered this appeal so rapidly and earnestly that Webster hadno time to stop him; but when Dick paused, he said:--

"Make yourself comfortable, Mr Richardson, I've found the pencil. "

Dick literally shouted, as he sprang forward and seized the bookseller'shand:--

"Found it! Oh, what a brick you are!"

"Yes; it had fallen into that hole, and I just turned it out. Lucky foryou and your friend it did. And I'm not sorry, either, for I'd no fancyfor putting any of you to trouble; but I was bound to protect myself, you see. "

"Of course, of course. You're a regular trump, Webster, " cried Dick, too delighted to feel at all critical of the way in which the booksellerwas extricating himself from his dilemma. "I'm so glad; so will theybe. Thanks, awfully, Webster. I say, I must get a _Templeton Observer_for the good of the shop. "

And he flung down a sixpence in the bigness of his heart, and taking thenewspaper, darted back to Templeton in a state of jubilation andhappiness, which made passers-by, as he rushed down the street, turnround and look after him. 

In ten minutes Coote and Heathcote were as radiant as he; and thatafternoon the Templeton "Tub" echoed with the boisterous glee of thethree heroes, as they played leap-frog with one another in the water, and set the rocks almost aglow with the sunshine of their countenances. 

But Nemesis is proverbially a cruel old lady. She sports with hervictims like a cat with a mouse. And just when the poor scared things, having escaped one terrible swoop of her hand, take breath, she comesdown remorselessly with the other hand, and dashes away hope and breathat a blow. 

And so it fared with our unlucky heroes. No sooner had they escaped thefangs of Mr Webster, than they found themselves writhing in theclutches of a new terror, twice as bad and twice as awkward. 

In the first flush of escape, Dick had crammed the _Templeton Observer_, which he had paid sixpence for in celebration of the finding of thepencil, into his pocket, and never given it another thought. During theevening, however, having occasion to search the pocket for another ofits numerous contents, he came upon it, and drew it out. 

"What's that--the _Templeton Observer_?" asked Heathcote, becomingsuddenly serious. "Anything in it?"

"I haven't looked, " said Dick, becoming serious, too, and inwardlyanathematising the public press. 

"May as well, " said Heathcote. 

"Perhaps there'll be something about the All England Tennis Cup in it, "said Coote. 

Dick opened the paper, and his jaw dropped at the first paragraph whichmet his eye. 

"Well, " said Heathcote, reflecting his friend's consternation in his ownlooks, "whatever is it?"

"Has Lawshaw won it, or Renford?" inquired Coote. 

Dick passed the paper to Georgie, who read as follows:--

 *The mysterious disappearance of a Templeton boat*. --The boatman Thomas White was arrested yesterday at Glistow, and will be charged before the magistrates on Saturday with fraudulently pawning the boat _Martha_, knowing the same to be only partially his own property. The case is attracting much interest in the town. No news has yet reached us of the missing boat, but we hear on good authority that circumstances have come to light pointing to White himself as the thief, and we believe evidence to this effect will be offered at Saturday's examination. The police are reticent on the subject. 

"What was the score of sets?" asked Coote, as Heathcote put down thepaper. 

The latter replied by handing the paper to the questioner and pointingto the fatal paragraph. 

Coote read it in great bewilderment. Of course he knew all about TomWhite's row and the missing _Martha_. Every Templeton fellow, fromMansfield down to Gosse, knew it. But why should Dick and Heathcotelook so precious solemn about it?

"By Jove!" said he, "I wish they'd catch the fellow. What's the use ofthe police being reticent?"

"Coote, old man, " said Dick, in a tone which made the youth addressedopen his eyes, "do you know how the _Martha_ got lost?"

"Stolen, " said Coote, "by a fellow who was skulking about on the sands. "

"Wrong. She was turned adrift; someone loosed the anchor rope when thetide was coming in. "

"How do you know that?"

"Because I was the fellow. "

"And I helped, " said Heathcote. 

"My eye! what a regular row!" said Coote. 

Whereupon the "Firm" swore eternal friendship, and resolved to sink orswim together. 

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO. 

THE HERMIT COMES OUT OF HIS CELL. 

Mansfield never flattered himself that Templeton would right itself by asingle turn of his hand, nor did he flatter himself that Templeton wouldever love Jupiter as they had loved the old Saturn who had preceded him. And in neither expectation was he out of his reckoning. 

After a week or two the sole result of the new _regime_ seemed to bethat the bad lot had plunged further into their evil ways. The "SelectSociables" had increased the number of their members to thirty, and madeit an indispensable qualification for every candidate that he shouldhave suffered punishment at the hands of the masters or monitors. Itgot to be known that it was war to the knife, and fellows flocked to thepost of danger and begged to be admitted to the club. 

All this Mansfield saw, but it did not disconcert him. He was glad tosee a clear line being drawn, which made it impossible for any but thepractised hypocrites to hang out false colours and pretend to be whatthey were not. It was half the battle to the Captain to know exactlywho were friends and who were enemies. 

He may sometimes have thought, with a passing sigh, of the affectionwhich everybody, good and bad, had had for dear old Ponty, and wished hecould expect as much. But he dashed the thought aside as folly. Hisduty was to make war on rebels, not to win them over by blandishments. 

So he set his face like steel to the work, and made the name of monitora caution in Templeton. And, it is fair to say, he was well backed up. Cresswell, Cartwright, Swinstead, and others of their sort rallied roundhim, and, at the risk of their own popularity, and sometimes againsttheir better judgment, took up the rule of iron. Even the hermitFreckleton came out of his den now and then on the side of justice. 

The cad Bull, who had neither the wit nor the temper to play a doublepart, threw up his monitorship in disgust and went over to the enemy, carrying with him one or two of the empty heads of the Fifth. Pledgealone looked on the whole revolution as a joke. 

But even Pledge found it hard to make a case against the new rulers;for, if their severity was great, their justice was still greater. Ifthey spared no one else, neither did they spare themselves. There wassomething almost ferociously honest and upright about Mansfield, and hislieutenants soon caught his spirit and made it impossible for anyone, even for Pledge, to point at them and say that either fear or favourmoved them. 

It was probably on this very account that Pledge deemed it well to treatthe new state of things as a comedy, and not with serious attention. 

A monitors' meeting was summoned for the morning after Pledge's call onMr Webster, and he attended it with a pleasant smile on his face, asone who was always glad to come and see how his schoolfellows amusedthemselves. 

The rest of the meeting was grim and serious. 

"It's time we did something to put down this Club, " said Mansfield. "They are drawing in all sorts of fellows now, and the longer we put itoff the worse it will be. "

"What shall we do?" asked Freckleton. 

"I think we ought to be able to do it without going to Winter about it, "said Cresswell. 

"Would it do to start an opposition club?" suggested Swinstead. 

"Or make it penal for any fellow to belong to it, " said Cartwright. 

"Or send a deputation, " said Pledge, laughing, "and ask them please notto put the Sixth in such an awkward fix!"

"You see, " said the captain, ignoring, as he usually did, Pledge'ssarcasms, "whatever we do, some are sure to be irreconcilable. I wouldlike to give any who wish a chance of coming out, and then we shall knowwhat to do with the rest. Does anyone know when they meet?"

"I believe there's a meeting this evening, " said Cartwright; "at least, my fag Coote told me a couple of days ago that he had a particularengagement this evening, and was sorry he couldn't say what it was, forhe'd promised never to speak of the Club to anyone, least of all to amonitor. "

There was a general smile at the expense of the artless Coote, and thenMansfield said:--

"Well, one of us had better go there and give them a caution. Will yougo, Freckleton?"

"I?" exclaimed the Hermit, aghast. 

"Yes, please, old man, " said the Captain; "you'd do it better thananyone. "

"Wouldn't you like me to go?" asked Pledge. 

"There's one other thing I want to speak about, " said Mansfield. "There's been a lot of breaking bounds lately among the juniors. Icaught your fag yesterday, Cresswell, and gave him lines. Your fag too, Pledge, I have seen several times lately going out without leave. "

"Dear me! how shocking!" said Pledge. 

"If monitors don't see that their own fags keep the rules, " saidMansfield, "there's not much chance of getting the school generally tokeep them. In your case, Pledge, I happen to know you yourself gaveHeathcote leave to go out more than once this term. I'm going to put astop to that. "

"Are you really?" said Pledge. 

"Yes, " said Mansfield, flashing with his eyes, but otherwise cool. 

Whereupon the meeting broke up. 

Freckleton had by no means a congenial task before him. 

All this term he had been unable to settle down in his hermit's cell. Mansfield had always been bringing him out for this and that specialduty, till he was becoming quite a public character; and, unfortunatelyfor him, he had done the few services for which he had been told off sowell, that Mansfield had no notion whatever of letting him crawl back toobscurity. 

The Captain knew what he was about in selecting the Hermit to open thecampaign against the "Select Sociables. " A secret lawless society in aschool is like a secret lawless society in a country--a pest to be dealtwith carefully. Mansfield knew well enough that he himself was not theman to do it; nor was the downright Cresswell, nor the hot-headedCartwright. It needed the wisdom of the serpent as well as the paw ofthe lion to do it, and if anyone was likely to succeed, it wasFreckleton. 

For Freckleton, hermit as he was, seemed to know more about every fellowin Templeton than anyone else. Where and when he made theiracquaintance, no one knew and no one inquired. But certain it was noone knew the weak points of this boy and the good points of that betterthan he. And, as we have seen already, he was a "dark" man; hardlyanyone knew him. They knew he had won the Bishop's Scholarship and wasreputed prodigiously learned. For the rest, except that he was harmlessand kindly, fellows hardly seemed to know him at all. The "SelectSociables" were in full congress. They had instituted a fine of a pennyfor non-attendance, which had worked wonders. And to-night every memberwas in his place, except only Heathcote and Coote, who, as the readerknows, had something else to think of just then. 

The behaviour of these two young gentlemen was giving the club someuneasiness. They were not alive to their duties as "Sociables. " Andthey had got into the abominable habit of obeying monitors andassociating with questionable characters, such as Richardson, Aspinall, and the like. 

A motion had just been passed calling upon the two delinquents to appearat the next meeting and answer for their conduct, when the door openedand Freckleton entered. 

"Good evening, gentlemen, " said he. "I'm not sure if I'm a member, butI hope I don't intrude. "

The "Sociables" stared at him, half in anger, half in bewilderment, ashe helped himself to a chair and sat down with his back to the door. 

"The fact is, " said he with a weary look, "I've lived such a retiredlife here, I hardly know where to find fellows I want. I've beenhunting high and low for half a dozen fellows with brains in theirheads, and someone told me if I came here I should find plenty. "

There was a titter not unmingled with a few frowns, as the Hermit spreadhimself comfortably on his chair and looked round him. 

"It's as hard to find a fellow with brains nowadays as it was forDiogenes to find an honest man, once. You know who Diogenes was, don'tyou, Gossy?" added he, turning suddenly on that young bravo. 

Gosse blushed crimson at finding himself so unexpectedly singled out;and faltered out that he had forgotten. 

"Forgotten?" said Freckleton, joining in the general laugh at Gosse'sexpense; "and you knew so well once! Ask Bull; he knows; he's in theSixth, and _very_ clever. Why, Bull (I hope he's not present)--"

Another laugh. For Bull sat in his place the size of life, with hisbloated face almost as red as Gosse's. 

"Bull actually found the Sixth so dull and unintellectual that he leftus, in order to cultivate the acquaintance of Culver, and fellows ofculture and scholarship like him. It was a great loss to us. We'vehardly had an idea in the Sixth since Bull left. "

This double hit greatly delighted the majority of the "Sociables;"scarcely less so than Bull's red cheeks, and the gape with which Culverreceived the reference to himself. 

"You're not wanted here, " Bull exclaimed; "get out!"

"There! Isn't that clever?" said the Hermit, in apparent admiration. "Did ever you hear a sentence so well put together, and so eloquentlydelivered. Why, not even the 'too-too' Wrangham (I hope Wrangham's nothere)--"

Blushing was the order of the day. Wrangham tried hard to lookunconcerned, but as the eyes of the Club turned round in his direction, the tell-tale roses came on his cadaverous cheeks and mounted to hisforehead. 

"The 'too-too' Wrangham, who loves lilies because they are pure, andcalls teapots 'consummate' because--well, I don't exactly know why--hecouldn't have put his one idea so neatly--"

"Look here, Freckleton, " said Spokes, feeling it due to the dignity ofthe Club to put an end to this scene; "this is a private meeting. You've no right to be here. Nobody wants you. "

"Dear me! was that the silvery voice of toffee-loving Spokes?" said theHermit, amid a shout of laughter; for everyone knew Spokes's weak point. "He says 'Look here!' Really I cannot, until a sponge has been passedover the honest face and shorn it of some of its clinging sweetness. But, gentlemen of the 'Select'--'Select' is the word, isn't it?"

"If you don't go out, you'll get chucked out, " said Bull. 

"Oh, wonderful English! wonderful elocution!" said the Hermit. "Ah, itis good to be here. Ah! he comes, he comes!"

It was a critical moment as the burly Bull came down the room. Had hedone so five minutes sooner Freckleton might have found himself single-handed. But already his genial banter had told among the moresusceptible of his hearers, and he could count at any rate on fair play. For the rest, he had little anxiety. 

"Wait a moment, " said he, rising to his feet, and motioning to Bull towait: "Sociables, Bull wants to fight me. Do you want me to fight him?"

"Yes, yes, " shouted every one, delighted at the prospect of a fray, andmany of them quite indifferent as to who conquered. 

"Very well, gentlemen, " said the Hermit; "I will obey you on onecondition, and one only. "

"What is it?" they shouted eagerly. 

"This: that if I beat Bull, you make me your president; or, if you thinkit fairer, if I beat Bull first and then Spokes, you elect me. What doyou say?"

The Hermit was staking high with a vengeance. Little had he dreamed, when he came down to have a little talk with the "Select Sociables, " ofsuch a proposal. It was the sight of Bull walking down the room whichhad furnished the inspiration, and he was daring enough to seize thechance while he had it and risk all upon it. 

In his secret heart he was not absolutely sure of vanquishing hisopponent. For Bull was a noted fighting man, and had made his mark inTempleton. The Hermit had never fought in his life. And yet he knew alittle about boxing. He was strong, cool, and sound of wind; and knewenough of human nature to avoid the least appearance of doubt orhesitation in a crisis like this. 

"What do you say?" asked he. 

"Rather! If you lick, we'll make you president, " shouted the Club. 

"As it is a business matter, " said Freckleton, "and will have to go onthe minutes, wouldn't it be well for someone to propose and second it?"

Whereupon Braider proposed and someone else seconded the proposal, whichwas put to the meeting with due solemnity and carried unanimously. 

"Now, " said the Hermit, slowly divesting himself of his coat when theceremony was concluded, "I'm at your service, Bull. "

There was breathless silence for a moment as all eyes turned on the ex-monitor. 

The blushes had left his cheeks, and a pallor rather whiter than usualwas there in their place. He stood, in a fascinated sort of way, watching Freckleton as he rolled the sleeves up above his elbows anddivested himself of his collar. He had never imagined the "dark man"would face him, still less challenge him thus before the whole Club. 

The coward's heart failed him when the moment came. He didn't like thelook of things. For an instant the crimson rushed back to his face, then, turning his back, he walked away. 

Instantly a storm of hissing and hooting rose from the club, such as hadrarely been heard in the walls of Templeton. None are so indignant atcowards as those who are not quite sure of their own heroism, and Bullfound it out. 

"Do I understand, " said Freckleton, as soon as he could get in a word, "that the Bull declines?"

The Bull made no answer. 

"He funks it. Turn him out!" cried Gosse. 

The Hermit could not prevent a smile. 

"Does anyone second Mr Gosse's motion?"

"I do, " shouted Spokes, amid derisive laughter. 

"Then, " said Freckleton, opening the door, "we needn't detain you, Bull, unless, on second thoughts--"

Bull slunk out, followed by another howl, which drowned the Hermit'swords. When he had gone the latter put on his coat, and, walking up tothe chair, which Spokes had prudently vacated, called the club to orderand said:--

"Gentlemen, --I beg to thank you for appointing me your president. Iknow it will be hard to follow worthily in the footsteps of thegentleman who has just left the room--(groans)--and of the gentleman whohas just vacated this chair, leaving some of his sweetness behind him. (Derisive cheers. ) Still, I would like to do something to help makethis club a credit. I think we might look over the rules and see if wecan get anything in which will keep cowards and cads out of the club. Of course that wouldn't affect any of you, but it would help to keep usmore select for the future. (Cheers. ) In fact, I don't see, gentlemen, why we shouldn't make the club big enough to take in any fellow who, like all of you, hates cowardice, and meanness, and dirtiness, and thatsort of thing. (Cheers, not unmixed with blushes. ) We may not allthink alike about everything, but, if we are all agreed it's good formto be gentlemen, and honest and brave, I don't see why we can't be'Select Sociables' still. We pride ourselves at Templeton on being oneof the crack schools in the country. (Loud cheers. ) Well, any lot offellows who set up for the 'Select' here ought to be the crack of thecrack--like you all, for instance. However, these are only suggestions. Now I'm your president I mean to work hard for the club and do mybest--(cheers)--and I ask you to back me up. (Cheers. ) I think, by wayof a start, we might appoint a committee of, say, half a dozen, to lookinto the rules and see how they can be improved, and how the club can bemade of most use to Templeton. What do you say?"

Cheers greeted the suggestion, and several names were proposed. The sixelected included Spokes and Braider, and it was evident, from the half-nervous, half-gratified manner in which these two undertook their newresponsibilities, that the Hermit had found out the trick of bringingout the good points even of the most unpromising boys. 

The Club separated with cheers for the new president, and scarcely yetrealising the transformation scene which he had made in their midst. Afew, such as Wrangham, skulked off, but the majority took up the neworder of things with ardour, and vied with one another in showing thatthey at any rate were bent on making the Club a credit. 

Freckleton meanwhile retired to report the success of his mission toMansfield. 

"Well, have you got their names and cautioned them?" asked the Captain. 

"I'm very hot and thirsty, " said the Hermit, flinging himself down on achair. 

"Yes, yes; but what about this bad club?"

"Call it not bad, Jupiter, for I am its president. "

"What! you its president!" cried the Captain, taking in the mystery at abound. "You mean to say you've talked them over! By Jove! Freckleton, you ought to be Captain of Templeton. "

"Thank you; I've quite enough to do as president of the 'SelectSociables. '"

And he then proceeded to give a modest history of the evening'sproceedings. 

Mansfield was delighted at every particular. 

"But suppose Bull had fought you, " said he, "where would you be now?"

"Better off, I think, " said the Hermit. "It would have told better if Icould really have knocked him down. However, I fancy it's as well itdidn't come to a brush. "

"But _can_ you box, old man?"

"We must try one fine day. But now about the Club. I want you to helpme draw up a scheme for my committee. "

And the two friends spent the rest of the evening in one of the mostgratifying tasks that ever fell to the lot of two honest seniors. 

A very different conversation was taking place a few studies away, wherePledge found himself alone with his fag for the first time since the boyhad avowed his reconciliation with Dick. 

"Ah, Georgie, I don't see much of you now. My study's badly off fordusting. "

"I'm very sorry, Pledge; I really hadn't time. "

"No? Busy reading the police news, I suppose, and seeing how younggentlemen behave themselves in the dock?"

Heathcote flushed up, though from a very different cause from that whichhis senior suspected. In the new terror about Tom White, the youngsterhad forgotten all about Webster's pencil-case. 

"You're going it, Georgie, " said the monitor; "the inevitable result ofbad company. You'll want me to go bail for you after all. "

"I don't know what you are talking about, " said the boy, with aconfusion that belied the words. 

"Well, I may be able to pull you through it better than you think, though, of course, I'm not such a great gun as Dick. However, what Iwant you for now is to go and post this letter at the head office. "

"Why, it's half-past eight, " said Heathcote. 

"Wonderful! and the post goes at nine!"

"But I mean I shall get in a row for going out. "

"Wonderful again! If anyone asks you, say I told you to go. Lookalive!"

Heathcote took the letter mechanically and went. He was too dazed toargue the matter, and too much disturbed by Pledge's apparent knowledgeof the scrape which was weighing on him and his friends to care to runthe risk of offending him just now. 

As he was creeping across the Quadrangle, a door opened, and Mansfieldconfronted him. 

"Where are you going?"

"To the post. Pledge gave me leave. "

"Go back to your room, " said Mansfield, shutting the door. 

"He's forgotten to give me lines, " said Georgie to himself. "By Jove!I hope he's not going to send me up to Winter!"

To Georgie's surprise, he got neither lines nor a message to go to DrWinter. But, as he was about to retire to rest, he received a summonsfrom the Captain to go and speak with him in his study. 

His sentence was as short as it was astounding "Heathcote, in future youfag for Swinstead, not Pledge. Good-night. "

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE. 

WHICH TREATS OF LAW AND JUSTICE. 

While Pledge was dressing on the following morning, the Captain's fagbrought him a note. 

"There's no answer, " said the junior, tossing it down on the table, anddeparting, whistling. Pledge opened it and read:--

"As you are determined to defy the rules, and make others do the same, Isend this note to say Heathcote is no longer your fag, and that you willhave to do without one for the future. I also wish to say that unlessyou are prepared to abide by school rules, it will save trouble if yousend in your resignation as a monitor at once. --E. M. "

His first impulse on reading this letter was to laugh, and toss thepaper contemptuously into the hearth. But on second thoughts, hisamusement changed to wrath, not quite unmixed with dismay. 

He knew well enough last night, when he sent Heathcote out, that he wasbringing matters between himself and the Captain to an issue. And hehad been too curious to see what Mansfield's next move would be, tocalculate for himself on what it was likely to be. And now he felthimself hit in his weakest point. 

Not that the "Spider" was desperately in love with Heathcote. As longas that volatile youth had owned his allegiance and proved amenable tohis influence, so long had Pledge liked the boy and set store by hiscompanionship. 

But lately Heathcote had been coming out in an unsatisfactory light. 

For no apparent reason he had upset all his patron's calculations, andspoiled all his carefully arranged plans, by going over to Dick andplacing Pledge in the ridiculous position of a worsted rival to thatnoisy young hero. And, as if that were not enough, he had let himselfbe used by the Captain as a means of dealing a further blow. For, whenPledge came to think of it, Heathcote had made prompt use of his newliberty to absent himself from his senior's chamber that very morning. 

He left his study door open, and watched the passage sharply for thedeserter. 

He saw him at last, labouring under a huge pile of books, which he wascarrying to his new lord's study. 

"Ah, Georgie!" cried Pledge, with studied friendliness, "you'll dropthat pile, if you try to carry all at once. Put some down here, andmake two loads of it. So you've been promoted to a new senior?"

"It's not my choice; Mansfield moved me, " said Heathcote, feeling andlooking very uncomfortable. 

"And I fancy I can hear the fervour with which you said, 'God bless you, for saving me from Pledge, Mansfield, ' when he moved you. "

"I said nothing of the sort. I knew nothing about it, I tell you, tillhe told me. "

"Quite a delicious surprise. But you really mustn't be seen here, " saidPledge, with a sneer. "The holy ones will think I am luring you back toperdition. "

"I don't care what they say, " said the boy. 

"Oh, Georgie! How ungrateful! how sinful of you! Go to them. They mayeven be able to tell you how to enjoy yourself in a police cell. "

It was gratifying to the senior to see the gasp with which the boyreceived this random shot. 

"What do you mean?" faltered the latter. 

"Really, hadn't you better ask Swinstead? He's your protector now. Ihave no business to interfere. "

"Do tell me what you mean?" said the boy, imploringly. 

But just at that moment a step sounded in the passage outside, andMansfield entered the study. 

Heathcote promptly vanished, and Pledge, face to face with hisantagonist, had something else to think about than Mr Webster's pencil. The Captain, who had great faith in striking the iron while it is hot, had come down on the heels of his letter, determined that if anyunderstanding was to be come to between him and Pledge, it should become to promptly. 

"You've had my note?" said he. 

"Really, Mansfield, " began Pledge, "I've no doubt it's an honour toreceive a call from the Captain, but you seem to forget this is mystudy, not your's. "

"You sent Heathcote out last night on purpose, " said Mansfield, ignoringthe protest, "and what I want to know now is whether you are going toresign your monitorship or not?"

Pledge's eyes blazed out as he met the Captain's determined face andcool eyes. 

"You don't seem to have heard what I said?" he replied. 

"I heard every word, and you heard my question?" answered the Captain. 

"And suppose I don't choose to answer your question?"

"Then I'll answer it for you. If you choose to resign, you may. If youdon't--"

"Well?"

"You cease to be a monitor, all the same. "

"Who says so?" asked Pledge, sharply, and with pale lips. 

"I say so, as Captain here, " said Mansfield, coolly. 

"You! You're not Templeton. You may be a great man in your own eyes, but you're only a schoolboy after all. I always understood Dr Winterwas head master here, and not the boy Mansfield. "

"You prefer to appeal to Winter, then?"

"Dear me, no! Dr Winter is so well drilled into what he has to say anddo here, that it would be a pity to put him to unnecessary trouble. "

"You can do as you like, " said the Captain, drily. "There's to be amonitors' meeting at twelve. If you like to come and resign, do so; orif you like to come and hear your name taken off the list, you can. "

And Mansfield turned on his heel, and went Pledge did not often fly intoa passion; but as he locked his door, and heard the Captain's stepsretreating down the passage, he gave vent to a fit of uncontrolled fury. 

He was a coward. He knew it. He knew he dared not meet the enemy faceto face, and fight for his good name in Templeton. He knew everyonehated him--everyone except, perhaps, Heathcote. And Heathcote wasdrifting from him, too. Should he appeal to Winter? He dared not. Should he let himself be expelled from the monitorship? If he couldhave counted on any one who would feel an atom of regret at the step, hemight have faced it. But there was no one. Should he resign? and sorelieve the monitors of their difficulty, and own himself beaten? Therewas nothing else to do. Of the three alternatives it was the leastdangerous. So he sat down and wrote:--

"Dear Mansfield, --As you appear to have set your mind upon my resigningmy monitorship, and as I am always anxious to oblige the disinterestedwishes of those who beg as a favour for what they know would comewithout asking, I take the opportunity to carry out what I have longcontemplated, and beg to resign a post of which I have never been proud. At the same time I must ask you to accept my resignation from theFootball Club, and the Harriers. --Yours truly, P. Pledge. "

It was a paltry letter, and Pledge knew it. But he could not helpwriting it, and only wished the words would show half the venom in whichhis thoughts were steeped. The sentence about the Football Club and theHarriers was a sudden inspiration. Templeton should have something toregret in the loss of him. He knew they would find it hard to fill hisplace in the fields, however easily they might do without him in school. 

Mansfield read the letter contemptuously, as did all the monitors whohad the real good of Templeton at heart. A few pulled long faces, andwondered how the Fifteen was to get on without its best halfback; butaltogether the Sixth breathed more freely for what had been done andwere glad Mansfield had taken upon himself a task which no one elsewould have cared to undertake. 

Meanwhile, our three heroes were spending an agitated Saturday half-holiday. 

For Dick had decided two days ago that his "Firm" would have to lookafter Tom White. 

"You know, you fellows, " said he, "we're not exactly in it as far as hispawning the boat goes, but then if we hadn't lost her, the row wouldhave never come on. "

"And if he hadn't robbed us, we should never have interfered with theboat. "

"And if we hadn't gone to the Grandcourt match, " said Dick, who was fondof tracing events to their source, "he wouldn't have robbed us. "

Whereat they left the pedigree of Tom White's "row" alone, and turned tomore practical business. 

"What can we do?" said Georgie. "We can't get him off. "

"We're bound to back him up, though, aren't we?"

"Oh, I suppose so, if we only knew how. "

"Well, it strikes me we ought to turn up at the police court to-morrow, and see how things go, " said Dick. 

The "Firm" adopted the motion. The next day was a half-holiday; and apolice court is always attractive to infant minds. And the presence ofa real excuse for attending made the expedition an absolute necessity. 

As soon as Saturday school was over, therefore, and at the very timewhen the Sixth were considering Pledge's "resignation, " our threeheroes, having taken a good lunch, and armed themselves each with atowel, in case there might be time for a "Tub" on the way back, salliedforth arm-in-arm to back up Tom White. 

They found, rather to their disgust, on reaching the police court, thatthey were not the only Templetonians who had been attracted by theprospect of seeing the honest mariner at the bar. Raggles and Duffieldwere there before them, waiting for the public door to open, and greetedthem hilariously. 

"What cheer?" cried Raggles. "Here's a go! Squash up, and we shall bagthe front pew. Duff's got five-penn'orth of chocolate creams, so weshall be awfully snug. "

This last announcement somewhat mollified the "Firm, " who made upaffectionately to Duffield's. "Old Tom will get six months, " saidDuffield, as soon as his bag of creams had completed its first circuit. "Rough on him, ain't it?"

"I don't know. I say, it'll be rather a game if it turns out he stolehis own boat, won't it? Case of picking your own pocket, eh?"

"I don't know, " said Dick. "I don't think he did steal it. But even ifhe did, you see it didn't belong to him. "

"It's a frightful jumble altogether, " said Georgie. "I think law's abeastly thing. If the pawnbroker chooses to _give_ money on the boat--"

"Oh, it's not the pawnbroker--it's the fellows the boat belonged to. "

"But, I tell you, Tom's one of the fellows himself. "

"Well, it's the other fellows. "

"We may as well have another go of chocolates now, in case they getsquashed up going in, " suggested Coote, who avoided the legal aspect ofthe case. 

The door opened at last, and our heroes, some of whom knew the ways ofthe place, made a stampede over the forms and through the witness-boxinto the front seat reserved for the use of the public, where theyspread themselves out luxuriously, and celebrated their achievement by afurther tax on the friendly Duffield's creams. 

The court rapidly filled. The interest which Tom White's case hadevoked had grown into positive excitement since his arrest, and ourheroes had reason to congratulate themselves on their punctuality asthey saw the crowded forms behind them and the jostling group at thedoor. 

"There's Webster at the back; shall you nod to him?" asked Heathcote. 

"Yes--better, " said Dick, speaking for the "Firm. "

Whereupon all three turned their backs on the bench and nodded cheerilyto Mr Webster, who never saw them, so busy was he in edging his way toa seat. 

Having discharged this public duty our heroes resumed their seats justin time to witness the arrival of the usher of the court, followed by aman in a wig, and a couple of reporters. 

"It's getting hot, I say, " said Dick, speaking more of his emotions thanof the state of the atmosphere. 

It got hotter rapidly; for two of the Templeton police appeared on thescene and looked hard at the front public bench. Then the solicitors'seats filled up, and the magistrates' clerk bustled in to his table. And before these alarming arrivals had well brought the perspiration toour heroes' brows, the appearance of two magistrates on the bench sentup the temperature to tropical. 

"Order in the court!" cried the usher. 

Whereupon Duffield, in his excitement, dropped a chocolate on the floorand turned pale as if expecting immediate sentence of death. 

However, the worst was now over. And when it appeared that the twomagistrates were bluff, good-humoured squires, who seemed to have noparticular spite against anybody, and believed everything the clerk toldthem, the spirits of our heroes revived wonderfully, and Duffield's bagtravelled briskly in consequence. 

To the relief of the "Firm, " the first case was not Tom White's. It wasthat of a vagrant who was charged with the heinous crimes of begging andbeing unable to give an account of herself. The active and intelligentpolice gave their evidence beautifully, and displayed an amount ofshrewdness and heroism in the taking up of this wretched outcast whichmade every one wonder they were allowed to waste their talents in sohumble a sphere as Templeton. 

The magistrates put their heads together for a few seconds, and thensummoned the clerk to put his head up, too, and the result of theconsultation was that the poor creature was ordered to be taken in atthe Union and cared for. 

Duffield's bag was getting very light by the time this humane decisionwas come to. Only one round was left, and that was deferred by mutualconsent when the clerk called out "Thomas White!"

Our heroes sat up in their seats and fixed their eyes on the dock. 

In a moment Tom White, as rollicking as ever, but unusually sober, stoodin it, and gazed round the place in a half-dazed way. 

As his eyes came down to the front public bench, our heroes' cheeksflushed and their eyes looked straight in front of them. 

Duffield and Raggles, on the contrary, being the victims of no pangs ofconscience, after looking hurriedly round to see that neither themagistrates, the police, nor the usher observed them, winked recognitionat their old servant in distress. 

This was too much for Dick. These two fellows who weren't "in it" atall were backing Tom up in public, whereas his "Firm, " who were in it, and had come down for the express purpose of looking after the prisoner, were doing nothing. "Better nod, " he whispered. 

And the "Firm" nodded, shyly but distinctly. 

Tom White was not the sort of gentleman to cut his friends on anoccasion like this, and he, seeing himself thus noticed, andrecognising, in a vague sort of way, his patrons, favoured the frontpublic bench with five very pronounced nods, greatly to theembarrassment of the young gentlemen there, and vastly to theindignation of the police and officials of the court. 

"Order there, or the court will be cleared!" cried the clerk, in a toneof outraged propriety; "How dare you?"

Our heroes, not being in a position to answer the question by reason oftheir tongues being glued to the roofs of their mouths, remained silent, and tried as best they could to appear absorbed in the shape of theirown boots. 

"If such a thing occurs again, " persisted the clerk, "their worshipswill take very serious notice of it. "

"Their worships, " who had not a ghost of an idea what the clerk wastalking about, said "very serious, " and asked that the case mightproceed. 

It proceeded, and under its cover our agitated heroes gradually raisedtheir countenances from their boots, and felt their hearts, which hadjust now stood still, beating once more in their honest bosoms. 

For any one not personally interested, the case was prosy enough. 

A solicitor got up and said he appeared for Tom's three partners, whocharged him with pledging the _Martha_ and appropriating the money, whereas the _Martha_ belonged to the four of them, and Tom had no rightto raise money on her except by mutual consent. 

The three partners and the pawnbroker were put into the witness-box, andgave their evidence in a lame sort of way. 

Tom was invited to ask any questions he desired of the witnesses, andsaid "Thank'ee, sir, " to each offer. He had nothing that he "knowed ofto ask them. He was an unfortunate labouring man that had lost hisliving, and he hoped gentlemen would remember him. "

He accompanied this last appeal with a knowing look and grin at theoccupants of the front public bench, who immediately blushed like turkeycocks, and again dropped their heads towards their boots. 

"Have you anything to say about the disappearance of the boat?" said theclerk, shuffling his notes. 

"Only, your worship, " said the solicitor, "that on the 4th of June lastthe _Martha_ disappeared from her berth on the beach, and, as Whitedisappeared at the same time and refuses to give an account of himselfat that particular time, the prosecutors are convinced he removed theboat himself. "

In support of this very vague charge a policeman was called, who gave agraphic account of the beauties of the moonlight on the night inquestion, and of how he had seen, from his beat on the Parade, a figuremove stealthily across the sands to the place where White's boat wassupposed to be. He couldn't quite, swear that the figure was White orthat the boat was the _Martha_ but he didn't know who either could be ifthey were not. The figure might have been a boy, but, as he was aquarter of a mile off, he couldn't say. He never left his beat till onein the morning. By that time the tide was in. He didn't actually seeTom White row off in the _Martha_ but neither of them was to be seen inTempleton next day. 

After this piece of conclusive evidence the public looked at one anotherand shook their heads, and thought what wonderful men the Templetonpolice were for finding out things. 

"Have you any questions to ask the witness?" demanded the clerk of Tom. 

"Thank'ee, no, sir; it's all one to me, " said Tom. "Bless yer! I neverknows nothing about it till a young gentleman says to me, 'They're afteryou, ' says he; 'scuttle off. ' So I scuttled off. Bless you, sir, Ididn't know I was doing harm. "

Under this thunderbolt Dick almost collapsed. Fortunately, Tom's shortmemory kept him from recognising him in the matter any more than theother occupants of the seat. He nodded generally to the young gentlemenas a body--a most compromising nod, and one which included all five init meaning. 

One of the magistrates who saw it looked up and asked genially:--

"You don't mean to say it was one of those young gentlemen, prisoner?"

"Bless you, sir, likely as not. They young gentlemen, sir, always sparea trifle for a honest--"

"Yes, yes; we don't want all that! If you have no more questions to askthe constable, the constable may stand down. "

The constable stood down, and a brief consultation again ensued betweenthe Bench and the clerk which Dick, firmly believing that it referred tohim, watched with terrible interest. 

"Yes, " said the magistrate, looking up, "we remand the case for a week. "

Dick breathed again. The storm had blown over after all. Not only hadhe himself escaped punishment for conspiring against the ends ofjustice, but Tom White had still another week during which somethingmight turn up. 

The court emptied rapidly as the case ended. 

"Rather hot! wasn't it?" said Duffield, as the five found themselvesoutside, solacing themselves with the last "go" of the creams. 

"Awful!" said the "Firm" from the bottom of their hearts, and feelingthat many afternoons like this would materially shorten their days. 

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR. 

HOW OUR HEROES TURN THEIR ATTENTION TO THE CHASE. 

During the few days which followed their gallant but unsuccessfulattempt to "back up" Tom White, the "Firm" found plenty to think aboutnearer home. 

The rumour of the revolution in the "Select Sociables" spread rapidlyover Templeton, and Freckleton was almost mobbed more than once by hisnew admirers. However, he kept his head, and steered his new shipcraftily and carefully. By appealing to the patriotism and honour ofhis "Sociables, " he succeeded in getting the rules so amended andpurified, that in a few days, instead of being a select Club of theworst characters in Templeton, its constitution was open enough to admitany boy who in any way proved himself a credit to the school. 

A still more important step was the voluntary disbanding of the old Clubfor the purpose of placing the new rules before a meeting of the wholeschool. This was not an easy thing to accomplish, for the old membersknew, most of them, that their qualifications were the reverse of thosewhich would make them eligible for membership according to the newrules. They therefore clung tenaciously to their hold, and it was notuntil Freckleton compromised the matter by promising to hold themeligible for election to the new Club, and exempt them from theconditions other fellows would have to fulfil to become eligible, thatthey finally gave way. 

It was a great day when, by virtue of a personal invitation to each boyin the Hermit's name, Templeton met together in the Great Hall to putthe new Club on its feet. 

It was remarked at this meeting that the Sixth took their places asordinary Templetonians in the body of the hall, and not on the dais, andthat the Den, which usually herded together at the lower end, wasdistributed here and there impartially. 

In fact, everyone was equal to-day, and the very knowledge of the factseemed to put dignity and order into the assembly. 

After rather an awkward pause, during which it seemed doubtful how thebusiness ought to begin, Freckleton stepped up on to the platform. Hisappearance was greeted by cheers, which, however, he immediatelyextinguished. 

"I think, " said he, quietly, "as this is quite a private meeting, youwill all see cheering is hardly the thing. Suppose we do without it. It is very good of you fellows to come here in such numbers, and I onlyhope you'll not hesitate to say what you think about the proposal I amgoing to make--for the question is one which the whole school ought todecide, and not any one particular clique or set among us. (Hear, hear. ) You, all of you, know I believe, what the object of the meetingis. Up till quite recently we had a Club in Templeton which rejoiced inthe name of the 'Select Sociables. ' (Laughter. ) It wasn't a publicClub--(laughter)--but most of the school, I fancy, had heard of itsexistence. (Laughter. ) Gentlemen laugh, but I assure them I am tellingthe truth, and have good reason to know what I am talking about, as Ihappened to be the president of the 'Select Sociables. ' (Hear, hear. )We found the Club wasn't altogether flourishing. (Laughter. ) Some ofthe rules wanted looking to, and a few of the members were not exactlythe best specimens of Templeton form. (Loud laughter. ) Gentlemen thinkthere was a joke in that, I suppose. I didn't see it myself. We putour heads together to see how the Club could be improved, and I am boundto say the old members came forward most patriotically and gave up theirundoubted rights, in order to make the Club a thoroughly Templetonaffair. "

Cheers were raised here for the old "Sociables, " who never felt sovirtuous in all their lives. 

"Now you want to hear what our proposal is. You'll understand it bestif I read the rough rules which the committee has drawn up:--"

1. That the Club be called the "Select Sociables. "

2. That the number of members be limited to thirty. 

3. That not more than six members be chosen from any one Form. 

"This is to prevent the Club getting crowded out with Sixth-formfellows--(loud cheers from the juniors)--or fellows from the JuniorThird. (Laughter from the seniors. ) It will insure each form gettingrepresented on it by half a dozen of its best men. "

4. That all Templetonians are eligible who have either--

(_a_) Gained any prize or promotion in the school examinations. 

(_b_) Played in any of the school-house matches, senior or junior. (Cheers. )

(_c_) Won any event at the school sports. 

(_d_) Run through any hunt with the Harriers. (Cheers. )

(_e_) Swum round the Black Buoy. (Loud cheers. )

(_f_) Done anything which, in the opinion of the school, has been forthe good of Templeton. 

5. That all elections take place by ballot. 

6. That the first thirty members be elected by ballot by the wholeschool, and future vacancies be filled up by the Club. 

7. That all the original members of the old Club shall be consideredeligible for election whether they have complied with any of theconditions named or not. (Laughter and blushes. )

8. That if there are less than six fellows eligible in any Form, thenumber may be filled up from eligible candidates in the Form below. 

"There, that's--roughly speaking--how it is proposed the new Club shouldbe formed. "

"We should like to know, " said Cresswell, rising, "what the Club willdo, when it will meet, and so on?"

"Well, " said Freckleton, "we thought we could get leave to use thelibrary every evening; and, being a Sociable Club we should try toafford to take in a few of the illustrated and other papers, and managesupper together now and then, and make ourselves as comfortable aspossible, "--(laughter and cheers, especially from the youngsters). "Ifwe got talent enough in the Club, we might give the school a concert ora dramatic performance now and then, or, in the summer, try our hand ata picnic or a fishing cruise. If Cresswell gets elected himself--andhe'd better not be too sure--he'll find out that the 'Sociables' willhave a very good idea of making themselves snug. " (Laughter. )

"Is there to be any entrance-fee or subscription?" asked Birket. "Wethink fellows might be asked to subscribe half-a-crown a term. It's notvery much; and as the juniors usually have twice as much spare cash aswe seniors, we don't think they will shy at the Club for that, "--(loudcheers and laughter from the juniors). 

"There's just one other thing, by the way, " continued the Hermit. "It'sonly, perhaps, to be talking about turning fellows out of the Club, butwe think we ought to protect ourselves by some rule which will make anymember of the Club who does anything low or discreditable to Templetonliable to be politely requested to retire. I don't mean mere monitors'rows, of course. Fellows aren't obliged to get into them, though theydo. But I don't think we ought to be too stiff, and turn a fellow outbecause he happens to get a hundred lines from Cartwright, for climbingone of the elms. (Laughter, and 'hear, hear, ' from Cartwright. ) He'sno business to climb elms, and it's quite right to give him lines forit. But as long as he doesn't do that sort of thing systematically, indefiance of rules, then, I say, let him find some place other than theclub-room, to do his lines in--(hear, hear). The fellows the Club willwant to protect itself against are the cads and sneaks and cheats, whomay be knowing enough to keep square with the monitors, but are neitherSelect nor Sociable enough for a Club like ours. There, I never madesuch a long speech in all my life; I'm quite ashamed of myself. "

Templeton forgot its good manners, and cheered loudly at this point. 

There was something about the genial, unassuming, straightforward Hermitwhich touched the fellows on their soft side, and made them accept himwith pride as a representative of the truest Templeton spirit. Theymight not, perhaps, love him as fondly as they loved dear old lazyPonty, but there was not one fellow who did not admire and respect him, or covet his good opinion. 

As soon as silence was obtained, Mansfield rose. 

It was a self-denying thing to do, and the Captain knew it. There wasvery little affection in the silence which fell on the room. He hadgiven up, long since, expecting it. It said much for him that itsabsence neither soured nor embittered him. It made him unhappy, but hekept that to himself, and let it influence him not a whit in the path ofduty he had set before him--a path from which not even the hatred ofTempleton would have driven him. 

"I'm sure we are all very grateful to Freckleton, " he said. "It will bean honour to anyone to get into the Club, and for those who don't get onat first, it will be something to look forward to and work for. I don'tthink a better set of rules could have been drawn up. It will be athoroughly representative Club of all that is good in Templeton. Itdoesn't favour any one set of fellows more than another. Fellows whoare good at work, and fellows who are good at sports have all an equalchance. The only sort of fellows it doesn't favour are the louts andthe cads, and the less they are favoured anywhere in Templeton thebetter. It's a shame to trouble Freckleton with more questions, butsome of us would like to know when the ballot for the new Club is totake place, and how he proposes we should vote?"

There was a faint cheer as the Captain sat down. Templeton, whateverits likes and dislikes were, always appreciated generosity. And theCaptain's honest, ungrudging approval of a comrade who had alreadydistanced him in the hold he exercised over Templeton, pleased them, andtold in the speaker's favour. 

"I think the best way would be, " said Freckleton, "for every fellow tomake a list of the thirty fellows he thinks most eligible, between nowand to-day week. If he can't think of thirty, then let him put down allhe can, remembering that there are not to be more than six in any form. To-day week we'll have the ballot, and fellows will drop their listsinto the box, and the highest thirty will be elected. "

"Hadn't we better have a list posted up somewhere of the names offellows in each form who are eligible?" asked someone. 

"Certainly. I'll have one up to-morrow, and if there are anycorrections and additions to make, there will be time to make them, andget out a final list two days before the election. "

Among the crowd which jostled in front of the list on the library door, next day, might have been seen the eager and disconsolate faces of ourthree heroes. 

Alas! not one of their names was there! Everybody else's seemed to bethere but their's. Aspinall's was there, of course, for Aspinall hadwon his remove with honour last term. Raggles was there, for Raggleshad played in the junior tennis fours of Westover's against the rivalhouses. Spokes was there, for Spokes had swum round the Black Buoy, andbecome a "shark. " Even Gosse was there, for Gosse had "walked over" forthe high jumps for boys under 4 foot, 6 inches, last sports. 

Dick gulped down something like a groan, as he strained his eyes up anddown the cruel list, in the vague hope of finding his name in somecorner, however humble. 

But no. He turned away at last, with his two disconsolate friends, feeling more humiliated than he had ever felt in his life. 

He had done nothing for Templeton--he, who had passed for a leader amonghis compeers, and for a hero among his inferiors!

His record was absolutely empty. In school he had failed miserably; outof school he had shirked sports in which he ought easily to haveexcelled and "rotted" when he might have been doing good execution forTempleton. He scoured his memory to think of anything that might savourof credit. There was the New Boys' Race. He had won that, but that wasall, and it didn't count. He had thrashed Culver and been patted on theback for it, but that hadn't got him on to the list. 

And, except for these two exploits, what good had he done? Nay, hadn'the done harm instead of good? He had dragged Heathcote after him, andHeathcote and he had dragged Coote; and here they were all left out inthe cold. 

Dick remembered the Ghost's letter, and could have kicked himself forbeing so slow to take its advice. 

"We're out of it, " said Georgie, dismally, as the three walked down theshady side of the fields. "I did think we might have scraped insomehow. "

"Whatever could you have scraped in for?" asked Dick sharply. "Hadn'tyou better give in we've been a pack of fools at once?"

"So we have, " said Coote. "I'd have liked awfully to get in the Club. How stunning the picnics would be!"

"Young ass!" said Dick, "the grub's all you think about. Even if yougot on the list, it doesn't follow you'd be elected. "

"It would be something, though, to get on the list, " said Georgie. "Itmakes a fellow feel so small to be out of it. Think of that howlingyoung Gosse being on!"

"Yes, and Raggles!" said Coote. 

"Look here, I say, " exclaimed Dick, suddenly stopping short in his walk, his face lighting up with the brilliancy of the inspiration, "what asseswe are! There's the first Harrier hunt of the season to-morrow. Ofcourse, we'll go and run through!"

Heathcote whistled. 

"They sometimes run a twelve-miler, " said he. 

"Never mind if they run twelve hundred, " said Dick. "We're bound to bein it, I tell you; it's our only chance. "

"Birket told me hardly anyone ever runs in it below the Upper Fourth. "

"Can't help that, " said Dick, decisively; "there's nothing to preventus. "

"Oh, of course not, " said Heathcote, who inwardly reflected that therewas nothing to prevent their jumping over the moon if they only could. 

"You're game, then?"

"All right, " replied the two pliable ones. 

"Hurrah! You know, we may not keep close up all the way, but if we canonly run it through it's all right. By Jove! I am glad I thought ofit, aren't you?"

"Awfully, " they said. 

Templeton opened its eyes that evening when it saw the "Firm" solemnlygo to bed at half-past seven. 

It wasn't their usual practice to shorten their days in this manner, andit was evident this early retirement meant something. 

Speculation was set at rest next morning when, immediately after morningschool, they appeared in their knickerbockers and running shoes and bareshins. 

"Hullo!" said Cresswell, who was the first to encounter them in thistrim, "are you youngsters going to have a little run of your own?"

Cresswell was in running costume, too--a model whipper-in--determined todo his part in the long afternoon's work which he had cut out forhimself and his Harriers. 

"We're going to run in the big hunt, " said Dick, modestly. 

"What!" said the senior, laughing; "do you know what the run is?"

"About twelve-miles, isn't it?" said Coote, glad to air his knowledge. 

"Yes. I'm afraid it will be hardly worth your while to take such ashort trot, " said Cresswell, with a grin. 

"We're going to try, " said Dick, resolutely. "Who are the hares, Cresswell?"

"Swinstead and Birket; good hares, too. But, I say, youngsters, you'dbetter not make asses of yourselves. If you like to come the first mileor two, all right, but take my advice and turn back before you're toofar from home. "

"We're going to run it through, " said Dick, "if we possibly can. "

"We want to get on the Sociables' list, " blurted out the confidingCoote; "that's why. "

Dick and Heathcote blushed up guiltily, and rushed their indiscreet chumoff before he had time to unbosom himself further. 

Cresswell, with the grin still on his honest face, turned intoFreckleton's study. 

"By Jove! old man, " said he, "you'll have a lot to answer for, the rateyou're going on. There are three youngsters--my fag Dick and his twochums--going to run this hunt through, because their names are not onyour precious list. They'll kill themselves. "

"Hurrah!" cried the Hermit. "I'm delighted--not, of course, about thekilling, but I like spirit. I hope they'll scramble through. Mark myword, Cress. , those three partners will make their mark in Templetonyet. "

"They're likely to make their mark at a coroner's inquest, " saidCresswell. "Did _you_ ever run in a twelve-mile hunt?"

"No, thank you, " said the Hermit. "Well, I only hope they'll cool downbefore they go too far, that's all, " said the whipper-in. "They don'tknow what they're in for. "

"They're in for the 'Sociables, ' and more power to them, say I, " saidthe Hermit. When Cresswell arrived at the meet, he found our heroes thecentres of attraction to the crowd who usually assembled to see thehounds "throw off. "

They bore their honours meekly, and affected an indifference they werefar from feeling to the chaff and expostulations which showered uponthem from all sides. 

"All show off!" cried Gosse. "They'll sit down and have a nap under thefirst hedge, and make believe they ran it through. "

"Come, youngsters, " said Cartwright, "you've had a jolly little game. Better go home and put on your trousers, and not try to be funny for toolong together. "

"Is it true, " said someone else, with a significant jerk of his head inthe direction of the "Firm, " "that the hares are going to make a twenty-mile run of it, instead of twelve?"

"Of course we go through Turner's field, where the mad bulls are?" saidanother. 

Our heroes began to think the delay in starting was getting to becriminal. Everyone had turned up long ago. Whatever was keeping thehunt from beginning?

Ah! there was Cresswell calling up the hares at last. Thank goodness!

Swinstead and Birket, _par nobile fratrum_, were old stagers in theTempleton hunts, and fellows knew, when they buckled on their scent bagsand tied their handkerchiefs round their waists, that the Harriers wouldhave their work cut out for them before the day was over. 

"All ready?" asked the whipper-in, taking out his watch. 

"All serene!"

"Off you go then!"

And off went the hares at a long easy swing, out of the fields and up onto the breezy downs. 

"Now then, Harriers, peel!" said the whipper-in, when the hares haddisappeared from view, and his watch showed seven minutes to haveelapsed. 

Our heroes nervously obeyed the order, and confided their outer vestureto Aspinall's custody. 

Then steeling their ears and hearts to the final sparks of chaff whichgreeted the action, they moved forward with the other hounds and waitedCresswell's signal to go. 

It seemed ages before those three minutes crawled out. But at last thewhipper-in put his watch back, and blew a blast on his bugle. 

"Forward!" shouted everybody. 

And the hunt was begun. 

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE. 

HOW OUR HEROES MAKE THEIR RECORD. 

If I were a poet, I should, at this point, pause to invoke Diana, Apollo, Adonis, and the other deities who preside over the chase, to aidme in describing the famous and never-to-be-forgotten run of theTempleton Harriers that early autumn afternoon. How they broke in fullcry out of the fields up on to the free downs. How, with the fresh seascent in their faces, they scoured the ridge that links Templeton withBlackarch, and Blackarch with Topping. How at the third mile they criedoff inland, and plunged into the valley by Waly's bottom and Bardie'sfarm, through the pleasant village of Steg, over the railway, and alongthe fringe of Swilford Wood, to the open heath beyond. How half thehunt was out of it before they went up the other side of the valley, andscattered the gravel on the top of Welkin Beacon. How those who wereleft dropped thence suddenly on Lowhouse, and swam the Gurgle a mileabove the ford. How from Lowhouse they swerved eastward, and caught therailway again at Norton Cutting. How they lost the scent in DurdonCopse, but found it again where the wood and the gravel pits met. Howthe six who stayed in blistered their feet after that on the gritty highroad, till Cresswell hallooed them over the hedge, and showed them thescent down the winding banks of the Babrook. And once again, how theydived into the queer hamlet of Little Maddick, and saw the very loaf andround of cheese off which the hares had snatched a hasty meal not fiveminutes before. How Mansfield and Cresswell made a vow to taste neithermeat nor drink till they had run their quarry down; and how the ever-diminishing pack sighted the hares just out of Maddick, going up theBengle Hill. Over Bengle Hill, down into the valley beyond, and up theshoulder of Blackarch ridge, how they toiled and struggled, till oncemore the sea burst on to their view, and the salt breezes put new lifeinto their panting frames. How along the ridge and down towards GreyHarbour the leaders gained on the hares, hand-over-hand. And how, atlast, in that final burst along the hard, dry sand, the hares werecaught gloriously, half a mile from home, after one of the fastest runsTempleton had ever recorded. 

But my muse must curb her wings, and descend from poetry to prose, inorder to narrate the particular adventures of our three modest heroes. 

For the first half-mile, be it said to their glory, they led the hunt. 

Being convinced that their only hope was to get a good start, and shakeoff the field from the very beginning, they dashed to the front onCresswell's cry of "Forward!" at the rate of ten miles an hour, and forfive minutes showed Templeton the way. 

Then occurred one of those lamentable disasters which so often befallyouthful runners on the exhaustion of their first wind: Coote's shoe-lace came undone! That was the sole reason for his pulling up. To saythat he was blown, or that the pace was hard on him was adding insult tocalamity; and doubtless the redness of his countenance as he knelt downto make fast the truant lace was solely due to indignation at thepossibility of such a suggestion. 

Dick and Heathcote, as they stood one on each side of him, reallythankful for the pause, professed to be highly impatient at the delay. 

"Come on, " said Dick, "here they all come. "

"What a brutal time you take to do up that beastly lace!" cried Georgie, "we might have been in the next field by this time. "

"I think it will hold now, " said Coote, rising slowly to his feet, asthe pack came up in full cry. 

"Blown already, youngsters?" asked Cresswell. "Better go home. "

"We're not blown at all, " said Dick, trotting on abreast of the whipper-in; "Coote's lace came undone, that was all. "

"Yes; we should have been in the next field if it hadn't, " said theowner of the luckless lace. 

The Harriers smiled, and for a minute or two the pack swung in an evenline across the field. 

Then Coote, anxious not to crowd anyone, let half a dozen or so of theFifth go in front; and Dick and Georgie, generously considering that itwould be rather low to leave their short-winded comrade in the lurch, dropped behind the leading rank in order to be nearer him. 

In a minute more all anxiety Coote may have felt as to crowding any onewas at an end. He was a yard or two in the rear of the last man, with astitch in his side, beginning in his inmost soul to wonder whether thenew "Sociables" Club was such a very good thing after all. 

Dick and Georgie, as they gradually sacrificed their prospect of beingin at the death, and fell back to the support of their ally, waxed verycontemptuous of stitch in a fellow's side. They knew what it meant. Itwas a pity Coote had started if he was liable to that sort of thing. His stitch had cost the "Firm" a whole field already. However, theywere not selfish; they must back him up even if it meant coming in atthe tail of the hunt; though, to be sure, the pace Mansfield, Cresswell, and a few others were going at was one which couldn't be kept up, andthe "Firm, " as soon as the stitch was out, might be in the running afterall. 

By dint of persuasions, threats, and imputations, Coote's stitch didcome out; but before it was gone the last of the pack were seen goingover the ridge. 

"We're out of it, " said Georgie, despondently. 

"Not a bit of it, " said Dick, who was getting his second wind and feltlike holding on. "We're bound to pull up on them if Coote only keepsup. "

So they held on gallantly. 

They could not long keep up the fiction of being in the hunt. No amountof self-deception could persuade them, when the end of the stragglingline of fellows going up the ridge was a clear half-mile ahead, thatthey were in it. Still every minute they held on they felt more likestaying, and when they reflected that it was possible to run through thehunt without being in at the death, they took comfort, and determinedTempleton should not say they had turned tail. 

"We shall have to follow the scent now, " said Dick, when the packsuddenly disappeared to view over the ridge. "Thank goodness, it's allwhite paper, and plenty of it. Come on, you fellows, we'll run itthrough yet. "

"I feel quite fresh, " said Coote, mopping his head with hishandkerchief. "How far do you think we've gone--six miles?"

"Six! we've not done a mile and a half yet. "

Coote put away his handkerchief, and gave the buckle of his runningdrawers a hitch; and the "Firm" settled down to business. 

Having once found out their pace, and got their second wind, they feltcomparatively comfortable. The scent lay true up the ridge, and as theyrose foot by foot, and presently breasted the bluff nor'-wester, theyfelt like keeping it up for a week. 

"Hullo, I say, " cried Georgie, when the top of the ridge was gained, "there they go right under us; we might almost catch them by a shortcut. "

"Can't do it, " said Dick, decisively. "We're bound to follow the scent, even if the hares doubled and came back across this very place. "

"Would real harriers do that?" asked Coote. "If I was a real harrier, and saw the hare close to me, I'd go for him no matter what the scentwas. "

"All very well, you can't do it to-day--not if you want to get on thelist, " said Dick. "They've taken a sharp turn, though, at the bottom. "

Trotting down a steep hill is not one of the joys of the chase, and ourheroes, by the time they got to the level bottom, felt as bruised andshaken as if they had been in a railway accident. 

However, a mile on the flat pulled them together again, and they ploddedon by Bardie's Farm, where the scent became sparse, and on to Stegwhere, for the first time since leaving Templeton, they came upon tracesof their fellow-man. 

The worthy inhabitants of Steg, particularly the junior portion of them, hailed our three heroes with demonstrations of friendly interest. Theyhad turned out fully half an hour ago to see the main body of the huntgo by, and just as they were returning regretfully to their ordinaryoccupations, the cry of "Three more of 'em!" came as a welcome reprieve, and brought them back into the highway in full force. 

Fond of their joke were the friendly youth of Steg, and considering thequiet life they led, their wit was none of the dullest. 

"Hurrah! Here's three more hounds!"

"They's the puppies, I reckon. "

"Nay, one of 'em's got the rickets, see. "

"If they don't look to it, the hares will be round the world andcatching them up. "

"Hi! Mister puppy, you're going wrong; they went t'other way. "

"Shut up!" cried Dick. 

"Go and give your pigs their dinner, " shouted Heathcote. 

Coote contented himself with running through the village with his tonguein his cheek, and in another three minutes the trio were beyond earshotand shaking the dust of Steg from their feet. 

"How many miles now?" asked Coote, with a fine effort to appearunconcerned at the answer, which he put down in his own mind at six orseven miles. 

"Three and a half, about--put it on, you fellows. "

It was a long trot along the springy turf outside Swilford Wood. Onceor twice the scent turned in and got doubtful among the underwood, butit came out again just as often, and presently turned off on to theHeath. 

Our heroes ploughed honestly through the bracken and gorse which tangledtheir feet and scratched their bare shins at every step. That mile overthe Heath was the most trying yet. The hares seemed to have picked outthe very cruellest track they could find; and when, presently, the"Firm" caught sight of the ruthless little patches of paper goingstraight up the side of Welkin Beacon, Coote fairly cried for quarterand announced he must sit down. 

His companions, though they would not have liked to make the suggestionthemselves, were by no means inexorable to the appeal. 

"Why, we've hardly started yet, " said Dick, throwing himself down on theground; "you're a nice fellow to begin to want a rest!"

"Only just started!" gasped Coote; "I never ran so far in my life. "

"We came that last bit pretty well, considering the ground, " saidHeathcote, anxious to make the halt as justifiable as possible. 

"I wonder where the hares are now?" said Dick, rather pensively. 

"Back at Templeton, perhaps, " said Heathcote, "having iced ginger-beer, or turning into the 'Tub. '"

"Shut up, Georgie, " said Dick, with a wince. "What's the use of talkingabout iced ginger-beer out here?"

They lay some minutes, each dreading the first suggestion to move. Coote feigned to have dropped asleep, and Heathcote became intenselyinterested in the anatomy of a thistle. 

Dick was the only one who could not honestly settle down, and thedreaded summons, when at last it came, came in his voice:--

"You lazy beggars, " cried he, starting up, "get up, can't you? and comeon. "

Rip Van Winkle never slept more profoundly than did Coote at thatmoment. But alas! Rip had the longer nap of the two. 

An unceremonious application of the leader's toe, and a threat to go onalone, brought the "Firm" to their feet in double-quick time, andstarted them up the steep side of the Beacon Hill. 

Demoralised by their halt, they fared badly up the slope, and had it notbeen for Dick's almost vicious resolution, which kept him going andovercame his own frequent inclination to yield to the lazier motions ofhis companions, they might never have done it. Dick saw that the effortwas critical, and he was inexorable. Even Georgie thought him unkind, and Coote positively hated him up that slope. 

Oh, those never-ending ridges, one above the other, each seeming to bethe top, but each discovering another beyond more odious than itself!

More than once they felt they had just enough left in them to make thepeak that faced them; and then, when it was reached, their endurance hadto stretch and stretch until it seemed that the point of breaking mustcome at each step. 

If nothing else they had ever done deserved the reward of the virtuous, that honest pull up the side of the Welkin Beacon did; and Freckleton, had he seen them making the last scramble, would have put their namesdown on his list without further probation. 

The cairn stood before them at last, and as they rushed to it, andplanted themselves on the topmost point, where still a few scraps of thescent lingered, all the fatigue and labour were forgotten in anexhilarating sense of triumph and achievement. 

"Rather a breather, that, " said Dick, his honest face beaming all over;"you chaps took a lot of driving. "

"I feel quite fresh after it, " said Coote, beaming too. 

"You didn't feel fresh ten minutes ago, under the last shoulder but one, my boy. If you feel so fresh, suppose you trot down and up again whileGeorgie and I sit here and look at the view. "

Coote declined, and after a short rest they dropped down the long slope, with the scent in full view, on to Lowhouse, where the Gurgle, slippingclear and deep between its banks, seemed to them one of the loveliestpictures Nature ever drew. 

The scent lay right along the bank, sometimes down on the stones, sometimes on the high paths above the tree tops, until suddenly itstopped. 

"By Jove, we shall have to swim for it, you fellows, " cried Dick, delighted. "Chuck your shoes and things across, and tumble in. "

With joy they obeyed. They would fain have spent half an hour in thedelicious water, so soft and cool and deep. But Dick was in a self-denying mood, and would not allow his men more than ten minutes. That, however, was as good as an hour's nap; and when, after dressing andpicking up the scent, they took up the running again, it was like a newstart. 

Half-a-mile down, they came on to the country road, and here suddenlythe scent vanished. High or low they could not find it. It neithercrossed the road, nor went up the road, nor went down the road. Theysniffed round in circles, but all to no good--not a scrap of paper wasanywhere within twenty yards, except at the spot where they had struckthe road. 

They had gone, perhaps, half a mile with no sign yet of the scent, andwere beginning to make up their minds that, after all, they should haveturned up the road instead of down, when a horseman, followed by agroom, turned a corner of the road in front of them and came to meetthem. 

"Hurrah!" cried Dick, "here's a chap we can ask. "

The "chap" in question was evidently somewhat perplexed by theapparition of these three bareheaded, bare-legged, dust-stainedyoungsters, and reined up his horse as they trotted up. 

"I say, " cried Dick, ten yards off, "have you seen the Harriers go by, please?--Whew!"

This last exclamation was caused by the sudden and alarming discoverythat the "chap" thus unceremoniously addressed was no other than one ofthe two magistrates before whom, not three days ago, Tom White had stoodon his trial in the presence of the "Firm. "

"What Harriers, my man?" asked the gentleman. 

"Oh, if you please, the Templeton Harriers, sir. It's a paper-chase, you know. "

"Oh, you're Templeton boys, are you? Why, I was a Templetonian myselfat your age, " said the delighted old boy. "No; no Harriers have gonethis way. You must have lost the scent. "

"We lost it half a mile ago. If you're going that way, we can show youwhere, " said Dick. 

"Come on, then, " said the good-humoured squire; "we'll smell 'em outsomewhere. "

So the "Firm" turned and trotted in its very best form alongside theworthy magistrate until they reached the point where the scent hadstruck the road. 

The old Templetonian summoned his groom, and, dismounting, joined theboys, with all the ardour of an old sportsman, in their search for thescent. He poked the hedges knowingly with his whip, and tracked up theditches; he took note of the direction of the wind, and ordered hisgroom to take his horse a wide sweep of the field opposite on the chanceof a discovery. 

The boys, fired by his example, strained every nerve to prove themselvesgood Harriers, and covered a mile or more in their circuits. 

At length the old gentleman brought his whip a crack down on hisleggings and exclaimed:--

"I have it! Ha! ha! knowing young dogs! Look here, my boy! look here!"

And, taking Dick by the arm, he led him to the point where the scenttouched the road. 

"Do you see what they've done?--artful young scamps! They've doubled ontheir own scent. Usen't to be allowed in my days. "

And, delighted with his discovery, he led them back along the scent fora hundred yards or so up the field, where it suddenly forked off behindsome gorse-bushes, and made straight for the railway at Norton. 

"Ha! ha! the best bit of sniffing I've had these many years. And, now Icome to think of it, with the wind the way it is blowing, they may havedropped their scent fair, and the breeze has taken it on to the oldtrack. Cunning young dogs!"

"Thanks, awfully, " said Dick, gratefully; "we should never have foundit. "

The other two echoed their gratitude, and the delighted old gentlemanvalued their thanks quite as much as his Commission of the Peace. 

"Now you've got it, " said he, "come along and have a bit of lunch at myhouse; I'm not five minutes away. "

"Thanks, very much, " said Dick, "but I'm afraid--"

"Nonsense! come on. You're out of the hunt; ten minutes won't make anydifference. "

Of course they yielded, and enjoyed a sumptuous lunch of cold meat andbread and cheese, which made new men of them. It took all their goodmanners to curb their attentions to the joint; and their chatty hostspun out the repast with such stories of his own school days, that theten minutes grew to fully half an hour before they could get away. 

Before they did so Dick, who for a quarter of an hour previously hadbeen exhibiting signs of agitation and inward debate, contrived toastonish both the "Firm, " and his host. 

"We saw you at Tom White's trial the other day, sir, " said he, abruptly, at the close of one of the Squire's stories. 

"Bless my soul! were you there? Why, of course--all three of you; I sawyou. They didn't let the youngsters do that sort of thing in my day. "

"We were rather interested about White, you know, " said Dick, nervously. 

"A good-for-nothing vagabond he is!" said the very unprofessionalmagistrate. 

"We rather hope, " said Dick, turning very red, "he'll get let off. "

"Eh? what? Do you know, you young scamp, I can-- So you want him letoff, do you? How's that?"

"Because he didn't take the boat away, " said Dick, avoiding the horror-struck eyes of his "Firm. "

"We--that is I--let it go. "

"What do you say?" said the Squire, putting down his knife and fork andsitting back in his chair. 

Whereupon Dick, as much to stave off the expected storm as to justifyhimself, proceeded to give a true, though agitated, story of his andGeorgie's adventures on the day of the Grandcourt match, appealing toGeorgie at every stage in the narration to corroborate him. WhichGeorgie did, almost noisily. 

The magistrate heard it all out in silence, with a face graduallybecoming serious. 

"Do you know what you can get for doing it?" he asked. 

Dick's face grew graver and graver. 

"Shall we be transported?" he asked, with a quaver in his voice. 

The magistrate took a hurried gulp from the tumbler before him. 

"You've put me in a fix, my man. You'd no business to get round me toprevent me doing my duty. "

"I really didn't mean to do that, " put in Dick. 

"No--we wouldn't do such a thing, " said Georgie. 

"Well, never mind that. Whatever Tom White did to you, you'd no rightto do what you did. You've put me in a fix, I say. Take my advice andwrite to your father, and tell him all about it, and get him to comedown. If Tom White's partners and the pawnbroker get their money, theymay stop the case, and there'll be an end of it. If they don't, Tommust take his chance. Dear, dear, things have changed in Templetonsince my day. Confound it, I wish the Harriers would choose some otherrun! A nice fix I'm in, to be sure--young rascals!"

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Late that evening a crowd assembled in the Quadrangle of Templeton. Thehunt had been in three hours ago, and all the hounds but three hadturned up and gone to their kennels. It was to welcome the remainingthree that the crowd was assembled. They had already been signalledfrom the beach, and the faint hum in the High Street told that they hadalready got into their last run. 

Nearer and louder grew the sound, till the hum became a shout, and theshout a roar, as through the great gate of Templeton three small travel-stained figures trotted gamely into the Quad, with elbows down and headsup. 

They hardly seemed to hear the cheers or notice the crowd, but kepttheir faces anxiously towards where Cresswell--book in hand--stood atthe door of Westover's to receive them. 

"Have you run right through?" he asked as they came up. 

"Yes, every step, " gasped Dick. 

Five minutes later, the "Firm" was in bed and fast asleep. 

And two days later, when the revised list of candidates eligible forelection to the "Select Sociables" was displayed on the library door, itincluded the names of Richardson, Heathcote, and Coote. 

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX. 

HOW THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES STILL HANGS OVER OUR HEROES. 

 Dear Father, --Please come down here as soon as you can. We're in a regular row. I'm awfully afraid fifty pounds will not quite cover it. 

 Please try and come by the next train as the case comes on on Saturday, and there's not much time. We saw the magistrate yesterday, and made a clean breast. I hope they won't transport us. He was very jolly helping us find the scent, and gave us a stunning lunch. We ran the big hunt right through, and are pretty sure to get our names on the "Sociables" list. I wish you and mother could have seen the view on the top of Welkin Beacon. The awkward thing is that Tom White may get transported instead of us, and it would be jolly if you could come and get him off. Coote wasn't in it, but he's backing us up. How is Tike? I hope they wash him regularly. If I'm not transported, I shall be home in eight weeks and three days and will take him out for walks. 

 Love to mother, in which all join, --Your affectionate son, Basil. 

 P. S. --If you come, don't take Fegan's cab--he's a cheat. Old White will drive you cheap. He's Tom's father. Georgie sends his love. 

The reader may imagine, if he can, the consternation with which Mr andMrs Richardson read this loving epistle at breakfast on the Fridaymorning following the great hunt. 

They gazed at one another with countenances full of horror and terror, like people suddenly brought face to face with a great calamity. Atlength Mr Richardson said:--

"Where's the Bradshaw, Jane?"

"Oh, the train goes in half an hour. You have just time to catch it. Do go quickly. My poor, poor boy!"

The father groaned; and in another five minutes he was on his way to thestation. 

That morning, while school was in full swing, the porter entered thethird class room with a telegram in his hand, which he took straight tothe master. 

"Richardson, " said the master, "this is for you. "

Dick, who was at the moment engaged in drawing a circle on his Euclidcover with a pencil and a piece of string, much to the admiration of hisneighbours, jumped up as if he had been shot, and with perturbed facewent up to receive the missive. 

He tore it open, and, as he glanced at its contents, his anxious facerelaxed into a complacent grin. 

"From G. Richardson, London. I shall reach Templeton at 3:5 thisafternoon. Meet me, if you can. "

"Huzzah, Georgie!" said he, as he returned to his seat. "Father'scoming down by the 3:5. Let's all go and meet him. "

The "Firm" said they would, and, accordingly, that afternoon afterdinner the trio sallied forth in great spirits and good-humour to givethe anxious father a reception. 

With the easy memory of youth, they forgot all about the probable objectof his visit; or, if they remembered it, it was with a sort of passingfeeling of relief that the Tom White "row" was now as good as over--atany rate, as far as they were concerned. 

When Mr Richardson, haggard and anxious, descended from the carriage, it was a decided shock to encounter the beaming countenance of his sonand hear his light-hearted greeting. 

"Hullo, father--jolly you've come! Old White's cab is bagged, butSwisher's got a good horse to go. Here's Georgie and Coote--you know. "

The bewildered gentleman greeted his son's friends kindly, and then, disclaiming all intention of taking anybody's cab, drew his son aside. 

"What is all this, my boy? Your mother and I almost broke our heartsover your letter. "

"Oh, it's all serene--really, father, " said the boy, a little disturbedby his father's anxious tones. "We really wouldn't have sent if themagistrate hadn't said we'd better--would we, Georgie?"

"No; he said that was our only chance, " replied Georgie. 

"If your two friends will take my bag up to the 'George, '" said MrRichardson, despairing of getting any lucid information out of the"Firm" as a body, "I should like a walk with you, Basil, on the strand. "

Coote and Georgie departed with the bag, and the father and son beingleft alone, Dick gave a simple and unvarnished narrative of the legaldifficulties in which he and his friends were involved. 

Mr Richardson's heart beat lighter as he heard it. The scrape was badenough, but it was not as bad as he had imagined, nor was the foolishboy at his side the monster of iniquity his letter had almost implied. They had a long talk, those two, that afternoon as they paced the hard, dry strand at the water's edge and watched the waves tumbling in fromthe sea. They talked about far more than Tom White and his boat. Dick's heart, once opened, poured into his father's ears the story ofall his trials and temptations, and hopes and disappointments, atTempleton. 

The narration did him good. It cleared and strengthened his mindwonderfully. It humbled him to discover in how many things he had beenwrong, and in how many foolish; and it comforted him to feel that hisfather understood him and judged him fairly. 

It was late in the afternoon when their walk came to an end. Then MrRichardson said:--

"Now, I suppose you and your friends have decided that I am to give youhigh tea at the 'George'--eh?"

"Thanks, " said Dick, who had had a dim prospect of the kind. 

"Well, I'll come up to the school and see if I can get Dr Winter togive you leave. "

"Dr Winter doesn't know about Tom White's boat, you know, " said theboy, as they walked up. "I didn't like to tell him. "

Dr Winter was easily persuaded to allow the "Firm" to spend the eveningwith Mr Richardson at the "George. "

The small party which assembled that evening at the table of the worthypaterfamilias did not certainly look like one over which hung the shadowof "transportation. " The talk was of "Tubs" and Harriers, of tennis and"Sociables, " of Virgil and Euclid; and as the first shyness of theirintroduction wore off, the "Firm" settled down to as jovial an eveningas they had spent for a long time. 

Only once did the shadow of their "row" return, when Mr Richardson, ateight o'clock, said:--

"Now, boys, good-night. I have a solicitor coming here directly. "

"About the trial, father?" asked Dick, with falling countenance. 

"Yes, my boy. As the case comes on to-morrow, there is no time to belost. "

There certainly was not; and Mr Richardson, before he went to bed thatnight had not only seen a good many persons, but had materiallylightened his pockets. 

Buying off the law, even in the most straightforward way, is anexpensive luxury. The prosecutors, of Tom White, seeing that theirvictim had an unexpected backer, became very righteous and high-principled indeed. They could not think of withdrawing the case. Itwas a public duty--painful, of course, but not to be shirked. It painedthem very much to bring trouble on any one, particularly an oldshipmate; but they owed it to society to see he got his deserts. 

They were, of course, wholly unaware of Mr Richardson's specialinterest in the matter. Otherwise, they might have been even morevirtuous and high-principled than they were. They looked upon him as abenevolent individual, bent on getting the half-witted vagabond out oftrouble, and, as such, they knew quite enough of fishing to see that hewas in their net. 

Their own solicitor, too, knew something about this sort of fishing, andthe unfortunate father spent a very unhappy morning floundering about inthe net these gentlemen provided for him--extremely doubtful whether, after all, he would not be obliged publicly to incriminate his son, inorder to solve the difficulty. 

However, by dint of great exertion, he contrived to get the caseadjourned for three days more. The prosecutors were, of course, shockedto see the course of the law delayed for even this length of time. Itmeant expense to them, as well as inconvenience. Of course MrRichardson had to act up to this broad hint, and promising, further, notto make any attempt to bail their prisoner, he obtained their reluctantconsent to a postponement till Wednesday, greatly to the disgust, amongother persons, of Duffield and Raggles, who, mindful of their pleasantmorning last Saturday, had come down with another five-pennyworth ofchocolate creams, to watch the case again. 

"Beastly soak it was, " said Raggles that afternoon, to Dick, who, actingon parental orders, had abstained with the "Firm" from visiting theCourt. "They say there's some idiot come all the way from London tostop the case. I'd like to kick him. What business has he to come andspoil our fun?"

"Look here!" said Dick, with a sudden warmth which quite took away thebreath of Master Raggles. "Shut up, and hold your row, unless you wantto be chucked out of the Quad. "

"What on earth is the row with you?" asked the astounded Raggles. 

"Never you mind. Hook it!" retorted Dick. 

Raggles departed, not quite sure whether Dick had not had too much"swipes" for dinner, or whether his run after the Harriers yesterday hadnot been too much for his wits. 

Dick felt rather blue that afternoon as he watched the train whichcarried his father steam out of Templeton station. 

He had somehow expected that this visit would settle everything. Butinstead of doing that, Mr Richardson had left Templeton almost asanxious as when he entered it. Dick couldn't make it out, and hereturned rather dismally to Templeton. 

Here, however, he had plenty to distract his attention. The fame of the"Firm's" exploit on the previous day was still a nine days' wonder inthe Den, and he might, had he been so inclined, have spent the afternoonin discoursing to an admiring audience of his achievement. But he wasnot so minded. He was more in the humour for a football scrimmage, andas to-day was the first practice day of the season, he strolled off tothe fields, and relieved his feelings and recovered his spirits in anhour's energetic onslaught on the long-suffering ball. 

Rather to his surprise, Georgie did not join him in this occupation. That young gentleman, to tell the truth, was very particularly engagedelsewhere. 

His proceedings during the last few days had not been unnoticed by hisold patron, Pledge. 

That senior, after his unceremonious deposition from the monitorship byMansfield, had been considerably exercised in his mind how to hold uphis head with dignity in Templeton. 

He was acute enough to see that his chief offence in the eyes of theseenemies had been, not open rebellion, or a flagrant breach of rules, buthis influence over the juniors with whom he came into contact. 

Over George Heathcote's soul, especially, he saw that a great battle hadbeen waged, and was still waging, in which, somehow or other, the twogreat parties of Templeton seemed involved. 

So far, the battle had gradually gone against Pledge. Just when he hadconsidered the youngster his own, he had been quietly snatched off byDick, and before he could be recovered, the monitors had stepped in andtaken Dick's side, and left him, Pledge, discomfited, and a laughing-stock to Templeton. 

Had they? Pledge chuckled to himself, as he thought of Mr Webster'spencil, and of the toils in which, as he flattered himself, he stillheld both Heathcote and Dick. They were sure of their darling little_proteges_, were they? Not so sure, reflected Pledge, as they think. They might even yet sue for terms, when they found that by a single wordhe could change the lodgings of the two sweet babes from Templeton tothe county jail. 

He, therefore, in moderately cheerful spirits, allowed a day or two topass, avoiding even a further visit to Webster; and then casuallywaylaid his old fag as he was returning, decidedly depressed in mind, from saying good-bye to Mr Richardson. 

"Why, Georgie, old man, " said Pledge, "how festive you look! The changeof air from my study to Swinstead's has done you good. Where have youbeen all the morning?"

"I've just come up from the town, " said Heathcote, wishing he could getaway. 

"Ah, trying to square somebody up, eh? It's not quite as easy as onemight think; is it?"

Heathcote looked doubtfully up at his old senior's face, and saidnothing. 

"It's a wonder to me, you know, " said Pledge, turning his back andlooking out of the window, "that your new angelic friends don't somehowdo it for you. There's Mansfield, you know. One word from his lipswould do the business. Everyone knows he never did anything low. "

"Mansfield never speaks to me, " said Georgie, more for the sake ofsaying something than because he considered the fact important. 

"Really! How ungrateful of him, when you have been the means ofenabling him to kick me out of the Sixth. Very ungrateful!"

"I never had anything to do with that, " said Georgie. 

"No! You don't, then, believe a fellow can make use of you without yourknowing it. You can't imagine Mansfield saying to his dear friends, 'I'd give anything to get at that wicked Pledge, but I daren't do itstraight out. So I must pretend to be deeply interested in that littleprig, Heathcote, and much concerned lest he should be corrupted by hiswicked senior. That will be a fine excuse for having a slap at Pledge. I'll take away his fag, and then, of course, he'll resign, and we shallget rid of him!'"

"I don't believe he really said that, " said Heathcote, colouring up. 

"'And then, ' he would say, 'to bribe the youngster over, and keep himfrom spoiling all and going back to his old senior, we'll manage to foolhim about our precious new Club, and put his name on the list. '"

This was rousing Georgie on a tender point. 

"If my name gets on the list, it will be because Dick and Coote and Iran through the hunt; that's why!" he said, rather fiercely. 

"Ha, ha! If they could only humbug everybody as easily as they do you. So you are really going to get into the Club?"

"I'll try, if our names get on the list. "

"And you think they are sure to elect you? Of course you've donenothing to disgrace Templeton, eh?"

The boy's face fell, and Pledge followed up his hit. 

"They'd like you all the better, wouldn't they, if they heard you andyour precious friends are--well, quite a matter of interest to theTempleton police; eh, my boy?"

"We're not, " stammered Georgie, very red. "You needn't say anythingabout that, Pledge. "

"Is it likely? Don't I owe you too much already for cutting me, andtalking of me behind my back, and letting the monitors make a catspaw ofyou to hurt me? Oh, no! I've no interest in telling anybody!"

"Really, Pledge, I never talked of you behind your back, and all that. I didn't mean to cut you. Please don't go telling everybody. It's badenough as it is. "

Pledge chuckled to himself, and began to get his tea-pot out of hiscupboard. 

"You see I have to help myself now, " said he. 

Georgie's heart was touched. What with dread of the possible mischiefPledge could do him, and with a certain amount of self-reproach at hisdesertion, he felt the least he could do would be to fall into his oldways for this one evening. 

It was just what Pledge wanted. How he longed that Mansfield andCresswell and Freckleton could all have been there to see it. 

"Mansfield is hardly likely to trouble his head about every errand evensuch an important personage as you run, " said he, in reply to one feebleprotest from the boy. "Call yourself Swinstead's fag by all means. Youcan still fag for me. However, it doesn't matter to me. I can get onwell enough without. "

"Oh, yes, I'll try, " said Georgie. 

That was enough. Pledge felt that too much might overdo it. So withthis triumph he dismissed his youthful perturbed _protege_ for thenight, and dreamed sweetly of the wrath of his enemies, when theydiscovered that after all he (Pledge) was master of the situation inspite of them. 

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN. 

HOW THE "MARTHA" COMES HOME TO HER BEREAVED FRIENDS. 

Pledge did well to sleep sweetly and enjoy his triumph while it lasted, for the battle which raged over the soul of George Heathcote was by nomeans ended yet. 

"I say, Georgie, " said Dick, next day, as the "Firm" took a Sundayafternoon stroll along the cliffs. "Where on earth did you get toyesterday? You never turned up at football practice, and skulked allthe evening. "

Georgie coloured. His conscience had already smitten him for detachinghimself from his leader at a time of danger like the present; stillmore, for deserting him for a fellow like Pledge. 

One result of Dick's sovereignty had been that the "Firm" had contracteda habit of telling the truth to one another on all occasions. It wasfound to be the shortest cut to friendship, and a vast saving of timeand trouble. 

Georgie, therefore, however much his inclination, as moulded by Pledge, may have led him to prevaricate, replied, "I was in Pledge's study. "

Dick whistled, rather a dismayed whistle. 

"I thought you were out of that, " he said. 

"So did I; but, I don't know, Dick. He's got to know all about our row, and if I don't be civil to him he'll let out on us. "

"How does he know? Who's told him?"

"I never did, " said Coote. 

"I can't fancy how he heard. But he knows all about it, and he as goodas says he'll spoil our chance for the 'Sociables' if I don't fag forhim. "

"Beastly cad!" murmured Dick. 

"He says, you know, " pursued George, "that it was all a spite ofMansfield's against him--that making me Swinstead's fag. They knew itwould make him resign. It is rather low, isn't it, to humbug me aboutjust for the sake of spiting someone else?"

"It's all a lie, Georgie. Pledge is one of the biggest cads inTempleton. I heard lots of people say so. Webster said so. He sayshe'd no more let a boy of his go near Pledge than he'd fly; andWebster's not particular. "

"And I heard Cartwright say, " said Coote, by way of assisting thediscussion, "that Pledge has done his best to make a cad of you, andnearly succeeded. "

"He said that?" said Georgie, hotly; "like his cheek! Has he done so, Dick?"

"Not much, " said Dick, frankly. 

"I don't feel myself a cad, " said poor Heathcote. 

"Perhaps fellows can't always tell, themselves, " said Coote. 

There was a pause after this, and the "Firm" walked on for some distancein silence. Then Dick said:

"You'll have to jack him up, Georgie, that's all about it. "

"But I tell you he'll let out on us, " pleaded Georgie, "and really I'veonly said I'll fag now and then for him. "

"Can't help, Georgie; We don't want to have you made a cad of. It wouldsmash up our 'Firm, ' wouldn't it, Coote?"

"Rather, " said Coote. 

"Besides, " said Dick, "he's such a cad, no one would believe him if hedid tell of us. My father would shut him up. He'll be down, you know, on Tuesday. "

Heathcote breathed hard. But when it came to a question of choosingbetween Pledge and the "Firm, " it needed no very desperate inward battleto decide. 

"What had I better do?" he asked. 

"Cut him, " said Dick. 

"But suppose I've promised him?"

"That's a nuisance. Never mind, we're all in it, so we'll send him aletter from the 'Firm' and tell him you cry off. It's a bad job, ofcourse, but it can't be helped, and we'll back you up, won't we, Coote?"

"I should rather say so, " replied the genial junior partner. 

So, that quiet Sunday afternoon, in an unpretentious and unsentimentalway, a very good stroke of work was done, not only for the soul ofGeorgie Heathcote, but for Templeton generally. 

The "Firm" were by no means elated at their decision, for they had yetto learn what revenge the senior would take upon them. Still, theeffort and the common peril knit them together in bonds of closerbrotherhood, and enabled them to face the future, if not cheerily, atleast, with grim determination. 

Pledge was considerably astounded that evening, just as he wasspeculating on the reason of Heathcote's non-appearance, to see Coote'sround head suddenly thrust in at the door, and a small billet tossed onto the table. 

Pledge was getting used to small billets by this time, and was rathertired of them. Coote, as he knew, was Cartwright's fag; he thereforeconcluded that Cartwright was the writer of the note, and that being so, he pitched the paper unopened into the empty fireplace with a sneer. 

He waited for another half-hour, and still Heathcote did not appear. Pledge didn't like it, and began to grow concerned. Was it possible, after all, he had made too sure of his young friend?

Partly to pass the time, and partly with the vague idea that might throwsome light on the matter, he had the curiosity to pick the neglectedbillet out of the hearth and open it. 

His face went through a strange series of emotions as he read itsextraordinary contents:--

 Our Dear Pledge, --We think you will like to hear that Heathcote can't fag for you. He doesn't believe he really promised, but must be excused. We've made him do it because we don't want him to be made a cad. He is very sorry, and hopes you won't be a cad and let out about the row we are in. Excuse this short letter, and, with kind regards, believe us, our dear Pledge, your affectionate young friends, B. Richardson, G. Heathcote, A. D. Coote. Sunday afternoon. 

This masterpiece of conciliatory firmness, which had cost the "Firm" anhour's painful labour to concoct, brought out the angry spots onPledge's cheeks and forced some bad language from his lips. 

The letter he had received from Mansfield a week ago had been nothing tothis. Mansfield and he were equals, and a reverse at Mansfield's handswas at least an ordinary misfortune of war. 

But to be coolly flouted, and to have all the work of a term upset bythree wretched youngsters, who called themselves his affectionate youngfriends, was a drop too much in the bucket of the "spider's"humiliation. 

He stared at the letter in a stupid way, like one bewildered. Even itsquaint phrases and artless attempts at conciliation failed to raise asneer on his lips. Something told him it was the hardest hit yet, andthat out of the mouths of these honest babes and sucklings his confusionhad reached its climax. 

If Richardson, Heathcote, and Coote snapped their fingers at him in theface of all Templeton, who else would care a fig about him?

The one grain of comfort was in the possession of the secret of MrWebster's pencil, to which Pledge clung as his last and winning card. 

How to make the most of it was the important question Pledge decided notto be impatient. Wednesday was to be the great election for the"Sociables, " and, if our heroes' names appeared on the list, as rumouralready said they would, his blow would tell best if held over tillthen. 

So he sat down, and acknowledged the "Firm's" note as follows:--

 My Dear Richardson, Heathcote, and Coote, --Pray do as you like. Promises are never made to be kept by "Select Sociables" of your high character. I do not understand what you mean about your row. What row are you in? _Are_ you in a row? You don't call that little matter that I am expecting to talk to the "Sociables" about on Wednesday a row, do you? Please give my kind regards to Georgie Heathcote, and tell him he will need to beg hard before I trouble him to lay my cloth. No doubt he has given you many interesting stories of the miserable week he spent with me last holidays in London. I'm not surprised at his turning against me after that. I hope I shall not have to tell anyone some of the stories he has told me of Richardson and Coote. Excuse this long letter, and believe me, my dear young jail-birds, your "affectionate" P. Pledge. 

This bitter effusion was read next morning by the "Firm" as they walkeddown to the "Tub. " Its full sting did not come out till after three orfour careful perusals, and then the "Firm" looked blankly at one anotherwith lengthened faces. 

"I couldn't believe any fellow could be such a cad, " said Dick. 

"It's jolly awkward!" said Heathcote. "You know he was awfully civil tome in London, and it does seem low to be cutting him now. "

"Civil, be hanged!" said Dick. "He tried to get hold of you to make acad of you, that's what he did; and you were precious near being one, too, when you came back, weren't you?"

"Was I?" asked the humble Georgie. 

"Rather, " said Coote; "everybody said so. "

"Well, of course, " said Georgie, "if that's what he was driving at, itdoesn't matter so much. "

"Except that it makes him all the bigger a cad. "

"What on earth shall we do about the other thing?" asked Georgie. 

"The row? We must cheek it, that's all. If he does us over the'Sociable' election, we can't be helped. "

"And suppose he gets us transported?"

"Can't do it, I tell you; my father will be up here, you know. "

There was a pause, and the "Firm" walked on. Then Georgie said:--

"I say, what does he mean about the stories I told about you and Coote. I never told any stories, that I remember. I never had any to tell. "

"Ah, I was wondering what that meant, " said Dick. "He speaks as ifyou'd been blabbing all sorts of things. "

"I really don't think I ever did, " said Heathcote, ransacking hismemory. "I may have said once I thought Coote was rather an ass, butthat was all. "

"What made you tell him that?" said Coote. 

"He asked me if I didn't think so, " said Georgie, apologetically, "andof course I was bound to say what I thought. "

"Rather, " said Coote. 

"But he's telling crams about you, Dick, " said Georgie; "I'm quite sureof that. He used to try and make out you were a sneak and a prig; andperhaps I believed him once or twice, but that was while I was a cad, you know. "

"Oh, yes, that's all right!" said Dick, putting his arm in that of hisfriend. 

Pledge would have had very little consolation out of this shortdiscussion, and if for the next two days he sat up in his studyexpecting that every footstep belonged to the "Firm" on its way tocapitulate, he must have been sorely disappointed. Capitulation was theone consideration which had never once entered the heads of the honestfraternity. 

That afternoon the town of Templeton was startled by an incident, whichhad it come to the ears of our heroes, as they sat and groaned overtheir "Select Dialogues of the Dead, " would have effectually drivenevery letter of the Greek alphabet out of their heads for the timebeing. 

The event was nothing else but the arrival in port of the collier brig, _Hail! Columbia_ with a cargo of coals from the Tyne, and _mirabiledictu_! with the _Martha_ lying comfortably, bottom upwards, safe andsound, on her deck. 

The collier, according to the account of the skipper, had been runningacross the head of the bay on the 5th of June last, in half a cap ofwind from the shore, when it sighted the _Martha_ drifting empty out tosea. Having sent one of his men after her to capture her, and beingconvinced by the absence of oars or tackle that she must have driftedfrom her moorings empty, he took her on board; and, as he was bound todeliver his cargo by a certain day, and the wind being against hisputting into Templeton, he stowed his prize comfortably away amidships, where she had been ever since, awaiting his next call at Templeton. 

With the free-and-easy business ways of his craft, he had neglected tosend any letter or message announcing the safety of the _Martha_ to herafflicted friends; and having been detained in this place and that bystress of weather or business, he had now, after more than three months'absence, his first opportunity of restoring the lost property to itsrightful owner. 

If the simple fishermen of Templeton had been inclined to believe inmiracles, the strange reappearance of the missing _Martha_ at thisparticular time must have savoured of something of the sort. But beingmatter-of-fact folk, they contented themselves with lounging round theboat as she lay once more on the beach, staring at her, and wonderingbetween their whiffs what the solicitors and judges would say now. 

The skipper of the _Hail! Columbia_ had neither the time nor thepatience to discover who just now was the lawful owner of the boat. Some said Tom White; some said Tom White's partners; some said thepawnbroker. 

The master disposed the problem off his mind very simply by setting downthe _Martha_ on the beach, and letting those who chose to claim hersettle their squabble among themselves. 

The news of the return of the prodigal was not long in spreading; and bythe time the Templeton boys came down for their afternoon bathe it wascommon property. 

Our heroes heard it in the water, from Raggles, and immediately landedand dressed. They scarcely exchanged a word till they stood at the sideof the _Martha_, where she lay in almost the same spot where two of themhad seen her three-and-a-half months ago. Then Dick said:--

"Think of her turning up at last!"

"I half guessed she would, " said Georgie, "though I never expected it. I say, this settles our row, doesn't it?"

"Pretty well. But of course Tom White may catch it for pawning theboat. He collared the money, you know. "

"Ah, but that's not got much to do with us, " said Heathcote. 

"Well, " said Dick, "we ought to back him right up, while we are at it. Besides, you know, we may still get into a row for letting her go, though she _has_ turned up. "

Altogether the "Firm" were not very sure how far their position wasimproved by the recovery of the _Martha_. If Pledge, or any one, choseto tell tales, or if they themselves, in order to extricate Tom White, had to tell tales of themselves, all might yet go wrong. The one goodthing, they decided, was that Mr Richardson, when he came to-morrow, would be saved the expense of buying at least one new boat for somebody. 

Our heroes, as in duty bound, were at the station to meet the 3:5 train, and give the worthy paterfamilias a reception. 

"Hullo, father, " cried Dick, as if he had only parted with his parentfive minutes ago, "they've found her, I say. Do you see that two-mastedcollier in the harbour? She picked her up, the day after we slippedher. Isn't it jolly?"

Mr Richardson certainly looked surprised, and a trifle relieved; butthe matter did not yet occur to him in a "jolly" light. 

"It's a good thing she has come back, " said he; "and now, as I have agreat deal to do, I'll say good-bye for the present. I have sent a noteto Doctor Winter, to ask him to let you breakfast with me at the'George, ' in the morning. "

"Thanks, awfully, sir, " said Coote, beaming all over. 

Mr Richardson laughed. 

"I'm afraid I only mentioned Basil in my note, " said he, "but I daresaywe shall be able to have a meal together later in the day. Good-bye. "

"Rather cool cheek of you, Coote, " said Dick, as the "Firm" returned tothe school, "cadging my father that way for breakfast. "

"Very sorry, " said Coote, humbly. "I thought we were all in it, that'sall. "

The evening passed anxiously for the boys, and no less so for poor MrRichardson, who was buffeted about from pillar to post, from lawyer tolawyer, from boatman to pawnbroker, in his honest efforts to extricatehis son from his scrape. 

The recovery of the _Martha_, he found, made very little improvement inhis prospects. For now she had come back, everybody seemed to becalculating the amount of money she would have brought in had sheremained at Templeton during the busy season. This loss was estimatedat several times the value of the boat, and the high-principledprosecutors would hear no suggestion of withdrawing the case until eachone of them--partners, pawnbroker, and all--had been refunded the entiresum. 

Then, when that was done, the lawyers pulled their bills out of theirdesks, and hinted that some one would have to settle them; and asneither the partners, nor the pawnbroker, nor Tom White, saw their wayto doing so, Mr Richardson had to draw his own inferences and settlethem himself. Then, when all seemed settled, the police recollectedthat they had had considerable trouble in looking after the case. Theyhad made several journeys, and spent several hours on the beach lookingout for the supposed thief. They had also had charge of Tom White for afortnight; and what with postages, telegrams, and office fees, they weredecidedly out of pocket over the whole business. 

The long-suffering father put them in pocket, and after subscribing toseveral local charities, and consoling the reporters of the _TempletonObserver_ and other such outsiders, he retired, jaded, but comforted, tothe "George, " feeling that if his mission had been successful, it hadcost him an amount of generosity which he could hardly have believed wasin him. 

When Dick, "with shining morning face, " presented himself next morningfor breakfast, he little imagined how much of his father's money was atthat moment scattered about in Templeton. 

"Huzza! father, " said he, when his parent presented himself in thecoffee-room. "Such a game! Cresswell says he'll give us his study thisevening, so our 'Firm's' going to give you a spread. Coote and Georgieare out ordering the tucker now--kidneys and tea-cake. I asked Winterwhen I went for my _exeat_ if we might have you, and he said, 'Yes; he'dbe very glad. ' Mind you come. It'll be a stunning spread, and Georgieand Coote are sure to pick out good things. I wish mother could cometoo. "

In the face of this hospitable outburst, Mr Richardson could hardlyexpatiate on the cost and anxiety of his mission to Templeton. A calmermoment must do for that. Meanwhile he delighted his son's heart byaccepting his invitation on the spot. 

He allowed Dick and his two friends, if it fitted in with school rules, to be present in the Court to hear the end of Tom White's case--apermission they were not slow to avail themselves of, although this timethey occupied a modest seat at the back, and attempted no publicmanifestations of encouragement to the prisoner in court. 

The case ended very simply. When it was called on, and Tom, as friendlyas ever, was ushered into the box, no one appeared to accuse him, andthe magistrates, rightly concluding this to mean that the prosecutionhad retired, dismissed the case accordingly. 

Tom said, "Thank'ee, sir, " and looked quite bewildered on being told hemight walk out of court a free man. 

Our heroes, who had already got outside before he reached the door, deemed it their duty to complete their efforts in his favour bycongratulating him on his escape. 

"Jolly glad we are, Tom White, " said Dick, as the worthy mariner cametowards them. "It was hard lines for you, and it wasn't all your fault. It's my father got you off, you know. "

"Thank'ee, young gentleman. It's very hard on a hard-working marinernot to have his living. If you could spare a trifle and tell thegentlemen, I'd thank you kindly. "

"We haven't got any tin to spare now, " said Dick, who knew that theresources of the "Firm" had been well-nigh exhausted in preparation forthe spread in Cresswell's study that evening; "but we won't forget. Good-bye, old man. Jolly glad you've got out at last!"

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT. 

HOW NEMESIS MAKES HER FINAL CALL. 

Our heroes, as they returned arm-in-arm from the trial of Tom White, were conscious that in proportion as the troubles behind themdiminished, those ahead loomed out big and ominous. 

They had escaped transportation; at least, so they told one another; andalthough, when all was said and done, they had not done much towardsrighting Tom White or recovering the _Martha_ still, somehow, Nemesishad been "choked off" in that direction. 

But when they turned their faces from what lay behind to the immediatefuture, their hearts failed them. They had staked high for the"Sociables. " Their run with the Harriers had been no trifle: and farmore important was the general attention it had drawn to themselves, andto their efforts to get into, the select company. Their candidature wasa master of public notoriety, and if Pledge should at the last momentcarry out his threat, their fall would be sad in proportion. 

When they reached Templeton they found the place in a ferment. Fellowswere going about with pencils and paper, making up their lists. 

"I say, " said Pauncefote, waylaying our heroes as they entered the Den;"vote for us, I say. I'll vote for you. "

"Oh, ah!" said Dick; "that means we give you three votes, and you onlygive us one. See any green? You get a couple of other chaps to stickus down, and then we'll do it. "

Pauncefote, rather bewildered by this way of putting the matter, wentoff immediately, and canvassed actively among his particular friends onbehalf of the "Firm;" which was very kind of him, as several fellowstold him. 

"Look here, you fellows, " said Gosse, approaching the "Firm" with atroubled face, "_do_ you know anybody in the lower Fourth who isn't acad? I've got down all the other forms, but I can't get a single decentname for the lower Fourth. "

"Aspinall, " said Dick. 

"But he's such a muff. I'd be ashamed to put him down. "

"Aspinall would lick you left-handed at tennis, and knows more Greekthan you know English, " said Dick, hotly; for he always looked upon theDevonshire boy as a credit to his protecting arm. "If you call thatbeing a muff, well, he is one, and you aren't, that's all. "

Gosse received this judgment with attention, and went off to have aprivate look at Aspinall at close quarters. 

"Oh, I say, Dick, " said Raggles, whom our heroes presently foundabsorbed in the deepest study; "here's a go! We've only got to put downsix in each form, and I've got a dozen down for ours, and don't see Ican cut any of them out. "

"Let's hear their names, " said Dick. 

"All serene! Raggles--"

"By Jove, that's modest! You're determined _he's_ to have one vote. "

"Oh, you know, I believe I'm safe; but, of course, everybody votes forhimself. "

"Go on. Who are the rest?"

"Raggles, Culver, Pauncefote, Smith, Gosse, Starkey, Crisp, Calverly, Strahan, Jobling, Cazenove, and--well, I thought of sticking down one ofyou three for the twelfth. "

"Thanks, " said Dick. "We aren't particular, are we, you chaps?"

"I'm not, " said Coote. "You can stick me down if you like, Rag. "

Raggles, finding not much assistance forthcoming to help him in hisdifficulty, retired to a quiet corner, and privately tossed up for eachname in succession. As his penny came down "tails" persistently bothfor himself and everybody else, except Gosse, he resorted to the lessrisky method of shutting his eyes, and dropping six blots on his paper. This happy expedient was only partially successful, as none of the blotsfell anywhere near any of the names. Finally, as time was growingshort, he put down his own name on the paper, and resolved to sacrificehis other votes. And when he had done it, he rather wondered the ideahad never struck him before. 

Our heroes meanwhile were busy with their own lists, which, under Dick'sguiding influence, rapidly filled up with a set of good names. When itcame to their own Form they agreed that, being a "Firm" and all "in it, "they were entitled each of them to vote for the "Firm" as a body; whichthey did amid much mutual rejoicing. 

At a quarter to four the big Hall began to fill. Everybody was there. Fellows who were on the list, sanguine, anxious, touchy; fellows whowere not on the list, cross, sarcastic, righteous. Nearly every one hadhis paper in his hand, which he furtively glanced through for the lasttime before the summons to deposit it in the basket on the platform. 

As before, the Sixth took rank as ordinary Templetonians, and nodistinction was made between monitor and junior, eligible and non-eligible. 

When the clock struck there were loud cries for Freckleton, whoaccordingly ascended the dais, and, after waiting patiently for order, proceeded to explain the order of election. 

"I suppose, " said he, "all of us who mean to vote have by this timefilled up our papers with the names of the fellows we think most worthyto be elected on the new Club. You'd better have a last look to see youhaven't put down more than thirty names altogether, and that there arenot more than six in any one Form. Also make sure you have none of yousigned your names to the papers, as this is secret voting, and it's notsupposed to be known how any one has voted. Now, will fellows come upby benches and drop their papers into the basket?"

The front bench, consisting chiefly of Sixth-form fellows, obeyed theinvitation, and deposited their papers in the receptacle. The rest ofthe meeting could not forbear the luxury of a few cheers as popular andunpopular seniors presented themselves; but, on the whole, the ceremonywas gone through rapidly and in an orderly fashion. 

Among the juniors, the Firm walked solemnly up the room amid cheers andcries of "Well run, puppies!" and gave in their votes. They glancednervously round at Pledge, where he sat with a sneer on his face, anddid not like the looks of him. The sneer they would have thoughtnothing of, but there was a serious, half-determined look about himwhich was ominous. 

"The beast!" whispered Dick. "He's going to do something. "

"Ugh!" said Georgie, "to think I ever liked him!"

"Now, " said Freckleton, when the voting was over, "to insure thecounting being fairly done, I propose that three fellows who have nothad the good luck to be on the list be asked to count. I dare say theywon't grudge the trouble, and it will be satisfactory to everybody toknow they see fair play for the rest. " (Hear, hear. ) "Will any threefellows volunteer?"

Five stood up. 

"Will you five choose three among you?" said Freckleton. 

This was soon done, and the scrutineers were in a few moments buried intheir work, watched eagerly by many anxious eyes. 

It took a good while, but to our heroes, as they sat and watchedPledge's ugly look, the end seemed to come all too soon. 

There was a loud hum of excitement when the list, as finally made out, was handed solemnly to Freckleton. 

"I think, if you don't mind, " said the Hermit, passing it back, "as I aman interested party, it would be better if one of you read it. "

"All right, " said the obliging scrutineer. "Gentlemen, --Unaccustomed asI am to public speaking, I beg to read you the list of the Sociables'Club. I don't see my own name on the list, but perhaps you'll considerthe fag we three have been put to this afternoon is a public service forthe good of Templeton. If so, please remember the poor scrutineers atthe next election. " (Cheers and laughter. ) "Now for the list. "

"Better only read the names of the elected ones in each form, and notthe number of votes, " suggested Freckleton. 

"Lucky Freckleton said so, " remarked the scrutineer, "or I should havetold you that his name is at the top of the poll by a very long start. "(Tremendous cheers. ) "But, as I'm not to let out figures, all I can sayis, he's in. And so are Crossfield, Cartwright, Swinstead, Frith, andMansfield for the Sixth-Form. "

It was curious to notice the effect of this announcement on the meetinggenerally and on the boys specially concerned. As name followed namewithout that of the Captain, fellows looked round at one another insomething like consternation. After all, the Captain of Templeton _was_the Captain of Templeton, and those who had not voted for him had madesure other fellows would. But when five names were read out, and it wasfound that even Swinstead and Frith were elected, a sudden tide ofrepentance set in, which found vent in an unexpected cheer as theCaptain's name followed. Templeton felt it had had a narrow escape ofmaking itself foolish, and the cheer was quite as much one of relief asof congratulation. 

Mansfield may have understood it. He had kept his eyes steadily on thereader, with a slight flush on his quiet face, and fellows who watchedhim could not tell whether the peculiar gleam which passed his eyes ashis name was read was one of triumph or vexation. Whatever it was, every one knew the Captain would be altered neither in purpose normotive by the incident. Jupiter would be Jupiter still, whether inOlympus or out of it; and Templeton, on the whole, felt that, had thevote gone otherwise, it would have had quite as much blushing to do asthe defeated hero. 

The scrutineer continued his list in order of forms. Of our particularacquaintance, Birket, Hooker, Duffield, Braider, and Aspinall all gotsafely "landed, " while Bull, Wrangham, and Spokes were passed over. 

Templeton, in fact, was a very good judge of honour when it was put tothe choice, and even the enemies of the new Club could not helpadmitting that the best men, on the whole, were the elected ones. 

A grim silence fell on the Hall as the scrutineer said--

"Now, Gentlemen, the Upper Third. The following are elected:--

"Richardson. "

Dick caught his breath and felt he dared not move a muscle. Pledge waslooking that way, and, as the boy's eyes and his enemy's met, the cheersof the Den sounded feeble, and the shouts of the Firm were spiritless. 

"Pauncefote. "

Dick started again at this and shook off the spell that was upon him. How dared Pauncefote come between him and his Firm? If fellows votedfor him--Dick--what on earth did they mean by not voting also forGeorgie and Coote? He faced defiantly round towards the reader andwaited for the next name. 

"Smith. "

Dick quailed as he listened to the mighty cheer with which Pauncefotewelcomed his chum into the realms of the Select. Pauncefote and Smithwere partners; they hunted in couples, they wrote novels together: andhere they were side by side, while the "Firm" was cruelly severed memberfrom member. Surely Nemesis was having a fling too many if this was herdoing!

"Heathcote. "

"Ah! about time, too, " thought Dick, as he raised his voice in a defiantcheer. He'd like a quiet five minutes with the fellows who had dared topass his chum by in the voting. But, at any rate, Georgia was safe, and, if only Coote came next, the "Firm" could afford to snap itsfingers at its constituents. 

"Cazenove. "

What! fat Cazenove jammed in between the "Firm" and its junior partner!Dick and Georgie glared at him, scarcely able to repress a howl at thesight of his smiling expanse of countenance. It had never occurred toany of them that the ballot may part friends whom not even a sentence oftransportation could have severed, and they looked on, now more thanhalf bewildered, as the scrutineer read out the sixth name. 

"For the sixth place, " said he, "there appears to be a dead-heat. Calverly and Coote have both the same number of votes. What's to bedone, mighty Lycurgus?"

"Say you retire!" shouted Dick to the astonished Calverly, on whom theannouncement had fallen with as much surprise as it had on his friends. 

"Don't you do anything of the sort, " shouted Gosse; "you're are as goodas that lot. Stick in!"

"Of course he will, " shouted others. 

So Calverly announced he would stick in, and Coote had better retire, asuggestion Coote did not even condescend to notice. He was in his"Firm's" hands, and the "Firm" were determined to fight the thing outtill they had not a toe to stand on. 

"The simplest way, " said Freckleton, "is to vote again for the two. What do you say, gentlemen of the Den?"

"All right, " roared the Den. 

"What's it to be: ballot or show of hands?"

"Show of hands, " shouted most of them. 

"Do you agree to show of hands, you two, " said Freckleton, "or would yousooner have ballot?"

"I'd rather have show of hands, " said Calverly. 

"So would Coote, " shouted Dick and Georgie. 

"Then those who vote for Calverly hold up one hand, " said Freckleton. 

It was a big show, and the scrutineers, as they went from bench tobench, counted 141. 

"Now for Coote. "

Every one could see it was a terribly close affair. As Dick and Georgiescanned the benches, their hearts sank at the sight of so many notvoting. 

"Another dead-heat, I expect, " said Pauncefote. 

The suggestion drove Dick almost frantic. Coote _must_ come in, or theconsequences would be awful. 

"Now, you fellows, " he cried, starting up and addressing Templetongenerally, as the scrutineers started on their rounds, "all together forold Coote! Don't forget his trot with the Harriers!"

This simple election speech called forth a cheer, and, better still, sent up two or three more hands. 

Loud cries of "Order" from the top end of the room prevented any furtherappeal, and amid dead silence the scrutineers finished their work. 

"For Coote, " announced the spokesman, "there are 146. "

Then did the "Firm" go mad, and lose their heads. Then did they yelltill their throats were hoarse, and wave their hands till their armsached. 

Then did they link arms, as they sat victorious, and forget the sorrowsof a term in that one paean of victory. 

"Very close, " they heard Freckleton say, as soon as order was restored. "Are you satisfied, Calverly?"

Woe betide Calverly had he ventured to be otherwise!

"All right, " he said, meekly, cowed by the mighty triumph of the "Firm. "

"Then Coote is in, " announced the scrutineers. 

The election was over, and Freckleton was about to disperse the meeting, when it was noticed Pledge was on his legs, trying to speak. 

A low hiss and groan went round the Hall, but curiosity to hear what thedeposed monitor had to say at such a time restored order. 

Three boys alone knew what it all meant, and their faces blanched, andtheir limbs shook, as they looked out from their retreat and awaitedtheir fate. 

"Perhaps, " said Pledge, "as this is a public meeting, you will allow me, though I have not the proud honour of being a 'Sociable, ' and although Ibelieve I am not a monitor either, to ask a question. I assure you I doit in the interests of Templeton, and of your immaculate Club. I don'tsuppose any one will thank me for doing it, and I am glad to say I haveceased to expect thanks. You may attribute any motive you like to me;the worse it is, probably, the better you will be satisfied. Icertainly shall not trouble to tell you my motive, except that it is foryour good. All I want to ask is, whether this meeting is aware thatthree members of the new Club are at this moment under the eyes of thepolice, for a disgraceful act of theft committed in the town; and, ifso, whether you think that fact increases their claims to become membersof a Club which is to be a credit to Templeton?"

The speech was heard in dead silence. But as it closed, a storm brokeforth from all quarters of the Hall. 

"Name! Sneak! Cad! Name!"

The angry spots blazed out in Pledge's cheeks as he faced the storm andheard the cries. 

"You want the names, do you? You think, perhaps, I do not dare to givethem. I do dare, though I stand here single-handed. The three boys areRichardson, Heathcote, and Coote, and if you don't believe me, askthem. "

Another dead silence followed this announcement, and all eyes turned towhere the "Firm" sat, pale and quivering. 

Before, however, they could say a word, Mansfield rose, and stepped upon to the platform. 

"Pledge has, for reasons best known to himself, charged three boys herewith theft. Unlike his usual manner, he makes the charge in publicbefore the whole school; and that being so, it is only fair the wholeschool should hear from him and his witnesses, if he has any, what thetheft is. "

The Captain's words were greeted with cries of approval from themeeting, and every one turned now to Pledge. 

He stood a moment irresolute, scowling at his arch-enemy, and longing tobe able to include him in the accusation he brought against his_proteges_. Then, with a half-swagger, he stepped on to the platform. 

"If the Captain thinks I'm afraid to do what he asks, he's mistaken. Idon't believe in hole-and-corner business. And as he has challenged meto accuse his three young friends in public and bring my witness, I willdo both. "

"What witness?" groaned Heathcote, in a whisper to Dick. 

"Don't talk to me, " hissed Dick, between his teeth. 

"Go on, " said Mansfield, to the accuser. 

"Thank you. So I will. A fortnight ago, gentlemen, a small boy wentdown to Templeton--"

"Wait!" interposed Mansfield, "we must have names. What boy?"

"A small boy named Coote, " began Pledge. 

Coote, at the sound of his name, half-bounded from his seat. He knew hewas "in it. " But what on earth had any proceedings of his a fortnightago to do with the loss of the _Martha_?

"Went down to Templeton to a shop--"

"What shop?" demanded Mansfield. 

"To Webster's shop, " replied Pledge, beginning to be ruffled by theCaptain's determined manner. 

The "Firm" started suddenly. Whatever was coming?

"While spending his time in the shop, the young gentleman, as younggentlemen sometimes do, stole a silver pencil. "

There was a pause, and every eye turned towards Coote, who gaped at theannouncement and stared at his partners as if he had been confrontedwith a ghost. 

On Dick's countenance a curious change was taking place. Horror hadalready given way to bewilderment, and bewilderment was in turn givingway to something which actually looked like a grin. 

"The young gentleman, " proceeded Pledge, "had two dear friends, calledRichardson and Heathcote, to whom he confided his stroke of business, and who joined him in concealing or disposing of the stolen article. "

Dick could remain silent no longer. To the horror of his Firm, and thebewilderment of every one else--most of all, Pledge--he burst into alaugh, which sounded weird in the dead silence. 

"Order!" cried Mansfield, sternly. "Go on, Pledge. "

"I heard of the theft from the--from Webster immediately after itoccurred, and for the last fortnight have been watching the culprits--"

Here he was interrupted by a hiss, which the Captain immediatelysuppressed. 

"And they have actually admitted their guilt in begging me not to tellof them to you. "

At this point Dick started up excitedly, and began--

"I should like to say--"

But the Captain stopped him. 

"You will be heard shortly. First of all we must hear Pledge'switness. "

"Certainly. I told Webster to call up at half-past four. He doesn'tknow what for. You'd better have him in. I'll go and fetch him. "

"No, " said the Captain. "Aspinall, will you ask him to come in?"

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE. 

HOW TEMPLETON TURNS A CORNER. 

Aspinall was not absent three minutes altogether, but the intervalseemed interminable. 

Our heroes, as they sat huddled together, pale, defiant, but bewildered, dividing the attention of the meeting with their accuser, thought it acentury. More than once Dick, boiling over, started to his feet andattempted to speak, but every time Mansfield quietly suppressed him, andtold him to wait till the proper time came. 

Coote was once more racked by doubts as to whether he had really takenthe pencil after all. He was morally certain he had not, but Coote wasa youth always open to conviction. 

The door opened at last, and Aspinall appeared ushering in thebookseller, who looked like a man who suspected a trap and was preparedto defend himself at the first sign of attack. 

He had received a note in the morning from Pledge--of whom he had seenor heard nothing since his visit to the shop a fortnight ago--asking himto be sure to call at the school at 4:30 on a matter of business. 

When Aspinall summoned him, he concluded it was to go to Pledge's study. But when, instead of that, he found himself suddenly ushered into acongregation of the whole school, it was small wonder if he feltbewildered and sniffed treachery. 

"Mr Webster, " said Mansfield, "Pledge, here, has just been publiclyaccusing three boys of theft. He says they have robbed you, and we wantyou to hear his statement and tell us if it is true. Please repeat whatyou have to say, Pledge, in Mr Webster's hearing. "

The stationer, with inquiring face, turned to Pledge, who, despite somevague doubts which were beginning to disturb his confidence, smiledaffably and said--

"Oh, sorry to bring you up, Mr Webster, just at your busy time, but Iwas telling my friends here about that little affair of the pencil-case, you know, which was stolen from you; and as they don't seem inclined tobelieve me, I thought the best thing would be for you to tell them aboutit yourself. "

The countenance of the bookseller underwent a marvellous transformationas the speech proceeded. When Pledge had ceased, he exclaimed--

"Pencil-case! Why, bless you, Mr Pledge, I found that a fortnightago!"

This announcement was the signal for a howl such as Templeton had rarelyheard. The pent-up scorn of an afternoon broke out against the accuseras he stood there, pale and stupefied, staring at Webster. 

It was all Mansfield could do to restore order. The gust had to blowitself more than half out before even he was heeded. 

"Look here, you fellows, " said he, "don't let us lose our heads. Wewant to hear the rights and wrongs of the case fairly. Hadn't youbetter wait till that's done before you turn the place into a bear-garden?"

The rebuke told, and the meeting relapsed into silence. 

"You never told me that, " snarled Pledge. "You've been fooling me. "

"You never asked me. Mr Richardson knew; he was in the shop just afterI found it. "

"Of course he was, " sneered Pledge. 

"He needn't have been, if that's what you mean. He'd nothing to do withit. Bless you, it's an old story now; I'd almost forgotten it. "

"You forgot, too, that you asked me to recover it for you; and you letme go on while all the time you had it. "

"You offered to get it back. I never asked you. You said you had aninterest in the young gentlemen. "

"And you never thought it worth while to tell me the thing had turnedup?"

"I told Mr Richardson, and said I was sorry for the fright he and histwo friends had had. It never struck me you'd go on bothering about it, or I'd have told you. Fact of the matter is, I've never seen you fromthat day to this. "

"Is that all you want to say?" said Mansfield, turning to Pledge. 

"I can only say this, " said Pledge: "that I never saw three boys imitateguilt better. If they hadn't done it, I should like to ask them whythey quaked in their shoes whenever they met me, and why they sent me around robin, asking me not to tell about them?"

"I can tell you that!" shouted Dick, springing up. 

"You needn't wait, Mr Webster, " said Mansfield. "Thank you for comingup. "

"Thank you, gentlemen, " said the tradesman. 

"I'm sorry to be mixed up in the matter. Mr Pledge can go somewhereelse for his books. Good day, gentlemen. "

"Good day, " said several voices. 

When order was restored, Dick was discovered, red in the face, mountedon a form, propped up on either side by his faithful allies. 

"I can tell him that, " he cried, "and all of you, too. We thought heknew about another row of ours--about Tom White's boat, you know. Itwas us let her go; at least I did, and Georgie was there, too, andCoote's been in it since he came up. Tom White robbed us coming backfrom Grandcourt, and we were awfully wild, and were cads enough to sliphis boat on the beach. There's been a regular row, and we expected tobe transported. We backed Tom White up all we could, and tried to gethim off. I told the magistrate it was us did it, and he said I'd puthim in a jolly fix. Pledge was always talking to us about the police, and the county gaol, and that sort of thing, and we made sure he'd foundout all about it, and was going to do us over it. We never guessed hewas running his head against that pencil business, or we could easilyhave put him right. We're awfully sorry about the boat, you know. Mygovernor came down and squared most of the fellows, and it's all rightnow, and Tom's got let off. Pledge has got a spite against all our'Firm, ' because we're not going to let Georgie be made a cad of by him, and we told him so; didn't we, you chaps?"

"Yes, we did, " shouted the "chaps. "

"Yes, he thought, " continued Dick, warming up, "he'd make Georgie go andfag for him again, by threatening him about this row; but we backedGeorgie up, and wouldn't let him; and then he promised to show us up atthe 'Sociables, ' and so he has. "

Dick's oration was too much for the feelings of his audience. Theylaughed and cheered at every sentence; and when finally he subsidedbetween his two supporters, quite short of breath, and wondering at thelength of his own speech, they forgot the Captain's rebuke, and finishedtheir howl against Pledge to the bitter end. 

"Does Pledge want to ask any more questions?" asked Mansfield. 

Pledge laughed bitterly. 

"No, thank you; I'm not quite clever enough for them. "

"Perhaps you are right, " said the Captain, drily. "And if you havenothing more to say, perhaps you would like to go. "

Pledge hesitated a moment, amid the howls which followed the Captain'swords. Then he coolly rose, and ascended the platform. His face wasflushed, and his eyes uneasy; but otherwise impudence befriended him, and he stood there to all appearances neither humiliated nor dismayed. 

"Gentlemen, " he began; but a fresh storm arose, and drowned his voice. 

The uproar continued till Mansfield called for order, and said--

"I think in ordinary decency you ought to treat everybody fairly on aday like this. It will do you no harm, and it will be more worthy ofTempleton. "

"Gentlemen, " said Pledge, "thank you for being ordinarily decent, although it wouldn't break my heart if you didn't hear me. It's not aseasy as you may suppose to stand up single-handed against a school fullof howling enemies. It's easy for you to howl when everybody howls onyour side. Suppose you change places with me, and try to speak wheneverybody's howling against you. However, I don't complain. Somebodymust be on the losing side, and as all of you take care to be on thewinning. I'll do without you. "

Pledge certainly knew his audience. He had hit them cleverly on a weakpoint--the point of chivalry; and had he been content to rest where hewas, he might even yet have saved a following for himself in Templeton. But he went on--

"Our three young friends have told you a pretty story, which has highlyamused you. It amused me too. They told you I had a spite againstthem. I must say it's the first I've heard of it. As a rule Sixth-formfellows don't waste much time in plotting against boys in the Third; butRichardson evidently thinks he and his friends are considerably moreimportant than other boys of their age and brains. Suppose I were totell you that, instead of my having a spite against any one, somebodyhas, for the last year, had a spite against me, and that somebody is theholy Captain of Templeton? Suppose I told you that he dared not show itopenly, but made use of my wretched fag and his friends to tell tales, and trump up stories about me? Suppose I told you he and his fellow-monitors resorted to a mean dodge to get me to resign my monitorship, and then got up this precious Club in order to soft-soap their owntoadies for helping them to do it? What has Mansfield done forTempleton, I should like to know? Hasn't he done more harm than good byhis hectoring manner and his favouritism and fussiness? Isn't he one ofthe most unpopular fellows in Templeton? Didn't he all but getignominiously left out of his own wonderful Club? And what do you thinkof him when he gets up here and tries to pass as a model of justice, when as likely as not, he has pre-arranged the whole affair, and toldevery one what part he is to play in the farce?"

He sat down amid a dead silence, conscious he had overdone it. A littleless, and he might have convinced some that what he said was true; butwhen he talked such palpable nonsense as that of the Captain havingarranged the whole scene which Pledge himself had got up, the meetingtook his whole tirade for what it was worth, and received it in mockingsilence. 

Freckleton, to the relief of everybody, got up and said--

"I did think we might be spared quite such a ridiculous speech as thatto which we have just listened. However, I have nothing to say aboutits comic side. What I want to say is this. It is perfectly trueMansfield had a spite against Pledge. So had I; _so_ had Cresswell. Sohad eleven out of twelve of all the other monitors. And I'll tell youwhy. When a fellow deliberately sets himself to corrupt juniorsentrusted to his care, as he corrupted young Forbes (howls), when hesets himself to upset every vestige of order and good form in Templeton;when he tells lies of everybody, and never tells the same lie correctlytwice running (laughter); when he cudgels his brains how he may makemischief between friends (cheers from the 'Firm'), and get the credit ofbeing the only friend of the very fellows he tries to ruin; then, I say, it's no wonder if Mansfield, and you, and everybody has a spite againsthim. I don't say much for the Templetonian that hasn't. I don't meanthe spite which would lead any one to kick him. Thank goodness, we canlet him know what we think without wearing out our shoe-leather(laughter). He talks in noble strain about being single-handed, and onthe losing side. Thank goodness he is single-handed, and on the losingside! Thank goodness, too, he is lonely, and finds no one ready to keephim company in his low ways! He talks about Mansfield, " continued thespeaker, waxing unexpectedly warm. "Gentlemen, if you knew Mansfield aswell as I do, you would be as angry as I am to hear the lies thismiserable cad tells. Mansfield, gentlemen, would, I know, risk his lifefor the good of Templeton. He may not be popular. He's told me, oftenand often, he knows he isn't. But, I say to him, and I think you willsay too, 'Go on, old man, ' (cheers). 'You've done more good toTempleton in a term than other Captains have done in a year; and if theonly thing you had ever done had been to rid us of the cad, Pledge, youwould have done the school a service that any one might be proud of, '(loud cheers). There, I've used hard words, I know, and almost lost mytemper, but it's best to speak out sometimes. Pledge has heard whatI've said, and I shouldn't say anything different behind his back. "

The Hermit sat down amidst a roar of applause, in which the Sixth joinedas heartily as any. The effect of his simple, straightforward speechwas immediately apparent when Mansfield rose to dismiss the assembly. 

For a moment he stood there, unable to speak for the cheers whichgreeted him. The honest indignation of his friend had touched akeynote, which suddenly awakened Templeton to the conviction that itsCaptain was a hero after all; and the almost pathetic reference to hisunpopularity roused them to an enthusiasm of repentance which was almoststartling. 

At length silence reigned, and the Captain said, with the faintestsuspicion of a tremble in his voice--

"I think we've all had enough of this, you fellows. There's the Chapelbell. This meeting is over. "

By a curious sort of instinct, the meeting, instead of immediatelydispersing, remained seated, while Pledge rose, and moved to the door. He had got half-way there before he noticed his isolation, and a suddenflush of scarlet in his cheeks betrayed his emotion at the discovery. It was too late to retreat to his seat, and too late to pretend not tonotice his position. With a pitiful attempt at a swagger, he completedhis passage to the door, and left the Hall. 

As he reached the door, a low hiss rose from the middle of the assembly, but a sudden gesture of appeal from the Captain stifled it before itcould spread, and the door closed behind the retreating figure amid asilence which spoke volumes. 

The meeting waited a minute or two, and then quietly rose and dispersed, every one feeling that from that afternoon a new era in the history ofTempleton had been inaugurated. 

Our heroes, who in the midst of later excitements had half-forgottentheir own share in the afternoon's proceedings, were among the first toget out into the Quadrangle; and once there, their manner changed fromone of dignified solemnity to one of agitated expectancy. 

In a quarter of an hour their guest was due in Cresswell's study, andbetween now and then, what had they not to do?

Who shall describe that wondrous spread, or the heroes that partook ofit? How, when Mr Richardson arrived, punctual and hungry, he found atable groaning under every delicacy the ingenuity and pocket-money ofthree juniors could provide; how the kidneys were done to a turn and thetea-cake to a shade; how jam-pots stood like forts at each corner of thesnowy cloth; how hot rolls and bath buns lorded it over white loaf andbrown; how eggs, boiled three minutes and five seconds by Heathcote'swatch, peeped out among watercress and lettuces; how rosy apples andluscious pears jostled one another in the centre dish; and how tea andcoffee breathed forth threatenings at one another from rival pots on thesame tray?

It was a spread to make the mouths in Olympus water, and drive Hebe andGanymede to despair. Mr Richardson, who, in the guilelessness of hisheart, had brought a small plum-cake as a contribution to the feast, positively blushed as he saw that table, and hid his poor mite back inhis pocket for very shame. 

The "Firm, " when they did go in for a thing, did it well, and nomistake; and, if Mr Richardson had paid up royally for them during theday, he should find that more than one could play at that game, and thatthey would pay up royally at night. 

Like a brave man, the good father expanded his appetite, and, regardlessof consequences, took a little of everything. The "Firm" took a greatdeal of everything, and never was a more jovial meal. 

Coote's cup seemed to be always on the road to or from the pot, andGeorgie was for ever mistaking the dish of tea-cake for his own privateplate; while Dick, bolder than any of them, insisted on giving hisparent ocular demonstration of the wholesomeness of each several dish, until that good gentleman began to think it was a good thing he was nota daily visitor at Templeton. 

"Jolly brickish of old Cress, giving us his study, isn't it, you chaps?"

"Rather!" said Georgie. "I think we might almost leave him outsomething. "

"I don't particularly want this _egg_, " said Coote, who had alreadyaccomplished two and was gently tapping a third, "if you think he'd likethat. "

"How would it be to ask him in? Would you mind, father?"

"Not at all, " said Mr Richardson, really relieved at the prospect of afifth appetite to help off the banquet. 

So Dick went in search of his senior, and found him in Freckleton'sstudy. He felt constrained to invite both seniors to join their party, and, somewhat to his alarm, they both accepted gladly. 

Dick need not have been alarmed, though, for both the provisions and thecompany held out wonderfully. 

Mr Richardson was delighted with his boy's seniors, and they were noless delighted with him. The whole story of Tom White's boat wasrehearsed again, as were also the other stories of the term, finishingup with the eventful assembly of the afternoon. 

"It wasn't a pleasant affair at all, " said Cresswell, "but thunderstormsdo clear the air sometimes, and I think Templeton understands itselfbetter now. "

"Of course we shall have Pledge still, " said Freckleton, "but, as longas fellows know what he is, he's not dangerous. It's when he gets holdof young greenhorns like Heathcote and Coote he does mischief. "

"He never got hold of me, " said Coote. 

"I was an ass to let him make a cad of me, " said Heathcote. "I hadwarning, you know; the Ghost wrote to me before I'd been here afortnight. "

"What Ghost?" asked Mr Richardson. 

Cresswell laughed. 

"Nobody knows, " said he, "though some of us guess. "

"Who? Was it you?" asked Dick. "I got a letter too, you know. "

"No; it wasn't I. "

"Then, by Jove! it must have been Freckleton, " exclaimed Dick, interpreting the guilty look on the Hermit's face. "Was it, I say?"

"'_Dominat qui in se dominatur_'!" said the Hermit in a sepulchral tone. "Yes, my boy; but keep it mum. I shan't waste my Latin over you againin a hurry. "

"Your letter really made me sit up, " said Dick, gravely. 

"Well, I expect, " said Cresswell, "if Templeton goes on as she's doingnow, the poor Ghost will be hard up for a job. Mansfield is the rightman in the right place, and he's more right than ever now. "

"That he is, " said Freckleton, warmly. "I can tell you fellows that, inspite of his iron hand, he's one of the humblest fellows that everlived. I believe he prays for Templeton night and morning, and that'smore than a lot of us do, I fear. "

"After all, " said Mr Richardson, "that's the best sort of Christian. Aman who lives up to what he believes will lead fifty, where a man whobelieves more than he acts up to will barely lead one. "

"It strikes me, " said Freckleton, "it's no joke to be a leader of men, or boys either; is it, Dick?"

"Oh, I don't know, " said Dick. "It's no good as long as you don't goquite straight yourself. You've got to go square yourself, I suppose, before any one else will back you up. "

"Yes, " said Coote; "we couldn't back you up, you know, while you weregoing on as you were, could we, Dick?"

"Didn't look like it, " said Dick, with a grin. 

"But I expect Dick thinks it was worth his while to have to go steady, "said Cresswell. "It's done your 'Firm' no harm, has it?"

"Rather not!" said the "Firm, " returning to their supper. 

THE END.