[Illustration: ACTON DROPPED TO THE GROUND LIKE A BLUDGEONED DOG. ]

 ACTON'S FEUD

 A PUBLIC SCHOOL STORY

 BY FREDERICK SWAINSON

 1901

 WITH TWELVE ILLUSTRATIONS

 LONDON GEORGE NEWNES, LIMITED SOUTHAMPTON STREET, STRAND 1901

 AD MATREM

CONTENTS

CHAPTER

 I. THE FOUL 1

 II. THE PENALTY 8

 III. THE REGENERATION OF BIFFEN'S HOUSE 15

 IV. BIFFEN'S PROGRESS 22

 V. COTTON AND HIS JACKAL 27

 VI. THE LAST CAP 36

 VII. THANKS TO ACTON 49

 VIII. BIFFEN'S CONCERT 57

 IX. THE END OF TERM 65

 X. THE YOUNG BROTHER 75

 XI. TODD PAYS THE BILL 88

 XII. RAFFLES OF ROTHERHITHE 93

 XIII. "EASY IS THE DOWNWARD ROAD" 99

 XIV. IN THE STABLE 106

 XV. GRIM'S SUSPICIONS 112

 XVI. TODD "FINDS HIMSELF" 119

 XVII. RAFFLES' BILL 126

 XVIII. HODGSON'S QUIETUS 133

 XIX. HOW THEY "'ELPED THE PORE FELLER" 138

 XX. ACTON'S TRUMP CARD 146

 XXI. LONDON AND BACK 156

 XXII. THE PENFOLD TABLET FUND 161

 XXIII. BOURNE _v. _ ACTON 170

 XXIV. A RENEWED FRIENDSHIP 179

 XXV. A LITTLE ROUGH JUSTICE 187

 XXVI. THE MADNESS OF W. E. GRIM 194

 XXVII. CONCERNING TODD AND COTTON 204

 XXVIII. ACTON'S LAST MOVE 209

 XXIX. WHY BIFFEN'S LOST 215

 XXX. THE END OF THE FEUD 225

ACTON'S CHRISTMAS

 I. SNOWED UP 237

 II. OVER THE FELLS 248

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

ACTON DROPPED TO THE GROUND LIKE A BLUDGEONED DOG Frontispiece

PHIL WALKED DOWN THE STEPS WITHOUT A FRIENDLY CHEER 40

ACTON JUST REACHED IT WITH HIS HEAD 50

AS THE TRAIN MOVED, GRIM SAID, "THREE CHEERS!" 74

ACTON THREW HIM INTO THE SNOW-HEAP 78

A LITTLE YELLOW, EAR-TORN DOG BUSTLED OUT OF SOME SHED 94

"I'M GOING TO HAVE THE SEVEN TEN, OR SHOW YOU UP" 128

THE GREEN POWDER UNDERWENT SOME WEIRD EXPERIMENTS 142

HE PUSHED UP HIS WINDOW AND CRAWLED THROUGH 160

"CUT, YOU MISERABLE PUPPY" 172

HE GAVE ME A LONG, STEADY LOOK OF HATRED 204

AS THE HORSES WHIRLED PAST, HE CLUTCHED MADLY AT THE LOOSE REINS 226

CHAPTER I

THE FOUL

Shannon, the old Blue, had brought down a rattling eleven--twoInternationals among them--to give the school the first of its annual"Socker" matches. We have a particular code of football of our own, whichthe school has played time out of mind; but, ten years ago, theAssociation game was introduced, despite the murmuring of some of themasters, many of the parents--all old Amorians--and of Moore, the Head, who had yielded to varied pressures, but in his heart thought "Socker"vastly inferior to the old game. Association had flourished exceedingly;so much so that the Head made it a law that, on each Thursday in theMichaelmas term, the old game, and nothing but the old game, should beplayed, and woe betide any unauthorized "cutters" thereof. This was almostthe only rule that Corker never swerved a hair's breadth from, and bitterwere the regrets when Shannon had sent word to Bourne, our captain, thathe could bring down a really clinking team to put our eleven through theirpaces, if the match were played on Thursday. Saturday, on account of bigclub fixtures, was almost impossible. Corker consented to the elevenplaying the upstart code for this occasion only, but for the schoolgenerally the old game was to be _de rigueur_. 

So on this Thursday pretty well the whole school was out in the Acres, where the old game was in full swing; and, though I fancy the players to aman would have liked to have lined up on the touch-line in the next fieldand given Shannon the "whisper" he deserves, O. G. Claimed them thatafternoon for its own, and they were unwilling martyrs to old Corker'scast-iron conservatism. Consequently, when Bourne spun the coin andShannon decided to play with the wind, there would not be more thanseventy or eighty on the touch-line. Shannon asked me to referee, so Ifound a whistle, and the game started. 

It was a game in which there seemed to be two or three players who servedas motive forces, and the rest were worked through. On one side Shannon atback, Amber the International at half, and Aspinall, the Internationalleft-winger, were head and shoulders above the others; on our side, Bourneand Acton dwarfed the rest. 

Bourne played back, and Acton was his partner. Bourne I knew well, sincehe was in the Sixth, and I liked him immensely; but of Acton I knew only alittle by repute and nothing personally. He was in the Fifth, but, exceptin the ordinary way of school life, he did not come much into the circlewherein the Sixth moves. He was brilliantly clever, with that sort ofshowy brilliance which some fellows possess: in the exams, he would walkclean through a paper, or leave it untouched--no half measures. He was inBiffen's house and quite the most important fellow in it, and no endpopular with his own crowd, for they looked to him to give their house aleg up, both in the schools and in the fields, for Biffen's were theslackest house in St. Amory's. He played football with a dash and vim goodto see, and I know a good few of the eleven envied him his long, lungeingrush, which parted man and ball so cleanly, and his quick, sure kick thatdropped the ball unerringly to his forwards. He was not in the eleven; butthat he would be in before the term was over was a "moral. " He wasgood-looking and rather tall, and had a certain foreign air, I thought;his dark face seemed to be hard and proud, and I had heard that his temperwas fiery. 

Bourne had chosen him to play against Shannon's team, and as Acton bottledup the forwards on his wing Bourne felt that the school's future rightback would not be far to seek. 

I soon saw that the school was not quite good enough for the others:Shannon was almost impassable, and Amber, the half, generally waltzedround our forwards, and when he secured he passed the ball on to Aspinall, who doubled like a hare along the touch-line. The question then was "CouldActon stop the flying International, who spun along like Bassetthimself?" And he did, generally; or, if he could not, he forced him topart with the ball, and either Baines, our half, lying back, nipped in andsecured, or Bourne cleared in the nick of time. Nine times out of ten, when Acton challenged Aspinall, the International would part with the ballto his inside partner; but twice he feinted, and before either of theschool backs could recover, the ball was shot into the net with a high andcatapultic cross shot. Again and again the game resolved itself into aduello between Acton and Aspinall, and Bourne, when he saw the dealingswith the International and his wiles, smiled easily. He saw the school wasstronger than he thought. 

The interval came with the score standing at two against us. When Istarted the game again I found that our fellows were pulling along muchbetter with the wind, and that some of Shannon's men were not quite sodangerous as before, for condition told. We quickly had one through, andwhen I found myself blowing the whistle for a second goal I began to thinkthat the school might pull through after all. Meanwhile Acton and Aspinallwere having their occasional tussles, though somewhat less often thanbefore, and three or four times the school back was overturned prettyheartily in the encounters. 

Though there was not a suspicion of unfairness or temper on Aspinall'spart, I fancied that Acton was getting rather nettled at his frequentupsets. He was, I considered, heavier than Aspinall, and much taller, so Iwas both rather waxy and astonished to find that he was infusing a littletoo much vigour into his tackling, and, not to put too fine a point on it, was playing a trifle roughly. Aspinall was bundled over the touch-line agood half-dozen times, with no little animus behind the charge, andultimately Bourne noticed it. Now, Bourne loathed anything approaching badform, so he said sharply to Acton, though quietly, "Play the game, sir!Play the ball!" Acton flushed angrily, and I did not like the savage wayhe faced round to Bourne, who was particularly busy at that moment and didnot notice it. The game went on until within about five minutes from time. Amber had been feeding Aspinall assiduously for the last ten minutes, andActon had, despite his cleverness, more than he could really hold in theflying International. He stalled off the attack somehow, and Bourne alwayscovered his exertions, so that it seemed as if there would be a draw afterall. At last the ball was swung across, and Aspinall was off on a finalventure. Acton stuck to him like a leech, but the winger tipped the ballto his partner, and as Acton moved to intercept the inside, the latterquickly and wisely poked the ball back again to Aspinall. He was off againin his own inimitable style, and I saw him smile as he re-started his run. I rather fancy Acton saw it too, and accepted the smile as a sneeringchallenge; anyhow, he set his lips and I believe made up his mind that inany case Aspinall should not get the winning goal. How it exactly happenedI cannot say, but as Aspinall was steadying himself, when at top speed, for an almost point-blank delivery, I saw Acton break his own stride, shoot out his leg, and the next moment the International was stumblingforward, whilst the ball rolled harmlessly onward into our goal-keeper'shands. I could hardly believe my own eyes, but it was a deliberate trip, if ever there was one! Aspinall tried to recover himself, failed, and camewith a sickening crash against the goal-post. I blew the whistle andrushed to Aspinall; his cheek was bleeding villainously and he was deadlypale. I helped him up, and he said with his usual smile--who could mistakeit for a sneer?--"Thanks, old man. Yes, I do feel a bit seedy. That backof yours is an animal, though. " He tried hard to keep his senses; I sawhim battling against his faintness, but the pain and shock were too muchfor him; he fell down again in a dead faint. 

We improvised a hurdle and carried him up to the school. Acton, pale tothe lips, prepared to bear a hand, but Bourne unceremoniously took him bythe arm and said with concentration, "No thanks, Acton. We'll excuseyou--you beastly cad!" I heard Bourne's remark, though no one else saw orheard. Acton's hand closed involuntarily, and he gave Bourne a vitrioliclook, but did nothing nor said anything. We took Aspinall up toMerishall's--his old house--where he was staying, and left him there stillunconscious. 

What astonished me was that no one save Bourne had noticed the trip, butwhen I came to think it over the explanation was easy. Acton had, whetherfrom accident or of purpose, "covered" his man and blocked the view frombehind. I myself had not really _seen_ the trip, but it would havebeen plainly visible for any one opposite on the touch-line, and luckilythere was no one opposite. The goal-keeper might have seen it, but Robertsnever attends to anything but the ball--the reason he's the fine keeperthat he is. Bourne had actually seen it, being practically with Acton, andI knew by his pale face and scornful eyes that he would dearly have likedto kick Acton on the spot. 

I was, as you may guess, intensely pleased that no one had an idea of thefoul except Bourne and myself, for I could imagine vividly where therumour of this sort of "form" would spread to. We'd hear of it for yearsafter. 

I mentally promised that Acton should have a little of my opinion on thematter on the first opportunity. 

CHAPTER II

THE PENALTY

I arranged to see Bourne that evening, when we should have heard thedoctor's report on Aspinall. In the evening Bourne strolled into my room, looking a little less gloomy than I expected. "Briggs says that there isnothing broken, and that as soon as Aspinall gets over the shock he willbe all right. The cut may leave a scar, but that will be about all. Allthe same, Carr, I think that's too heavy a price to pay for the bad temperof one of our fellows who can't stand a tumble into the mud at 'footer. 'You saw the villainy, didn't you?"

"I can't say I actually saw him trip, but there's no doubt whatever thatit was an abominable foul. "

"None at all. I saw him, worse luck, tolerably plainly. "

"Do you know anything about him?"

"Practically nothing. "

"I think Biffen's rather fancy he's going to lift them out of the mire. "

"Can't say I envy them their champion. "

"What strikes me as odd is that such a magnificent player should do such avile trick. "

"Rum, certainly. The affair will give quite a professional touch to our'Socker' fixtures, and the Carthusians will ask us to bar our bullies whenthey come down again. Oh, this _is_ sweet!"

"I say, Bourne, this business must not move one inch further. You'vespoken to no one?"

"Is it likely?"

"We'll not have any of our dirty linen washed _coram populo_, oldchap. Frightful bad form. No one knows but you, Aspinall, and self. "

"Surely Aspinall will----"

"You don't know Aspinall, old man. He'd shrivel up sooner than say a wordmore. Bet you he'll speak of it as an accident. Remember, he was captainof the school here once. "

"Which makes it a blacker shame than ever, " said Bourne, wrathfully. 

"I've inquired casually of the Fifth, and it seems our friend oncedistinguished himself in the gym. Lost his temper--as _perrecipe_--and Hodgson had to knock him down before he could see thatwe put on the gloves here for a little healthy exercise, and the pleasureof lifting some of the public schools championships. He, however, apologized to Hodgson, but I don't think he'll do the honourable here. "

"Then, the chief attraction of the beauty is its temper?"

"Or want of it. "

"Who is he, anyhow?"

"Yorkshire people, I believe. Own half a town and no end of coin. Been toschool in France and Germany, and consequently came here rather late. Iknow his head-piece Is all right, and I imagine his amiability is only alittle foreign blood working its way out. He will be with us in the Sixthat Christmas. "

"Delightful prospect. What I want to know is--how are we to settle thisbusiness as far as he is concerned? Ought Moore to know?"

"I don't think so. Never trouble Corker more than you can help, old man. That's a tip for you when I'm gone. Besides, masters generally mishandleaffairs of this sort. I rather fancy I'll put it to Aspinall when he pullsthrough. "

"Do. One thing, though, is pretty certain. He'll never get his cap as longas I'm captain of the footer eleven. I'd rather come out of it myself. "

"Of course. I see there's no help for that, but, all the same, it willmake complications. What a pity he _can_ play!"

"It is, for he is a back out of a thousand. "

Bourne's voice had in it a ring of genuine regret, and whilst I couldalmost have smiled at his unaffectedly tragic tone, I could see the vistawhich his resolution opened up. I heard the school shouting at Bourne tolet the finest player out of the eleven in, and all the shouting would beacross "seas of misunderstanding. " I know Bourne saw the difficultieshimself, and he left my study soon after with a rather anxious look on hisface. Personally I determined not to think about the matter until I hadseen Aspinall. From the very first I had never expected any help fromActon. There was something about the whole of his bearing in the caddishbusiness that told me plainly that we would have to treat him, not as afellow who had been betrayed to a vile action by a beastly temper and wasbitterly sorry for it, but as a fellow who hated us for finding it out. 

I saw Aspinall two days later, and as we walked towards the station Ibroached the matter. 

"Certainly; I thought he tripped me, but he has written me and said howsorry he was for my accident, so, of course, it rests there. "

"Candidly, Aspinall, have you any doubt yourself?"

"No, old fellow. I'm sorry, but I really think he tripped me. He was riledat a little hustling from Shannon's lot, and I may have upset him myselfoccasionally. But it is a small matter. "

I looked at the bandages across his cheek, and I didn't think it small. 

"But, Aspinall, even if we leave you out of the business, it isn't a smallmatter for us, especially for Bourne. "

"Well, no; hardly for you, " he admitted. "'Twas a piece of sheer bad form. It shouldn't be done at our place at all. "

"If you were in Bourne's place would you bar him his place in the eleven?"

Aspinall considered a full minute. 

"On the whole, I think I should--at least, for one term; but I'd mostcertainly let him know why he was not to have his cap--privately, ofcourse. I should not like it to get about, and I do not fancy Acton willsay much about it. "

That night Bourne and I crossed over to Biffen's, and waylaid Acton in hisden. I'm pretty sure there wasn't another room like his in the wholeschool. No end of swell pictures--foreign mostly; lovely little books, which, I believe, were foreign also; an etching of his own place up inYorkshire; carpets, and rugs, and little statuettes--swagger through andthrough; a little too much so, I believe, for the rules, but Biffenevidently had not put his foot down. Acton was standing on the hearthrugwith his back to the fire, and on seeing us he politely offered us chairswith the air of a gentleman and a something of grace, which was a trifleforeign. 

I saw that Acton's polite cordiality nettled Bourne more than a little, but he solemnly took a chair, and in his blunt, downright fashion, plungedheadlong into the business. 

"Only came to say a word or two, Acton, about Thursday's match. "

"A very good one, " he remarked, with what Corker calls "detachedinterest. " "Aspinall's accident was more than unfortunate. "

"The fact is, " said Bourne, bluntly, "neither Carr nor I believe it was anaccident. "

"No? What was it, then? Every one else thought it was, though. "

"We know better. We know that you deliberately fouled him, and----"

Acton paled, and his eyes glittered viciously, though he said calmly, "That is a lie. "

"And, " continued Bourne, "though there is not a fellow even a respectablesecond to you at 'footer, ' I shall not give you your cap as long as I amcaptain of the eleven. That is all I came to say. "

Acton said quite calmly (why was he so uncommonly cool, I askedmyself?)--though his face was red and white alternately: "Then listencarefully to what I say. I particularly wanted to have my footer cap--why, does not concern any one but myself--and I don't fancy losing it because acouple of fellows see something that a hundred others couldn't see, for thesufficient reason that there wasn't anything to see. I shall make no rowabout it; and, since you can dole out the caps to your own pet chums, andno one can stop you--do it! but I think you'll regret it all the same. I'mnot going to moan about it--that isn't my way; but I really think you'llregret it. That is all; though"--this with a mocking sneer--"why itrequires two of you to come and insult a man in his own room I don'tunderstand. "

"I came to say that if you'd apologize to Aspinall things mightstraighten. "

"Might straighten! Oh, thanks!" he said, his face looking beastlyvenomous. "I think you'd better go, really. "

So we went, and I could not but feel that Bourne was right when he said onparting, "Our friend will make himself superbly disagreeable over this, take my word for it! But he won't get into the eleven, and I won't have asoul know that old Aspinall's scar is the work of a fellow in St. Amory's, either. If they have to know, he must tell them himself. "

CHAPTER III

THE REGENERATION OF BIFFEN'S HOUSE

To say that Acton was upset by our visit and our conversation and Bourne'sultimatum would be beside the mark; he was furious, and when he had cooleddown somewhat, his anger settled into a long, steady stretch of hatetowards us both, but especially towards Bourne. He simmered over manyplans for getting "even" with him, and when he had finally mapped out acourse he proceeded, as some one says, "diligently to ensue it;" for Actonwas not of that kind to be "awkward" as occasion arose, but there wasmethod in all his schemes. 

It so happened that Worcester was captain of Biffen's house, and also ofBiffen's "footer" team. My own opinion was that poor old Worcester wouldhave given a lot to be out of such a house as Biffen's, and I know heutterly despised himself for having in a moment of inexplicable weaknessconsented to be permanent lead to Biffen's awful crowd on the Acres. Hedied a thousand deaths after each (usual) annihilation. Worcester andActon had nothing in common, and, except that they were in the same houseand form, they would not probably have come to nodding terms. Worcester, of course, looked up to the magnificent "footer" player as the averageplayer looks up to the superlative. After the first game of the season, when Acton had turned out in all his glory, Dick had thereupon offered toresign his captaincy, even pressing, with perhaps suspicious eagerness, Acton's acceptance of that barren honour. But Acton did not bite. Captainswere supposed to turn out pretty well every day with their strings, andActon was not the sort of fellow to have his hands tied in any way. So hehad gently declined. 

"No, old man. Wouldn't dream of ousting you. You'll get a good team out ofBiffen's yet. Plenty of raw material. "

"That's just it, " said Worcester, naively; "it is so jolly raw. "

"Well, cook it, old man. "

"It only makes hash, " said Worcester, with a forlorn smile at his ownjoke. 

But now Acton thought that the captaincy of Biffen's might dovetail intohis schemes for the upsetting of Bourne, and therefore Dick's proposal wasto be reconsidered. Thus it was that Worcester got a note from Actonasking him to breakfast. 

Worcester came, and his eyes visibly brightened when he spotted Acton'stable, for there was more than a little style about Acton's catering, andWorcester had a weakness for the square meal. Acton's fag, Grim, was busywith the kettle, and there was as reinforcement in Dick's special honour, young Poulett, St. Amory's champion egg-poacher, sustaining his bigreputation in a large saucepan. Worcester sank into his chair with a sighof satisfaction at sight of little Poulett; he was to be in clover, evidently. 

"That's right, Worcester. That _is_ the easiest chair. Got that lastegg on the toast, Poulett? You're a treasure, and so I'll write yourmamma. Tea or coffee, Dick? Coffee for Worcester, Grim, tea for me. Passthat cream to Worcester, and you've forgotten the knife for the pie. You're a credit to Sharpe's, Poulett; but remember that you've beenpoaching for Biffen's footer captain. That's something, anyhow. Don'tgrin, Poulett; it's bad form. Going? To Bourne's, eh? I can recommend you, though it would be no recommendation to him. You can cut, too, Grim, andclear at 9. 30. See the door catches. "

Grim scuttled after the renowned egg-poacher, and Worcester and Acton wereleft alone. When Worcester was fed, and had pushed back his chair, Actonbroached the business to which the breakfast was the preliminary. 

"Fact is, Worcester, I've been thinking how it is that Biffen's is theslackest house in the place. "

"Oh! it's got such a plucky reputation, you know. The kids weep whenthey're put down for Biffen's. Give a dog a bad name--"

"But why the bad name?"

"Dunno! Perhaps it's Biffen. I think so, anyhow. At any rate, there's notbeen a fellow from the house in the Lord's eleven or in the footer eleven, and in the schools Biffen's crowd always close the rear. By the way, howdid you come among our rout?"

"I think mater knew Biffen; that's the explanation. "

"Rather rough on you. "

"Don't feel anything, really, Worcester. "

"Well, Biffen has got a diabolical knack of picking up all the loose endsof the school; all the impossible fellows gravitate here: why, look at ourDervishes!" (Dervish was the slang for foreigners at St. Amory's. )

"We've certainly got more than our share of colour. "

"That's Biffen's all the world over, " said Dick, with intense heat; "youcould match any colour between an interesting orange and a real jet blackamong our collection. Biffen simply can't resist a nigger. He must havehim. What they come to the place at all for licks me. Can't themissionaries teach 'em to spell?"

"_La haute politique_, " suggested Acton. 

"Of Sarawack or Timbuctoo?" said Worcester, with scorn. "Bet my boots thatBorneo one's governor went head-hunting in his time, and the darkestAfrican one's knows what roasted man is. "

Acton laughed, for a nigger was to Worcester as a red rag to a bull. "St. Amory's for niggers!" Dick would say with intense scorn. 

"Anyhow, " said Acton, "I think there's no need for us to be quite soslack. "

"You'll pull us up a bit?" said Dick, with genuine admiration. 

"Thanks. But I meant the whole house generally. "

"Not much good. We're Biffen's, that never did nor never shall, etc. "

"I don't know. There's sixty of us, barring your niggers; we ought to geteleven to look at a football with a business eye out of that lot, youknow. "

"We ought to, but don't. "

"We ought to do something in the schools too. "

"We ought to, but don't, though Raven is in for the Perry Exhibition. Guess he won't pull it off, though. "

"We'll see about that, too, " said Acton. "As for the niggers--"

"Oh, never mind them!" burst in Worcester. "Without humbug, Acton, do youreally want our house to move a bit?"

"Rather!"

"Well, then, consent to captain our footer eleven and we give ourselves achance, for I can't make the fellows raise a gallop at any price, and Isomehow think you can. Have a try. If you are sick of it at Christmas, I'll come in again; honour bright. It isn't too good-natured of me to askyou to pull Biffen's out of the mud, but you're the only fellow to do itif it can be done. Will you?"

"You wouldn't mind resigning?"

"By Jove, no!" said Worcester, precipitately. 

"Don't mention it. Not at all, old man, not at all. "

"Well, I've been thinking that, if you didn't mind, I'd like to try myhand on our crowd; though, since you don't move 'em, there can't be muchchance for me to do anything smart. "

"That doesn't follow, for you aren't me, old man. "

"Then I'll have a shot at it. "

Worcester grasped Acton's hand, as the French say, "with emotion. "

"But the house will have to elect me, you know; perhaps they'd fancy Ravenas captain. He can play decently, and they know him. "

"Well, Biffen's are a dense lot, but I'm hanged if even their stupiditywould do a thing like that. They've seen you play, haven't they?"

"Thanks. Fact is, Dick, I feel a bit bored by the patronage of Taylor'sand Merishall's, and Sharpe's and Corker's, and all the rest of thehouses. "

"Oh! Biffen's laid himself out for that, you must see. "

"I don't fancy Bourne's sneers and Hodgson's high stilts. "

"Haven't noticed either, " said Dick. 

"H'm!" said Acton, rather nettled by Dick's dry tone. "I have. As for theniggers--"

"The other houses despise us on their account. We're the Dervish Camp tothe rest. "

"As for the niggers, they shall do something for Biffen's too, " saidActon, rather thoughtfully. 

"You mean in the sing-songs? Well, they'll spare the burnt corkcertainly. "

"Well, that's an idea too, " said Acton, laughing, "but not the one I had. That will keep. "

Worcester might have some curiosity to know what Acton's idea was, but hewasn't going to inquire anything about the niggers. 

"It's awfully brickish of you, Worcester, " said Acton, as Grim was heardtrotting up the corridor "to stand down. "

"Not at all; the sacrifice is on your altar. "

"Then _allons_. Here's Grim knocking, and I've to see Corker at 9. 40. You'll excuse me. "

Grim came in and commenced to clear away, and the two sallied out. 

CHAPTER IV

BIFFEN'S PROGRESS

That day, after morning school, Biffen's held a meeting, and thereat Actonwas proposed captain by Worcester and seconded by Raven; and Biffen'sconfirmed Worcester's qualified opinion of their sense by electing him_nem. Con_. 

From that day Acton threw his heart and soul into the regeneration ofBiffen's. There did not pass an afternoon but that he turned out forfooter, and coached, encouraged, bullied, stormed, praised each individualmember of the team with the strictest impartiality and Spartan justice. 

The smallest fault was dragged out into the light of day, and commented onwith choice fulness, and any clever concerted piece of work got its duereward. Acton would stand no half-hearted play; he wanted the last ounceout of his men. The fellows stared a bit at first at his deadlyearnestness, so unlike Dick's disgusted resignation at their shortcomings;but they found the change refreshing on the whole, for they could stand alot of bullying from a fellow like Acton, who never seemed to make amistake, or to have an off-day, and who could give stones and a beating tothe best man among them. They respected his skill, and buckled to the workin hand. In about a fortnight there was a suggestion of style about themoving of some of the fellows up the field. Worcester backed up Acton withwhole-hearted enthusiasm, and Raven was lost in wonder at the forwardmovement. This backing Acton found rather useful, for Dick and Raven wereas popular as any in St. Amory's. 

Some of the fellows were inclined to turn restive after about a fortnight, when the novelty of earnestness in football had worn off, but Acton'sdemands were as inexorable as ever. Matters came to a head (probably, as Iexpect, to the new captain's inward satisfaction) when his girding upsetChalmers--about the best forward of Biffen's regenerated lot. There was tobe a match with some of the Fifth for the Saturday, and Acton had arrangeda preliminary canter the day before to test his attack. Chalmers was thewinger, but on the day he was tremendously selfish, and stuck to the balluntil he was robbed or knocked off it. Now, Acton loathed the "alone I didit" type of forward, and asked Chalmers pretty acidly what his inside manwas for. This riled Chalmers considerably, for he had a large privateopinion about his own play, and he said pretty hotly, "Mind your ownbusiness, Acton. "

Acton said very coolly, "I am going to do so. Please remember, Chalmers, this is not a one-horse show. "

"Seems distinctly like it, judging by the fellow who's been doing all thetalking for the last age. "

"Play the game, and don't be an ass. "

"I object to being called an ass, " said Chalmers, in a white rage. 

"Well, mule, then, " said Acton, cheerfully. "Anything to oblige you, Chalmers, bar your waltzing down the touch-line to perdition. You're not aBassett nor a Bell yet, you know. "

Chalmers would dearly have liked to have struck Acton, but Worcesterlooked so utterly disgusted at the whole business, that I fancy it wasDick's eye that suggested to Chalmers his getting into his coat andsweater. He did so, and stalked angrily off the field. 

Now, Chalmers really liked the game, and did not fancy being crossed outof the eleven, which Acton would almost certainly proceed to do; so thatnight after tea, he went to Worcester's study, and boarded Dick. 

"Apologize to Acton, " said Dick. 

"But he called me an ass!"

"You were one, " said Dick, dryly. "Acton's putting in a lot of work overthe slackest house that ever disgraced the old school, and this is howhe's treated. Ass is a mild term. "

Chalmers went to Raven. 

"Apologize, " said Raven. 

"He called me a mule, " urged Chalmers, despairingly. 

"So you were. I quite expected to see the kicking begin, really. Acton'ssweating no end to screw us up to concert-pitch, and flat mutiny is hisreward. Apologize, and help us win the Fifth to-morrow. "

So Chalmers moved reluctantly across to Acton's and made his apology. 

"Don't mention it, " said Acton, cheerfully. "Sorry I upset you, Chalmers, but you elected me captain, and I do want a little success in the houses, and how can we get it if the fellows don't combine? Say no more about it;I was rather afraid you weren't going to come, which is the unadornedtruth. "

This last delicate touch, which showed Chalmers that, without the apology, his captain had meant to cut him adrift, _sans_ hesitation, and yetcontained a pretty little compliment to his footer, embarrassed Chalmersmore than a little; but Acton offered his forward tea and muffins, andfive minutes afterwards Chalmers was finding out what a nice fellow Actonreally could be. The next day Chalmers smoothed his ruffled feelings bypiling on three goals against the Fifth, who sneaked off the Acres fivegoals to the bad. This was the first time for ages that Biffen's hadtasted blood, and the news of the victory staggered others besides thevictims. There was quite a flutter among the house captains, and Acton, bythe way, had no more mutinies. 

"Without haste, without rest, " Biffen's captain started his second projectfor the elevation of his house. He had noticed what none of the otherfellows would condescend to see, that two of the despised niggers ofBiffen's were rather neat on the bars. He spent a quarter of an hour oneevening quietly watching the two in the gym, and he went away thoughtful. Singh Ram and Mehtah thereupon each received a polite note, and "couldthey call about seven in Acton's study?" They came, and Acton talked tothem briefly but to the point. When they sought their quarters again theywere beaming, and "Singed" Ram carried a fat book of German physicalexercises under his arm. 

"Am I not coming out strong?" said Acton, laughing to himself, "when I setthe very niggers a-struggling for the greater glory of Biffen's--or is itActon's? Then, there's that exhibition, which we must try to get for thisdouble-superlative house. Raven must beat that Sixth prig Hodgson, thevery bright particular star of Corker's. Would two hours' classics, onalternate nights, meet his case? He shall have 'em, bless him! He shallknow what crops Horace grew on his little farm, and all the other rotwhich gains Perry Exhibitions. Hodgson may strong coffee and wet towel_per noctem_; but, with John Acton as coach, Raven shall upset theapple-cart of Theodore Hodgson. There's Todd in for the Perry, too, Ihear. Hodgson may be worth powder and shot, but I'm hanged if Raven needfear Cotton's jackal! If only half of my plans come off, still that willput Philip Bourne in a tighter corner than he's ever been in before. Therefore--_en avant!_"

CHAPTER V

COTTON AND HIS JACKAL

As I said before, the victory of the despised Biffenites over the FifthForm eleven--a moderate one, it is true--caused quite a little breeze ofsurprise to circulate around the other houses, which had by process oftime come to regard that slack house as hopeless in the fields or in theschools. Over all the tea-tables that afternoon the news was commented onwith full details; how Chalmers had gained in deadliness just as much ashe had lost in selfishness, and how Raven and Worcester had worked likehorses, and mown down the opposition--"Fifth Form opposition!" said thefags, with a lift of the eyebrows--like grass, and as for Biffen's newcaptain, well, if there was one player who could hold a candle to him itmust be Phil Bourne, and he only. 

In the Rev. E. Taylor's house, Cotton senior, who answered to the name of"Jim" among his familiars, and was "Bully Cotton" to his enemies--everyAmorian below the Fifth, and a good sprinkling elsewhere--and AugustusVernon Robert Todd, who was "Gus" to every one, sat at tea together inTodd's room. Cotton had been one of the slain that afternoon on the Acres, and was still in his footer clothes, plus a sweater, which almost came upto his ears. There was a bright fire in the grate, and though Todd's roomwas not decorative compared with most of the other fellows' dens, yet itwas cheerful enough. Cotton had come back from the match hungry and atrifle bruised from a smart upset, only to find his own fire out, andpreparations for tea invisible. Having uttered dire threats against hisabsent, erring fag, he moved into his friend's room, and the two clubbedtogether their resources, and the result was a square meal, towards whichCotton contributed something like 19/20, A. V. R. Todd's share being limitedto the kettle, the water, and the fire. When Cotton had satisfied hisfooter appetite, he turned down his stocking and proceeded vigorously toanoint with embrocation his damaged leg, the pungent scent of the linimentbeing almost ornamental in its strength. 

"How did you get that, Jim?" said Gus, surveying the brawny limb withinterest. 

"Acton brought me down like a house, my boy. "

"Fair?"

"Oh yes; but you've got to go down if he catches you in his swing. "

"You fellows must have played beautifully to let Biffen's mob maul you tothat extent. "

"Gus, my boy, instead of frowsing up here all the afternoon with yourbooks, you should have been on the touch-line watching those Biffenites attheir new tricks. Your opinion then would have a little avoirdupois. As itis, you Perry Exhibit, it is worth exactly nothing. "

"You're deucedly classical to-night, Jim. "

"Oh, I'm sick of this forsaken match and all the compliments we've hadover it. I'm going now to have a tub, and then we'll get that Latin paperthrough, and, thirdly, I'll have the chessmen out. "

"Sony, I can't, Jim, " said Todd, discontentedly. "There is that beastlyPerry Scholarship--I must really do something for that!"

"Thomas Rot, Esq. !" said Cotton. "Haven't you been a-cramming anda-guzzling for that all this afternoon? You've a duty towards your chums, Toddy, so I tell you. "

"That's all very well, Jim, for you, who are going to break some crammer'sheart, and then crawl into the Army through the Militia, but my paterwants me to do something in the Perry, I tell you. "

"Chess!" said Cotton, disregarding Todd's bleat, and then, with a slysmile, he added, "Shilling a game, Gus, and you know you always pull offthe odd one. "

"All right, " said Todd, swallowing the bait with forlorn eagerness; "I'llhave the board set out if you must come in. "

"Oh, I must!" said Cotton, with a half-sneer at Todd's anxiety to pick upa small sum. "Clear the table, and we'll make a snug evening of it. "

Todd's method of clearing a table was novel, if not original. He carriedit bodily into Cotton's room, and then returned with his friend'smahogany, which was undoubtedly more ornamental than his own. 

Acton was absolutely right when he sneeringly called Gus "Cotton'sjackal. " Todd was exactly of the material which makes a good jackal, though he never became quite Jim Cotton's toady. He was a sharp, selfishindividual, good-looking in an aimless kind of way, with a slack, feeblemouth, and a wandering, indecisive glance. He had a quick, shallowcleverness, which could get up pretty easily enough of inexact knowledgeto pass muster in the schools. Old Corker knew his capabilities to a hair, and would now and then, when Gus offered up some hazy, speciousguess-work, blister him with a little biting sarcasm. Todd feared theDoctor as he feared no one else. Todd's chief private moan was that henever had any money. His father was a rich man, but had some ideas whichwere rather rough on his weak-kneed son. He tipped poor Gus as though hewere some thrifty hairdresser's son, and Todd had to try to ruffle it withyoung Amorians on as many shillings as they had crowns. Not a lad who everhad naturally any large amount of self-respect, the little he had soonwent, and he became, while still a fag, a hewer of wood and drawer ofwater to his better-tipped cronies. His destiny finished when, on hisentry into the Fifth, Jim Cotton claimed him, and subsidized him as hisman. 

At the beginning of the term his father had told him that if he could makea good show in the Perry Exhibition there need not be any more grumblingabout his tip. Gus came back to St. Amory's hysterically anxious to cutout all competitors for the Perry, but the shackles of his old serfdomwere still about him. When he showed signs of being restive to the oldclaims, and recommended Cotton to do his own classics and mathematics, Cotton coolly and calmly demanded repayment of sundry loans contracted ofold. Todd had not the pluck to face a term of plain living and highthinking by paying his former patron all he owed him and exhausting allhis present tip by so doing, but flabbily, though discontentedly, cavedin, and became Cotton's jackal as before. 

Cotton was by no means as bad as his endearing name might make you think. He was a tall, heavy fellow, with a large, determined-looking face. He waswonderfully stupid in the schools, but was quite clever enough to know it. He had some good qualities. He was straight enough in all extra-schoolaffairs, did not lie, nor fear any one; kept his word, and expected you tokeep yours. 

"You can't beat Hodgson of the Sixth, Gus, so what is the good of sweatingall the term? Hodgson's got the deuce of a pull over you to start with. "

"I'm not frightened of Hodgson if you wouldn't bother, Jim. "

"Can't do without you, old cock. You're just the fellow to lift my Latinand those filthy mathematics high enough out of the mud to keep the beaksfrom worrying me to death. I tried Philips for a week, but he did suchweird screeds in the 'unseens' that Merishall smelt a rat, and was mostparticular attentive to me, but your leverage is just about my fightingweight. "

Gus had sniffed discontentedly at this dubious compliment; but Cotton hadsmiled stolidly, and continued to use Gus as his classical andmathematical hack. Besides, there was something about Gus's easy-goinglackadaisical temperament which exactly suited Cotton, and he felt for hisgrumbling jackal a friendliness apart from Gus's usefulness to him. 

This afternoon had been a fair sample of Todd's usual half-holiday. Feeling no heart for any serious work for the Perry, he had spent it inreading half a worthless novel, and skimming through a magazine, andfeeling muddled and discontented in consequence. He had the uneasy feelingthat he was an arrant ass in thus fooling time away, but had notsufficient self-denial to seize upon a quiet afternoon for a littlegenuine work. 

Cotton soon returned from his bath, and the two cronies spent about anhour in getting up the least modicum of their classics which would satisfyMerishall; and then they played chess, by which Gus was one florin richer. A third game was in progress, but Todd managed to tip over the board whenhe was "going to mate in five moves. " Cotton thereupon said he had hadenough, but Gus avariciously tried to reconstruct the positions. He faileddismally, and Cotton laughed sweetly. Now Cotton's laugh would almost makehis chum's hair curl, so he retorted pretty sweetly himself, "I say, Jim. I can't get out of my head that awful hammering you fellows got thisafternoon. Think Biffen's lot likely to shape well in the House matches?"

"There's no telling, old man. But if they get moderate luck they'll bewaltzing about in the final. "

"That's absolute blazing idiocy!" said Todd, knocking over more chessmenin his astonishment. 

"All right, Gus. To talk absolute blazing idiocy is my usual habit, ofcourse. They may carry off the final even, but that, perhaps, is a tallorder. "

Todd nursed his astonishment for a full five minutes, whistlingoccasionally, as at some very fantastic idea. At last he said moreseriously: "Aren't you now, Jim, really pulling my leg?"

"No, honour bright! Biffen's are really eye-openers. "

Gus said with infinite slyness: "Look here, I'll bet you evens Biffen's_don't_ pull off the final. "

"Oh, that is rot, Gus, to talk about betting, for you can't pay if youlose. "

Gus had not too much sensitiveness in his character, but this unmeantinsult stung him. 

"You've no right to say that. I've paid all I've ever betted with you. "

Cotton considered heavily in his own mind for a moment. "That is almosttrue, but--"

"Well, what do you mean--" began Todd, in a paddy. 

"All right, " said Cotton; "shut up, confound you! I'll take you. "

"Three quid Biffen's are not cock-house at 'footer. '"

"Done, " said Cotton, unwillingly pulling out his note-book; "and straight, Todd, I shall expect you to pay if you lose. "

"Oh, shut up, Cotton, you cad! I shall pay if I lose, man. What do youwant to keep on insulting me like that for?"

"Steady, Gus. You'll have Taylor up if you howl like that. I meantnothing. "

"Nothing!" said Gus in a fury, seeking for something particularly sweet tosay to his patron. "I jolly well hope, then, that if our house should meet'em in the rounds you will do your little best to put a stopper on theircareer. Don't, for the sake of pulling off your bet, present 'em with afew goals. You 'keep' for our house, you know. "

"Oh, dash it all, Todd, " said Cotton, in a white rage, "you are a bounder!Think I'd sell my side?" he demanded furiously. 

"Ah!" said Gus, delighted at having got through Cotton's skin. "You don'tstomach insults any more than I do. Then why do you ladle them out sojolly freely to me?"

"That was a particularly low one, " said Cotton angrily; "and anyway, youavaricious beggar, you've got thundering good terms, for it is hardlylikely that Biffen's can really be cock-house. There's Corker's house, with Bourne and Hodgson and a few more good men. You're a sight morelikely to see my three sovs, that I am yours. "

"I hope so, " said Gus, with some relief at the anticipation of thispleasant prospect. 

Then the anger of the two simmered down, each having given and receivedsome very choice compliments, and as these little breezes were usualbetween the two, ten minutes afterwards they were amiably entertainingeach other. Cotton was putting up a pair of dumb-bells three hundredtimes, and his crony was counting and criticising his form. The PerryExhibition did not enter Todd's head, but his bet--"such a gilt-edgedone, " he chuckled--was never once out of it. And Todd's bet had somemomentous consequences for him, too. 

CHAPTER VI

THE LAST CAP

While Acton was thus making such strenuous exertions to lift Biffen's outof the mire, Bourne was finding out the whole unpainted beauty of thesituation--as far as it concerned himself. 

The experimental footer elevens were chosen in what, I believe, is theusual manner. The old members of the school eleven formed a committee, andchose fellows to play in the weekly matches, and if any one of them showedspecial talent he was, of course, retained, and by-and-by the captain gavehim his school cap, and he was henceforth a full-blown member of theeleven, with a seat on the committee like any of the old gang. 

There were left of the last year's team five players--Bourne, Mivart, Vercoe, Baines, and Roberts. The final promotion of fellows into theeleven, however, rested with the captain alone, and when he considered anyfellow good enough he signified the same by presenting him with the blueand silver cap of St. Amory. 

The giving away of a cap had become quite a function. Whenever there wasthe rumour that some one was to have a cap after a match, pretty well thewhole school swarmed round the pavilion, and when the new member came outin all the glory of his new blue and silver he got the cheers which hisplay or popularity deserved, and especially did the new member's housedistinguish themselves in the shouting. 

Thus Bourne had six caps at his disposal, and since "Socker" had beenintroduced, the last cap was always given so that when the school playedthe last match--the Carthusians--the eleven would be complete. 

Bourne saw at once the cloud which was rising on the horizon when, at thefirst committee meeting to choose the eleven against "The Cognoscenti"Mivart said, "Well, Bourne, we've got your partner for to-morrow readymade. I think we may put that new chap Acton down right off. "

"Rather, " said Vercoe. "He can't be left out. "

"Best back we've seen for an age-barring Phil, of course, " said Baines. 

"And the others we'll have to fight over, as usual. My choice is Hodgsonfor centre. "

"Too lazy, Roberts. Mine is Chalmers. "

"Rot! He's a winger. "

And so the selection of an eleven against the Cognoscenti went on in theusual old-fashioned style. 

Bourne dropped into my study afterwards and said, gloomily; "On the whole, Carr, had I not better tell the fellows that they may elect Acton for ourschool fixtures, but he cannot have his cap? That will take the bull bythe horns from the beginning. "

"By no means. The other fellows have nothing whatever to do with givingcaps away; that is your business entirely. Besides, who knows? Acton maynot care to play when he knows he cannot get his cap. "

"I'd be agreeably surprised if he didn't. But that won't be his littlegame. Take my word for it, he'll turn out on every blessed occasion, playlike a master of the game, and give us no end of trouble. "

"Perhaps he may. Anyhow, something may turn up between now and the lastmatch--we'll hope so, anyhow; and until the last cap is given away thefellows generally won't spot your little game. "

"'Tis only putting off the evil day, Carr, " said Phil, discontentedly. 

"A good day to put off. "

Thus, when Hodgson was given the first cap, there was the general commentthat he was pretty sure to annex a cap sooner or later, and might as wellhave it soon. Acton's turn--so said the school would come later, thoughBiffen's house sneered. "Of course, Hodgson is in the Sixth. What else buta Sixth Form fellow is wanted in a footer eleven?"

Sharpe's house secured the next two caps, and Biffen's groaned aloud. "Whatever is old Phil about? One might think he was blind in his right eyeand straddled in his left. We'll send him a pair of gig lamps, and thenperhaps he may discover Acton--Acton, of Biffen's. "

The weeks went by, and after a spirited display by Chalmers against theEmeriti, he was given his cap, and for the first time since Biffen's was ahouse they had a man in the eleven. But they gasped as Chalmers came outof the pavilion with his blue and silver cap on his curls. "That assBourne found the house at last, and then he goes and carefully spots thewrong man. Whatever _is_ the matter with him? To pick Chalmers beforeActon! Rot!"

Over tea that night Biffen's bubbled and choked, and the other housesbegan to take a lively interest in the next distribution, for thisconstant passing of Acton was becoming exciting. But still--and I was gladto see it--the school had faith in Phil; they counted on justice beingdone, as it were, in the last laps. No one mentioned a word to him aboutthe intense curiosity and even anxiety that his odd bestowal of caps hadexcited amongst them, for Phil has that way with him that can shut up afellow quicker than you can snap a knife if that fellow is travelling outof bounds. 

However, when Place, of Merishall's, came out of the pavilion a full-blownmember of the school eleven there was a scene. The whole body of fellowsnow thought that the comedy was pretty nearly becoming a tragedy, and theyshowed their feelings unmistakably. Place was cheered by Merishall's, butnot overwhelmingly, and from the other houses there was an ominoussilence. Place, as he trotted out, looked rather puzzled, and a bitundecided how to take his odd reception, and glanced rather helplesslyround at the sea of faces all turned anxiously towards him. There would bepretty nearly seven hundred fellows round the pavilion, for there was noend of excitement. 

"Keep up your pecker, Place! You're all right, anyhow!" shouted some one. 

The other members came out one by one, and were cheered to the echo, andat last Phil came out with Hodgson. He was rather pale, but had his backvery straight. There was a dead silence, and, for the first time since hehad been captain, Phil walked down the steps without a friendly cheer. Ithink even now the old school behaved itself very well--the fellows werenot behind the scenes, and didn't see more than was before their eyes, butthere was not a single word thrown out at Phil. Acton came out withWorcester, and the pity was that he didn't deserve the cheers he got. 

[Illustration: PHIL WALKED DOWN THE STEPS WITHOUT A FRIENDLY CHEER. ]

The week before the Carthusian match there was but one solitary player tobe promoted. The position was back, and every fellow in the place knewthat, bar Bourne himself, there wasn't another man that could hold acandle to Acton there. The committee doggedly, and with meaning, electedthe only player there was to elect, and Acton signified that he waswilling to play. Bourne, as usual, was there, and no one felt more than hethe air of distrust and constraint which hung over the meeting. When Actonwas unanimously elected for back Phil stolidly wrote out the list of theteam and had it pinned up on the notice-board. He had carefully drawn theline in red ink above the last name--Acton's--which showed that thepride of Biffen's was not in the eleven yet. 

Probably Acton on the next day played as well as even he had ever playedin his life, for he was almost impassable, and the crowd of fellowscheered him till they were hoarse. The minute the whistle blew, like oneman the whole school swarmed round the pavilion. The question each askedhimself and his chum was, "Would Acton get the last cap?" And the answerwas, "Why, of course! Who else should have it?"

That afternoon to most of the fellows the eleven seemed an age gettinginto their sweaters and coats. When Acton appeared first, and it was seenthat he was wearing the pink cap of Biffen's on his head there was morethan astonishment, there was consternation. Whatever did it mean? Actonsmiled good-naturedly at the school as they cheered him to the echo, andhurried unconcernedly along. The others of the eleven came out dejectedly, and filed up the hill in gloomy little groups. The whole school waited forPhil, and when he came out, pale and worried, they received him in icysilence. As he was coming down the steps one of Biffen's fags shoutedshrilly, "Three cheers for Acton!"

Phil stalked through the shouting school, and as I joined him and wewalked up together, he said, through his clenched teeth--

"I wish, old man, I had never seen that brute. "

That evening Bourne wrote to Worcester offering him the remaining cap. 

Worcester flew across to Acton's room, and said, "Bourne has offered methe place--the last cap. He must be stark, staring mad!"

"Take it, " said Acton, coolly. 

"No fear, " said Worcester. "We have a stupid kind of prejudice here forhaving the best eleven we can get, and it isn't the best if you're out ofit. Bourne has always been a most impartial fellow up to this date, sothis little occurrence has thrown us off the rails. Before I go toprotest, though, have you any idea what is the matter?"

"He does not consider me fit for the eleven, " said Acton with a lightlaugh, but also with perfect truth. 

"Rot!" said Dick, hurrying away. 

He hunted up the other nine fellows, and said bluntly his business. 

"I vote we all protest to Bourne. A round robin should meet the case. "

"Good, " said Mivart. "Draw one up, Dicky dear. "

Dick in time produced the following:--

"We, the undersigned, think that the St. Amory eleven is incompletewithout John Acton, of Biffen's house, and, consequently, that he ought tohave the last cap; and we would beg the captain to offer it him unlessthere be very good reasons for not doing so. We would suggest that if JohnActon isn't to have the cap he be told the reason. The undersigned do notwish in the smallest degree to prejudice the right of the captain toselect members for the eleven, but think that in the present case thewithholding of a cap from John Acton inexplicable. "

"You're a ready scribe, Dick, " said Chalmers. "We may all sign that, eh?"

"Yes, " said Worcester. "I first, because I am undeservedly offered thecap, and the rest of you in order of membership. "

No one saw any objection to signing Dick's memorandum, and forthwith, withall legal formality, the round robin was signed by the ten, and sent toPhil by Dick's fag with orders to wait for an answer. 

It came within five minutes. 

 "DEAR WORCESTER, I have no intention of offering John Acton a place in the St. Amory's football eleven. There are good reasons for not doing so, and I have already told Acton the reasons. Please let me know whether you accept the vacant place I had the pleasure of offering you. Yours sincerely, PHILIP BOURNE. "

This was a thunderbolt among the fellows. Then Acton knew!

Worcester posted back to Acton, lost in amazement. 

"Look at this, Acton!"

Acton carefully read Bourne's letter, and Dick, who was watching himanxiously, saw him bite his lips with rage; for Phil's icy contempt stoodout in every word of the letter. 

"He says you know why you are not in the eleven. "

Acton knew that he would have to explain something, or else Bourne wouldwin the day yet. So he said--

"That is true. He told me so at the beginning of the season, but, ofcourse, I never bargained for his keeping his word; and when you hear thereason he gave me--if this is his reason--you'll gasp. "

"Well, " said Dick, "although I've no right to ask you, I'd like to hearthe plain, unvarnished tale, for, speaking out, Phil Bourne has alwayspassed for a decent, level fellow. This business, somehow, doesn't seemhis form at all, and it is only fair to him to say it. "

"Did you see the match we had with Shannon's scratch team when the termbegan?"

"I did. "

"Did you notice anything about my play?"

"You opened our eyes a bit, I remember. "

"Did I play roughly?"

"No. Not quite that! You were not gentle; but you aren't that as a rule, though your game is fair enough. "

"Not for Bourne. He doesn't like my game. I'm too rough. It's bad form, _pace_ Bourne, therefore I'm barred my place in the eleven. "

"Is that the explanation?"

"Yes. Honour bright! Except"--Acton paused diplomatically for amoment--"except, I don't think he likes me. "

"Then Phil is a fool, and he'll find out pretty speedily that we can'tstand rot of this quality. I, of course, can't take the cap. "

"My dear fellow, why in the world not? If you don't, some other house willget it. Biffen's deserves two fellows in the eleven this year. "

"They do, by Jove!"

"Then let us have the satisfaction of keeping out another Corker fellow. "

Dick told the other fellows plainly and without any gilding, hisconversation with Acton, and they pressed him to go and see Philpersonally; so Dick marched heavily to Bourne's quarters. 

"Sorry, Worcester, but I cannot explain anything. Not even to you. But Ido hope you'll come into the eleven. "

Dick said shortly, "I think I shall, for Biffen's deserves the other cap, though the right fellow isn't getting it. By the way, Bourne, you'll notbe very sweet to the school generally after this. They--the fellows--to aman, are no end cut up over Acton's treatment. "

"I supposed they would be. I knew it would be so. "

"Look here, Phil. You always did the square thing. Let us have the reasonfor this, " said Dick, earnestly. 

"Sorry, Worcester, I can't. "

"Good night, then. "

"Good night. "

The rage and consternation of the Biffenites when they found that Bournewas immovable in his decision can be imagined. Some were inclined to takethe matter up to Corker's throne, but they were a miserable minority. 

"Let Corker have a finger in our own private affairs!" said Dick, withintense disgust. "What next, gentlemen? We won't be able to blow our ownnoses without his permission. Keep the masters out of this, whatever wedo. Can't we see the thing through ourselves? I vote we try, anyhow. "

Some were inclined to blame Dick for accepting the cap; but prettygenerally it was agreed that, if Acton was not to have it, Dick was thenext best man, but at what a distance! The honour of having two men in theeleven was no _solatium_ for the wounded pride of Biffen's, when theyconsidered their great injury. The reason, though, was, naturally, whatpuzzled them--and, for the matter of that, the whole school. Did Bourneexpect his team to play footer as though it were a game of croquet? Weredrawing-room manners to be introduced on to the Acres' clay? Were thefamous eleven of St. Amory's to amble about, like a swarm ofbread-and-butter misses? One wit suggested wadded coats and respirators. Acton rough, indeed! Phil Bourne must be an embodiment of his grandmother, then! Most of the fags in Biffen's house sent Phil elaborate instructionsfor "a nice drawing-room game to take the place of 'Socker'football--nasty, rough 'Socker' footer--for one-and-six, and guaranteedto do no injury to the most delicate constitution. A child can play it!"These letters were anonymous, of course; but Biffen's house-paper wasfreely used. "Anyhow, " said Phil, with a gentle smile to me, "the spellingis obviously Biffen's. "

Acton went on his own way, serenely indifferent to his house, which wouldhave made a god of him on the smallest provocation. He cheerfully ignoredBourne, and he had the art of never seeing Phil when they met, in schoolor out, though, of course, Phil minded this not at all. When theCarthusians were played, Acton spent the afternoon reading with Raven, whose exam, was now very near; and, whilst the two were grinding out allthe absurd details of Horace and his patron, "and the poet's little farm, and the other rot which gains Perry Exhibitions, " the shouts and cheersof the school down at the Acres came floating up the hill to their room. 

The school lost their match with the Carthusians--the match which a goodSt. Amorian would rather win than any two others--and it was plain thatDick, though a useful fellow, could not bottle up the forwards in theActonian style. This defeat was the last straw to break the back of theschool's patience. 

It was customary, after the Carthusian match, for the footer captain togive his eleven a formal tea, Phil arranged the usual preliminaries, sickat heart, and wearily certain as to the result. Three put in anappearance--Vercoe, Baines, and Roberts--and in place of the burly formsof the rest of the St. Amory's eleven, the sylph-like figures of theirfags flitted to Phil's hall of entertainment with curt little notes. Worcester and the rest "regretted they were unable to avail themselves ofthe captain's invitation. "

The tea was not a success. 

The school followed the plain lead of the eleven, and as Phil hurriedalong to chapel the next day no one hooked in with him, as had been done"the day before yesterday!" He was left severely alone. 

In plain words, St Amory's School consigned Phil Bourne to Coventry. 

CHAPTER VII

THANKS TO ACTON

After the Carthusian match there was but one topic, or to be strictlyaccurate, perhaps, two topics of interest in the school--who would becock-house at footer and who would get the Perry Exhibition. 

The rest of the houses knew that Biffen's house was not now theunconsidered article it was once; that it wasn't the door-mat upon whichany one might wipe his feet before proceeding into the inner circles ofthe housers' competition, and there was more than a little curiosity tosee how far the "resurrected" house would mount. 

But not a single soul dreamt that it would reach the final. The wholeschool gasped for a fortnight on end as Biffen's annihilated Dover's, Hargen's, Sharpe's, and Merishall's _seriatim_, and at last facedCorker's house in the final. This was a resurrected house with avengeance! Corker's had had a bye in the first round and had been drawnagainst rather rickety houses since, but they were generally fancied topull off the final as usual, for Bourne was captain, and they had Hodgsonand Roberts of the eleven as well. The wonderful progress of Biffen's hadthrown an awful lot of excitement into the game. 

The match was fixed for the last Saturday in the term, and the result ofthe Perry Exhibition was to be announced on the evening of the same day, so the last Saturday was going to be the memorable day of the Michaelmasstretch. 

If you want a full account of the match you had better write to the editorof _The Amorian_. He will send you the magazine with a page or so ofdescription and account, but all I'm going to say is that Bourne and Actonplayed as they had never played before--I think I've said that beforeabout Acton, but he really was superlative in the housers' final--and thatfive minutes from time the score was "one all. " Then Acton showed theschool a stroke of genius. He brought Raven out from centre-forward, wherehe was quite unable to cope with Bourne, whispered him to go "back" withWorcester, and before any one could realize what was happening he wasplaying forward himself. He' was a "lambent flame along the ground" if youlike. In a second Biffen's were swarming round Roberts in goal, Actonpassed out to Chalmers, who was ready for the pass, and in a twinkling theball was in the net. From the row you might have imagined the school hadgone mad. 

[Illustration: ACTON JUST REACHED IT WITH HIS HEAD. ]

The ball was kicked off again. Almost immediately Acton secured near thecentre. He dribbled through the ruck of his opponents until he saw Bourneupon him. With a smile of triumph upon his lips he gently rolled theleather to Chalmers, who was hungrily waiting for the pass out on thetouch-line. Chalmers waltzed beautifully for the short run almost to thecorner flag. He steadied himself for one instant after his run, and thenlifted the ball magnificently into the goal mouth. As the leather wasskimming past, Acton just reached it with his head and deflected it highand dry out of Roberts' reach into the net. It was the supreme effortof his splendid game. 

Biffen's had won by three goals to one!

They carried Acton off the field in ecstasy, and nearly scared Dame Biffenout of her wits by the "whisper" of "cock-house. " Well, it certainly wasunusual. 

After tea the whole of St. Amory's crowded into the Speech Room to hearthe result of the Perry Exhibition. There would not be a fellow away, Ishould fancy, bar the cripples in the hospital, for there was no end ofexcitement. Was this to be another Biffen's triumph? Was Raven of theFifth to beat Hodgson, the chosen of the Sixth, for the Perry? It was notto be expected that he would, but when the whisper circled round thatActon had '"coached" him in classics it was agreed that perhaps therewould be another feather in Acton's cap. 

The masters were there on the platform in serried ranks, the whole fiftyof them, from Corker to Pfenning who "does" the music. 

Corker, as usual, went straight to the mark, whilst the entire mass offellows kept a death-like silence. "The result of the examination for thePerry Exhibition is as follows:--

 1st. Arthur Raven, 672 marks. 2nd. Theodore Hodgson, 591 marks. 3rd. Augustus Vernon Robert Todd, 114 marks. "

Then out broke the usual uproar, "shivering the silence, " as some onesays, "into clamour. " We all cheered for Raven, who scored a popular andunexpected victory, for why should a Fifth Form fellow beat one of theSixth? Biffen's crowd kept up the cheering until Corker rose again. 

"I can heartily congratulate Raven on his success, for his classicalknowledge was distinctly good. Hodgson I can also congratulate, for hispapers too were good. As for Augustus Vernon Robert Todd"--we all yelledwith laughter as Dr. Moore scrambled in hot haste through Todd's awfullist of names, but were again quiet when he dropped his eye-glasses fromhis eagle's beak, a sure sign he was going to "savage" somebody--"as for_his_ performance in this _examination_, I can only regard it asa very bad practical joke, or as his _ballon d'essai_ for somekindergarten scholarship. "

Raven got up from his seat near the door. He was pale to the lips, but hisvoice was clear and unhesitating. "If you please, sir, may I say a word?"

"Eh, what?" said Corker. "Say a word? Oh, certainly. "

"I am very glad indeed to hear that I have won the Perry Exhibition. Iknow in my own mind that I could never have beaten my friend Hodgson if Ihad not had Acton's help. I owe the winning of the Exhibition entirely tohim, for he has read the whole of the classics with me and helped me inevery way in his power. I cannot thank him enough for all he has done, butat least I owe him this open acknowledgment. "

Corker looked no end pleased, and turned round and beamed on Biffen, whosegood-natured easy face shone with pleasure and delight. 

"Biffen, " said good old Corker, audibly, "your house is fortunate inhaving Acton, and St. Amory such a good amateur coach in classics. Cock-house, too, bless me!"

And can you wonder that Biffen's, frenzied with delight, carried Raven andActon shoulder high through the gas-lit streets?

Whilst the Biffenites were thus shouting their way home, one unhappy youthhurried to his room feeling as though the moon had fallen out of heavenand crushed him--Todd. After that night when he had made the bet withCotton, he had neither worked for the Perry nor yet left it alone, butloafed about with Cotton as usual, and piffled with the work for theExhibition. As a last-lap spurt, he had, in the last week or so, desperately stuffed himself with cunning tips leading twistingly tonowhere. Never had any one faced a serious examination with such a rag-bagof tips as Todd, and the examination had found him out with a vengeance. As he slunk along to his quarters, Corker's words were buzzing in his earsunendingly. "As for Augustus Vernon Robert Todd"--"_ballond'essai_"--"Kindergarten!" Oh! it was a sickener, and how the fellows hadlaughed!

As for his bet with Cotton about cock-house, why, he had, when he sawthose goals put on at the last moment, felt a cold shiver run down hisback. He had crawled off the Acres a sick and sorry and miserable wretch. Cotton had, being rather riled at his chum's temper for the last month, hinted, in unmistakable terms, that the debt was to be paid on returnafter holidays. Todd contemplated the ravishing prospect of the futurewith unmixed feelings. Between the upper and nether millstones of the lostExhibition and the lost bet he had been crashed, annihilated!

When he had shut the study door, in sheer despair of spirit, he laid hishead on the table and--Well, did he blub? All I know is, the Rev. E. Taylor knocked at the door once, twice, thrice, and Todd heard him not. The house master came in and surveyed the bowed form of poor Gus with agood-natured smile, tempered with some scorn. He took the liberty ofloudly poking Gus's decaying fire, whereat the young gentleman sprang upinstanter. 

"I knocked, Todd, but I suppose you were thinking too deeply to hear me. "

"Sorry, sir, " said Gus, hurriedly getting the master a chair, "and, as amatter of fact, I was thinking. "

"Yes!"

"What an awful ass I've been, sir!" "I don't know quite about the ass, butyou've certainly not been an epitome of all that's wise this term. It wason that very subject that I came here to have a word with you before we gofor the holidays. "

Gus looked blankly into the grate. 

"This exhibition of yours, Todd, in the examination is just the answer youmight expect to the problem you've set yourself. 'How can I get somethingof value by doing nothing for it?' I must say. .. Etc. " Taylor spoke verymuch to the point to Todd for about half an hour, taking the ribs out ofGus's conceit one by one, until he felt very much like a damp, damagedgamp, and about as helpless. One by one he took him through the catalogueof the aimless, stupid, footling performances in the term, and Gus blanklywondered how the dickens Taylor knew quite so much of his doings, He feltthat the house master was not a bad imitation of Corker on a flayingexpedition. I must say that Taylor's performance was a considerable trifleabove the average "beak's wigging, " but the sting of his discourse was inthe tail. "Now, Todd, would you like me to ask Dr. Moore to transfer youto some other house, where your very intimate friends will not absorb somuch of your time?"

Todd blushed purple at this very broad hint. 

"I'd rather stay where I am; I am not quite an incapable, sir. "

"No; I don't think you are--not quite. Dr. Moore, however, is somewhat outof patience with you, and proposes drastic measures. "

"Home?" inquired Todd, with gloomy conviction. 

"Yes, " said the house master. "Dr. Moore has written your father. But youare coming back next term, when you will have the chance of showing thatthat awful performance in the Exhibition is not your true form. I hopeyou'll take it. "

Todd said bitterly, "I will, sir. "

"I am glad of that, " said Taylor, "and I believe you will. Good night, Todd. "

"Good night, sir. "

Todd packed up his portmanteaux that night as gloomily and as savagely asthough his shirts were his deadly enemies. But there was a square, determined thrust-out of his weak chin which boded ill for Jim Cotton'sclassics and mathematics in the future. 

CHAPTER VIII

BIFFEN'S CONCERT

It was the inalienable right of the juniors of the cock-house to give aconcert the last night of the term, and to have free and undisputedpossession of the concert-room. Corker made it a rule that the captain ofthe school should be there to see there were no riots, which, as the fagswere off home on the morrow, was more than possible. So when I got apolite note from Grim about half an hour after the results of the PerryExhibition had been announced, telling me that Corker had given thecustomary consent, I strolled about looking up a cohort of monitors tohelp me in maintaining the "sacred cause of order and decency. " I knew ofold those junior concerts. "Pandemonium" was nearer the word. 

Biffen's juniors, red-hot from their exertions and hoarse from theirshouting in the speech-room, held a meeting in their own private quartersto deliberate as to their concert. 

"I vote Father Grim to the chair, " said Wilson. 

"Thanks, my son, " said Grim, with alacrity "Somebody second that, andlet's get to business. "

Somebody obligingly seconded, and Grim enthroned himself with dignity inthe chair, and said cheerfully, "Carried _nem. Con. _ That's the wayto commence biz. Now, you fellows, I thank you for this unexpected honour, which has quite taken me by surprise. I shall always--"

"Shut up, Grim, " said Brown. "You know jolly well you asked Wilson topropose you. "

"All right, Brown; I'll talk with you afterwards. Sorry your Roman nose isout of joint; but nobody proposed you, you know, so shut up. Gentlemen--"

"Hear, hear!"

"Biffen's are cock-house at last" (deafening cheers) "and we must make ourconcert a stunner. It must go with a bang from start to finish. It mustlick every other fag's concert that ever was, and 'be the bright harbingerof--' What is the rest of the quote, Wilson?"

"'Of future joys, ' you ass. "

"'Of future joys, ' you asses. "

"I'll punch your head, Grim; you said you remembered it. "

"All serene, old man, never mind the cackle. "

"What about our concert?" asked Brown. 

"It's going to be great. Does any one happen to have a programme of thatawful performance of Corker's house last year?"

"Rather!" said half a dozen of Biffen's ornaments. "Did you think we'dburn a curiosity like that?"

"Cut out and get yours, Rogers, my pet. "

"My pet" bolted and came back with the year-old programme of the Corker'sfags. 

"Pass the abomination this way, Rogers. Gentlemen, " said Grim, withintense scorn, "those unspeakable Corker asses started off with aprologue. "

"We must go one better--eh, you fellows?" said Rogers. 

"Rather!" they all shrieked. 

"I vote, " said young Cherry, "that we lead off with an epilogue. That willleave 'em standing. "

"Hear, hear!" said Fruity. 

"Who'll second that?" said Grim. 

"I will, " said Rogers, cheerfully. 

"Then do it, you ass, " said the chairman. 

"I second, " said Rogers, hurriedly, "and you needn't be so beastly strict, Grim. "

"Gentlemen, the proposal before the meeting is that we lead off with anepilogue. Item number one on the programme to be 'An Epilogue. ' Those infavour signify. Carried unanimously. "

"I say, Grim, what is an epilogue, anyhow?" said a voice. 

"Oh, I say, " said the chairman, "pass that young ignoramus this way. Lamb, do you mean to say you don't know what an epilogue is?"

"No, I don't. "

"This is sickening, " said Grim, with disgust. "A fellow in Biffen's notknow what an epilogue is! Tell him, Fruity, " he added, with patheticvexation. 

"He asked you, " said Cherry, hurriedly. 

"I'm the chairman, " said Grim, in a wax, but with great relief. "Explainaway, Fruity!"

"Oh, every first-class concert starts with one, " he said vaguely. 

"See now, Lamb?"

Lamb professed himself satisfied, but he did not appear absolutely blindedby the light either. 

"Anyhow, " said Wilson, "Fruity will see to that. I propose he does. "

"I second it, " said Lamb, viciously, whereupon Cherry kicked the seconderon the shins, for he did not exactly thirst for that honour. "I'm anass, " he said to himself; "but, anyhow, I'll look up what the blessed worddoes mean, and try to do it. "

"I see, " said Grim, "they've got a poem on 'Cock House' for number two. That seems all right, eh?"

"Oh yes; it's always done. "

"Well, we'll have one too, eh? Who's got to do the poetry, though?Somebody propose somebody"--thereupon every fag proposed his chiefestenemy, and the battles raged along the line. "And you call yourselvesgentlemen!" said Grim in disgust--he had been overlooked for the timebeing. 

"I propose Sharpe, " said Wilson, dusting himself. "He does no end swellconstrues from 'Ovid. '"

"I second that, " said Rogers. "He has long hair. Poets always have. Miltonhad. "

"That bit is _side, _" said the chairman, judicially. "Those who arein favour of Sharpe doing the poetry hold--Carried, _nem. Con. _"

"_Nem. Con_. Is side too, Grim, " said Rogers. 

"Shut up, you mule! Sharpe, you'll have to do the poem. "

"I say, you fellows, it will be horse work, " said Sharpe, disconsolately. "There isn't a rhyme to Biffen's. "

"Oh! isn't there? What about 'spiffing'?"

Sharpe choked. 

"Griffin. "

"Tiffin. "

Lamb squeaked out "stiff 'un, " and some one gently led him out--evenBiffen's fags caved in at that. 

"Sharpe, you're booked for number two, old man. Gentlemen, I direct yourattention to number three--Corker's did Indian clubs and the gold-fishdodge. "

"Oh, well, " said Wilson, "we're not going to copy Corker's, anyhow. Let'sdo dumb-bells and something else. "

"I propose that Wilson does the something else, " said Cherry, good-naturedly. 

Wilson said he was ready to do something to Cherry any time that wasconvenient. Rogers suggested that they ask the niggers to do something onthe bars, and Sharpe seconded it, so the dervishes were written to andpromised a scragging if they didn't turn themselves inside out for theglory of Biffen's concert. 

"I say, you fellows, " said Grim, "it's to be a concert, you know, andexcept for Fruity's epilogue there isn't any music down yet. " Cherrygroaned to think he'd been let in for a song. 

"What about Thurston?" asked half a dozen of the fags. 

"Right, oh! Now, 'Dicky Bird, ' hop up to the front, and trot out yourlist. "

Thurston wasn't shy, and rather fancied his bleat, so he said, "Oh! Idon't mind at all. "

"We thought you wouldn't, " said the chairman, winking. 

"What do you say to 'Alice, where art thou'?"

"We don't fancy your shouting five minutes for her at all. Next, please. "

"'Only to see her face again, ' then?"

"Whose?" said Sharpe, irreverently. 

"Why, the girl's the fellow is singing about, " said Thurston, hotly. 

"Oh! you'll see her the day after to-morrow, Dicky Bird, so don't you fretabout that now. Do you know 'My first cigar'?"

"Do you mean the one that sent you to hospital, Grimmy?"

"No I don't. None of your cheek. I'm chairman. I mean the one Corney Grainused to sing. "

"Yes. "

"Well, you sing that and you'll make the fellows die with laughing. Andmind you illustrate it with plenty of life-like pantomime, do you hear?"

"Carried, _nem. Con_. , " shouted all the fags with enthusiasm. 

"Hear, hear, Grimmy!"

"So that's settled for you, and if you get an encore, Dicky Bird, you cantrot 'Alice' out if you like. "

"Which of the fellows have we to invite out of the eleven to help us?"

"Acton, " was the universal yell. 

"We'll see him, then, to-night. "

"Three cheers for Acton, " said someone, and the roof echoed. 

"Well, we're getting on, and I say, you chaps, I have an idea. "

"Hear, hear!" said Cherry, acidly; "Grimmy _has_ an idea. "

"A grand idea, Fruity. Your epilogue isn't in it. "

"What is it, Grim?"

"We'll have a boxing competition open to St. Amory's juniors only. Rogersshould pull that off, eh?"

"Rather, " said they all. "One more feather in Biffen's cap. ". 

"But, Grimmy, " said Rogers, "I don't last, you know. "

"Ah!" said the chairman, brilliantly, "we'll only have one two-minutes'round each draw. It will go by points. You're safe as a house, my pet, really. "

"Who'll be judge about points? I propose you, Grim, " said Rogers, withintent. 

"Thanks, old cock, but I really couldn't do the honourable if you were'rocky' in the last rounds. We'll ask Carr to see us through that part. You'll be all right, I tell you. "

"Who's to accompany on the P and O?"

"Oh, Brown must see to that!"

"I propose Brown key-thumper. "

"I second that. "

"Carried, " said the chair, smartly. 

"I say, " said Grim, "I propose myself stage manager. I'm the only fellowwho knows a ha'porth about it. "

"A ha'porth is an awful lot; besides, a chairman can't propose himself, "said Cherry, revengefully. 

"I second the chairman's proposal, " said Wilson, backing up his chum. 

"Carried, _nem. Con_. "

"No, I'm hanged if it was!" said Cherry. "You're a fraud, Grimmy. "

"All right now, you chaps, the meeting is over. Wilson and I will go up toActon, and see what he'll do for us, and then we'll rough out a swaggerprogramme. "

CHAPTER IX

THE END OF TERM

The two worthies, Grim and Wilson, after seeing Acton, began to get outtheir programme. Here it is:--

 BIFFEN'S JUNIORS' CONCERT. 

 _Cock House, December, 1898. _

 (1) Epilogue. B. A. M. CHERRY. 

 (2) Poem on the subject of Cock House. B. SHARPE. 

 (3) Bar Act. 

 (4) First Round Junior Boxing Competition. PRINCE RUNJIT MEHTAH and RAM SINGH. 

 (5) SONG. "My First Cigar. " R. E. THURSTON. 

 (6) PIANOFORTE SOLO. "Oh! listen to the band. " O. BROWN. 

 (7) Second Round Boxing. 

 (8) SONG. "Jim. " J. ACTON, ESQ. 

 (9) Third and Concluding Rounds Boxing. 

 (10) SONG. "Well, suppose you did?" R. E. THURSTON. 

 GOD SAVE THE QUEEN. 

 ACCOMPANIST O. E. BROWN. _Trinity College (by Examination). _

 STAGE MANAGER W. E. GRIM. 

 N. B. --The Manager begs to state that there will be no Latin or classical allusions throughout the evening. No waits. No charge for programmes. No antediluvian jokes. 

This was printed on paper blushing pink--Biffen's colours--and Grim andWilson, when they got the advance proof last thing on Saturday night, almost embraced in their jubilation. There was such a swagger look aboutthe "N. B. "

Meanwhile B. A. M. Cherry had consulted his dictionary, and therein foundthat an "epilogue" was defined as "a concluding speech in an oration orplay. " He broke into a cold sweat of horror. That was an epilogue, then!Where could he find one? What would be the good of one if he did find it?And supposing he had one and could recite it, it was at the wrong end ofthe programme--the programme which had already been printed in such hothaste? It was too late to tell Grim, who would have instantly summoned allthe strength of Biffen's to scrag him. The wretched Cherry shuddered athis awful plight. 

Nothing could he do or dare he do. In desperation he determined to fallill on the concert night. B. A. M. Cherry hadn't the heroic soul, and whenGrim asked him cheerfully how the epilogue was going on, he said"spiffing, " in the tone of a martyr at the stake. 

On the Monday Grim scuttled about all day--now on the stage, listening toThurston going over his songs with Brown, now getting entries for hisboxing competition, now encouraging Sharpe, who was in the throes ofcomposition, and now criticizing the Dervishes with much force. Acton putin an appearance in the concert-room, and gave Brown the accompaniment to"Jim;" and, after hearing him play it through, went and read his novel therest of his spare time. 

At 7. 30 the juniors of St. Amory's began to stroll in, Biffen's lotcollaring the front seats as per custom. The programmes were distributedto each one as he came in, and created no end of sensation, and W. E. Grimwas allowed to have come out very strong in the programme line. St. Amory's fags did not spot anything wrong about item one, but the olderfellows chuckled a little and said "the manager was a funny ass. " Thisopinion was instantly conveyed to Grim by one of his cronies, and madethat young gentleman think himself no end of a sly dog. 

Punctually to the minute Grim rang his bell, and, darting into thedressing-room, said, "Now, Cherry, come along with your epilogue, They'reall waiting. Where is that ass?"

"Cherry has not turned up yet, Grim. "

"What?" he said in horror. 

"Not turned up yet!"

"I'll go and fetch the beggar at once. "

Grim darted out of the room, tore along the street, and was hammering atCherry's door within the minute. 

"Fruity, hurry up, they're all waiting. "

"I'm not well, Grim. "

"What?"

"I'm not well--I'm in bed. "

"You miserable beast!" shouted Grim. "I'll massacre you. You'll make usthe laughing stock of the whole school. Get up, man, Be a man. "

"I'm ill, " moaned Cherry from within. 

"You miserable beast! You'll be dead to-morrow. " He shook the doorviolently, but Cherry was not quite the utter fool Grim took him for, forhe had locked the door. Grim stood outside on the corridor for someseconds, petrified with rage and disgust, and then flew like a madman backto the concert-room. He cannoned up against some one leisurely strollingup to the dressing-room, and was darting on again _sans_ apology. Ahand gently closed upon his collar and pulled him back. 

"Hallo, young shaver! Little boys used to apologize when they--Why, it's Grim! What in the name----"

Grim, almost blubbing with anger and shame, poured out his tale, and Actonlistened with an amused smile. "Sheer funk, Grim. Well, go on, and tell'em their Cherry has rotted, but that I'll come and tell 'em a little taleinstead. "

Grim would have embraced Acton if he'd been a little taller, but hegurgled, "Acton, you _are_ a brick, " and darted on to the stage. 

He was received with deafening cheers, and shrieks of "No waits!""Manager!" "Don't hurry, Grim!" "We'll send out for supper!" "We wantCherry!" "Go off, " etc. 

When Grim could get a word in he panted, "Gentlemen, I am sorry to sayB. A. M. Cherry is indisposed and cannot favour you with the epilogue. "

"Funked it!" roared all the delighted juniors. 

"He says he is unwell, " said Grim, anger getting the better of him, "buthe'll be a jolly sight worse in the morning. "

There was a hurricane of thunderous cheers at this sally, but Grim managedto shout above the laughing, "I have great pleasure in announcing thatJohn Acton, Esq. , will take Fruity's--I mean Cherry's--place and tell youa little tale; even Corker fags will understand it, " added Grim, viciously. 

Acton came on and received his hearty welcome with easy good nature. Heplunged right into his contribution: "A London cabby's account of hisdifferent fares"--from the double-superfine gilt-edged individual to thefat old dowager who _will_ have the parrot inside with her. Actongave it perfectly. Grim, who had his ears glued to the exit door, vowed hecould almost hear the swell drop his eyeglass. 

Sharpe stepped on to the stage amid the polite attentions of his naturalenemies. "Be a man, Sharpe. " "Don't cry. " "You'll see mamma soon. " "Speakup. " "He did it all alone, remember. " "No help. " "Oh, dear no!"

 "When on the bosom of the sleeping pool, That's shaded o'er by trees in greenest dress, Upon its breast of snow its gem of gold The water lily swims--"

The juniors howled with dismay at this commencement, and Corker juniorsinstantly began to keep time to Sharpe's delivery in the organ-grinder'sfashion. But Sharpe toiled remorselessly on. He compared Biffen's house toa water lily growing in a muddy pond, and again as a Phoenix risen fromthe ashes; and he gave us, with circumstantial details, every round of thefooter housers, their two eleven caps, and the Perry Exhibition, anddarkly hinted at Acton's exclusion from the eleven. 

He wound up his awful farrago in one glorious burst of solemn fury--

 "And even Fate girds on her sword, and her right arm she stiffens, As thunders to the icy pole the glorious name of Biffen's. "

When Sharpe finally made his bow, according to the invariable custom, every junior except a Biffenite imitated with rare fidelity the mixedsensations of channel passengers after a stormy passage. 

Sharpe, cheered to the echo by the Biffenites on the front row, wentproudly off. 

The Dervishes were received with enthusiasm, and went through theirperformance to the shouts of "Well wriggled, Java!" "Why don't you oil!""Do it again--orang-outang!" They amiably smiled acknowledgments as theybacked away. 

Then I myself stepped on to the stage, prepared to judge the two-minutes'rounds. Grim had whipped up sixteen fags, each willing to do battle forthe honour of his house. The rounds proceeded to the accompaniment ofear-splitting encouragement, and I had the satisfaction of knowing thatnot a solitary one of the defeated heroes thought he had really beenbeaten on points. 

No mistake about it, Biffen's had a fag who could sing. Thurston's "MyFirst Cigar" only lacked one thing--it should have lasted a little longerto suit the audience. 

 "She called it an Intimidad, It had spots of a yellowish hue, She said the best brands always had, And I firmly believed it was true. "

A good number of the fellows knew "The Soldiers in the Park, " and Brownhammered it out in a good old breezy style. 

As he was racing home, and the jolly chorus was crashing out from thepiano, one fag started "Oh, listen to the band!"

Instantly the whole school, juniors and seniors as well, joined in thechorus, keeping time with their feet. 

 "Oh, listen to the band! Who doesn't love to hark To the shout of 'Here they come' And the banging of the drum-- Oh, listen to the soldiers in the park. "

When the dust had settled, every one acknowledged that Biffen's concertwas going with a bang. I am not going to bore you with a longer account ofBiffen's concert. Thurston sang "Alice, where art thou?" the fellowstelling him between the verses that "She wasn't going to come, " "Spoonysongs barred, " etc. , and Rogers carried off the fags' boxing competitionwith a big rush in the final round, and Biffen's crew howled with delight. 

Finally the bell rang for Acton's song. Brown rattled through thepreliminary bars, and the song commenced. The singer held himself slightlyforward, in a rather stiff and awkward fashion, and his eyes were staringintently into vacancy. There was not the shadow of a shade of anyexpression in his face. A feeling of pity for Acton was the universalsensation when the first words fell from his lips. Acton had not the ghostof a singing voice, and the school shuddered at the awful exhibition. There was an icy silence, but Acton croaked remorselessly on. This is thesong:--

 "Jim and I as children played together, Best of chums for many years were we; I had no luck--was, alas! a Jonah; Jim, my chum, was lucky as could be. Oh, lucky Jim! How I envied him!

 "Years rolled by, and death took Jim away, boys, Left his widow, and she married me; Now we're married oft I think of Jim, boys, Sleeping in that churchyard by the sea. Oh, lucky Jim! How I envy him!"

As the words followed on there was a suggestion of oddity in that awfulvoice singing a comic song, and there were a few suppressed laughs at theidea. As the song progressed, the utter dreary weariness of the voice, andthe rather funny words, compelled the fellows to laugh in uncontrollablebursts; but still Acton never turned a hair. When he arrived at thechurchyard lines there was one universal howl of delight. Brown stoppeddead at the end of the second last line, and Acton stopped dead too. Instantly all the fellows became as mute as fish. The singer straightenedhimself up, looked round the room with a mocking smile while one mightcount a dozen, and then winked to Brown, who recommenced softly on thepiano. Then Acton _sang_ slowly and deliberately--sang with a voiceas clear and as tunable as a silver bell--

 "Oh, lucky Jim! How I envy him!"

His croak was a pretence--he had hoaxed us all! Before we recovered fromour stupefaction he had vanished. The school clamoured for his return, but though they cheered for three minutes on end Acton did not reappear, and Brown struck up "God save the Queen!" Biffen's concert was at an end!

Grim held a five minutes' meeting among the Biffenites before bed. 

"There's never been a fellow like Acton in St. Amory's. He goes away atnine to-morrow. The Great Midland are going to stop their express to pickup St. Amory fellows, and Acton goes up to his place by that. I vote weall go in a body to the station and cheer him off. We keep it dark, ofcourse. " This _staccato_ oration was agreed to with acclamation, andBiffenites went to bed happy. 

On the morrow Acton strolled into the station and espied the Biffenites, who were scattered up and down the platform with careful carelessness. The train came in, and at once the juniors crowded _en masse_ roundthe carriage in which Acton had secured a corner seat, and stood talkingto Grim, who was in fine feather. 

At that very moment Phil Bourne and young Jack Bourne bustled into thestation. An idea struck Rogers, and he said to all his chums, "Here'sBourne, you fellows; let him know we see him. "

The fags were delighted, and when Bourne entered the carriage nextActon's there was a long-drawn-out hoot for his especial benefit. 

"Another, " said Rogers, whereat more soulful groans. 

"The last, " said Rogers, and Bourne took his seat to a chorus of hissesand tortured howls. He smiled a little and opened his paper, while thepeople in the carriage looked curiously at him. 

The guard's whistle went and Acton sprang in. "Good-bye. "

As the train moved, Grim said, "Three cheers for Acton!"

"Hip, hip, hurrah! Hip, hip, hurrah!"

"A groan for Bourne!" Acton smiled good naturedly to his henchmen. As heglided past he said to himself softly, "And yet I have not quite hoed allmy row out either, Bourne. Wait, my friend, wait!"

[Illustration: AS THE TRAIN MOVED, GRIM SAID, "THREE CHEERS!"]

CHAPTER X

THE YOUNG BROTHER

When St. Amory's reassembled after the holidays Acton found himselffirmly established in the good graces of the fellows, and, indeed, he wasnot far from being the most popular fellow in the place, but poor Philwas looked coldly upon by those who had been his chiefest friends, and, by those who knew little of him, he passed for a jealous bounder. Actonplayed up to his cards in beautiful style, and acted the forgivinginnocent splendidly; but Phil, who was only a very honest fellow, did notplay anything to speak of. Those who gave him the cold shoulder oncenever had a second chance of showing it him, for Phil was no end proud;but he had still one or two friends, who condoned his passing of Actonfor the "footer" cap on the ground of "insufficient information" thereon. Roberts and Baines and Vercoe were not a bad trio to have for friendseither. Acton was now in the Sixth, and a monitor. 

His main idea was to keep Bourne in the bad books of the school untilsuch time as he could direct their ill-favour into channels favourable tohimself and unfavourable for Phil. A lucky chance seemed to open to himan easy method of striking at Bourne, and Acton almost hugged himselfwith joy at his windfall. 

About a week after the holidays Acton had been skating on the Marsh, andas he was returning he came across Jack Bourne engaged in a desperatefight with a young yokel. There was a small crowd of loafers, who weredelighted at this little turn up, and were loud in their advice to thefellow to give "the young swell a good hiding. "

This little crowd, as I said, caught Acton's eye, and when he perceivedthat one of the fighters was a St. Amory fellow, he hurried up to seewhat was the little game. 

Young Bourne was getting the worst of it. The yokel was a year or twoolder, was taller, and stones heavier. It was an unequal fight. Bournewas standing up to his man pluckily, and, thanks to the "agricultural"style of the clodhopper, was not taking nearly so much harm as he shouldhave done. He was, however, pretty low down in the mouth, for there wasnot a friendly eye to encourage him, nor a friendly shout to back him up. On the contrary, the mob howled with delight as their man got "home, " andencouraged him: "Gow it, Dick! Knock the stuffin' out of 'im!"

Acton had not been noticed, but he thrust himself into the mob, andsaid, "Stand back, you little beggars, or I'll massacre the lot of you. Give the boy room, you filthy pigs!" The "pigs" scuttled back, and forthe first time Bourne really had fair play. 

Acton took out his watch and assumed the direction of the fight. 

"Time!" he shouted out. "You fellow, that's your corner, and if you stirout of it before I give the word I'll thrash you within an inch of yourlife. This will be ours, Bourne. " He strode in between the two, andpushed the yokel among his friends, whilst he dragged Bourne a littleapart. 

"Thanks awfully, Acton. That beast knocked me off the path into thesnow-heap when he saw I was one of the school. I struck him, but he's abig handful. "

"Don't talk, Bourne, " said Acton, grimly. "It's only wasting breath. Keepcool, man, and you will pull it off yet. "

Thanks to Acton's encouragement, young Bourne worked along ever so muchbetter, so that when time was called he had taken no damage practically, but had scored a little on his own account. 

"Sit down on my coat. You're doing famously. Whatever you do, don't lethim swing you one in the face. You'll be snuffed out if you do. Keep himout at any cost, and try an upper cut after he swings. Waste no timeafter he's missed. "

But although young Bourne scored no end in the next few rounds byfollowing Acton's advice, his good efforts seemed wasted. The lout's facewas as hard as a butcher's block. Acton saw that Bourne was visiblytiring, and that it was an almost foregone conclusion that in the end hewould be beaten. He could hardly stall off the fellow's attack. 

After the seventh round Acton saw that he must put all to the touch, orBourne would lose. "Listen carefully, young 'un. You're jolly game, andthat's a fact, but there's no good hammering on the fool's face--he can'tfeel. You must try another trick. It's the last in your box, too, Bourne, so make no mistake. St. Amory's for ever! When he swings, duck. Don't tryto ward him off--he'll beat you down. Then, for all you're worth, drivehome with your left on the jaw. On the jaw for all you're worth. You'veseen the sergeant do it dozens of times in the gym. Keep cool, and lookwhen you hit--on the very peak. Understand?"

"Rather!" said Jack, coolly but wearily. 

"Time!"

The yokel came on in all the pride of his beefy strength, for ha knewthat he was going to finish the "swell" this round. He swung. Bourneducked, and then, quick as lightning, the lad closed in, and, with thelast ounce he had in him, drove his left on the jaw. He was true to ahair. 

"_Habet!_" shouted Acton. "Don't give him time, Jack. Send him downif you can. "

Bourne's "point" had the usual effect; the lout's head swam, he felt sickand sorry, and could not even ward off Jack's blows. He backed, Jackscoring like mad all the time, and when Acton finally called "time!" hedropped on to the ground blubbing. The fellow's eye was visibly swelling, his lips were cut, and his nose bled villainously. 

[Illustration: ACTON THREW HIM INTO THE SNOW-HEAP. ]

"The pig bleeds, " said Acton, cheerfully. "You have him now, Bourne; he'stoo sick to have an ounce of fight left in him. Time!"

The next round wasn't a round really; it was a procession, with Bourne, as fresh as paint from his success, following up the other blubbing withrage, pain, and sickness. Before Acton called, the fellow dropped to theground and howled dismally. 

"Get your coat, Jack, and then come here. He's done. Stand back, youothers. "

Jack came back. 

"Now, you pig, get up and apologize to this gentleman for having knockedhim into the snow-heap. I suppose your pig's eyes couldn't see he wasonly half your size. " Acton got hold of the fellow by the collar andjerked him to his feet. "Apologize. "

The fellow would not understand; he snivelled obstinately, and struggledaimlessly in Acton's grasp. 

"Apologize. "

"I wown't. "

"Good, " said Acton, grimly. With his flat hand he gave the fellow athundering cuff which sent him sprawling. Acton then caught him by thescruff of his neck and threw him headlong into the snow-heap. 

"Come along, Bourne, " he said, with a smile. "You have fought a goodfight this day, and no mistake. That fellow will have a fit the next andevery time he sees the smallest St. Amory's fag's cap. "

"I say, Acton, you're an awful brick to back me up like that. "

"Don't mention it, Bourne. Come and have some tea with me, and I'll pouroil into your wounds, or at any rate, I'll paint 'em. "

So young Bourne had tea with Acton, and his host went out afterwards toDann's the chemist's and brought back a camel's-hair brush and somelotion. Thanks to this, Jack's scars appeared as very honourable woundsindeed. 

From that day Jack thought Acton the finest fellow in St. Amory's. 

"He did not spread-eagle that fool, " he said to himself, "but let me havethe glory of pounding the ugly brute into jelly, and made me go in andwin when I was ready to give in to the cad. Why did not Phil give him hiscap? There's something rotten somewhere. "

As for Acton, as I said before, he regarded this little incident as atreasure trove upon which he could draw almost unlimitedly in hiscampaign against Bourne. "I'll strike at Bourne, senr. , through his youngbrother. I'll train him up in the way he should go, and when ourunspeakable prig of a Philip sees what a beautiful article young Jackfinally emerges, he'll wish he'd left me alone. Jack, my boy, I'm sorry, but I'm going to make you a bad boy, just to give your elder brothersomething to think about. You're going to become a terrible monster ofiniquity, just to shock your reverend brother. "

Acton took not the smallest interest in the usual Easter Term games. Footer was only played occasionally, but there was one blessing, thefellows need not play the usual Thursday Old Game. As for cross-countryrunning, paper chases, _et hoc genus omne_, Acton refused to haveanything to do with them. "That sort, " he said to Dick Worcester, "isn'tin the same street with footer. "

"Why not try and lift the Public School Heavy at Aldershot?" suggestedWorcester. 

"There's Hodgson in for it, Dick. "

"A good man; but if you would only apply yourself seriously to thebusiness I'd back you. You're a good weight, and got a longer reach thanHodgson. "

"There's Bourne, too. "

"Personally, I believe Phil is only pacing Hodgson to take him alongquicker. "

"It's an awful fag, and I believe Eton have got the Heavy safe and surethis year. A cousin of mine there says that their pet, Jarvis, would walkright through the best man we've ever turned out. "

"Oh, that's their usual brag!"

"Personally, I don't think so. They have got a young Bermondseyprofessor--who is up to all the latest dodges--to coach. Our sergeant isa bit old-fashioned--good, but old-fashioned. Does not do enough with hisright. "

"I'm quite an amateur, " said Dick. "Don't understand the finer shades ofthe arts. Should have thought the sergeant good enough. "

"_Dubito!_ Anyhow, Dick, I'll think it over; and if I think I canmake a decent show I'll have a shot. When does it come off?"

"At Aldershot? Oh!--last week in March. "

"That gives me nearly two months. One can turn round in two months; andif I'm satisfied as to my coaching I'll certainly try at Aldershot. Butwhat has a fellow to do on the half-holidays now? No footer, and onemight do enough practice after tea for the Heavy. I wish Kipling wouldwrite a book every week. He is the only fellow in England who can write. "

So Acton, on the half-holidays, prepared to read his novels by hisfireside. Not that he was particularly fond of toasting himself, butbecause, for him, it was all he could do. 

But Corker came to his rescue. The old man, after having had his back tothe wall for an age, consented to monitors being allowed to cycle bythemselves, and even to be _chaperon_ to any fags who cared to runwith them, and--important _proviso_--whom the monitors did notobject to. Otherwise the old rule of no cycling _sans_ house-masterwas in force. 

Acton thereupon invested in a swell machine, and he and young Bourne, orGrim, or Wilson on the hired article, would cover no end of countrybetween dinner and roll call. 

By-and-by Phil noticed that his brother was getting pretty thick withActon. 

"Rather thick with Acton, Jack? I don't think he'll do you any good. "

"He has, anyhow, Phil. "

"How?"

Jack explained. 

"I'm glad you licked the animal, young 'un; but, all the same, I wishsome other fellow had seen you through. "

"I don't!" said Jack, hotly. 

"I wonder, " said Phil, dryly, "what is the great attraction which a SixthForm fellow sees in a fag? Above all, a fag of the name of Bourne?"

"Fact is, I don't see it myself, " said Jack, shortly. "Better ask him. "

"No, I don't think I shall. All the same, I would not dog Acton'sfootsteps quite so much. "

"He's a monitor. "

"Who'll make you useful. Take my word for it. "

"We'll see. "

"Oh! Certainly we shall. "

Jack was thoroughly unhinged by his brother's dry bantering tone, andsaid hotly--

"I cannot understand, Phil, why he didn't get his cap. He deserved it. "

"There's no need for you to understand it, young 'un. "

"My opinion is----"

"Not worth the breath you're going to waste. "

"It's considered a shame pretty generally. "

"I've heard so; but, still, that does not alter matters. However, I didnot want to talk politics with you, Jack. Don't put your innocent littletoes into any scrape--that is all I wanted to tell you. Here is half acrown for you to buy butterscotch, and while you're sucking it think overwhat I've said. What! Little boys given up toffee? Then I'd better saygood night, Jack. " Jack went out pretty sore. 

About a week or so after this, Acton and young Bourne sped down to theold Lodestone Farm, and as they pedalled in at the gate young Hill, thefarmer's son, said to Acton--

"The man's been here since twelve, sir. "

"That's all right, " said Acton. "Has he got the stable ready?"

"He's been putting it to rights the last hour. "

"I say, Bourne, " said Acton, turning to Jack, "ever heard of the AlabamaCoon?"

"The fellow who won that fight in Holland? The prize-fighter?"

"The very same. "

"Rather!"

"Well, I've engaged him to give me a few lessons here. I'm going to tryfor the Heavy at Aldershot. Like to see the fun?"

"Rather!"

"Then come along. "

Together they went into the stable, and therein found "The Coon, " acoal-black negro, busily shovelling sand upon the floor, smoking anenormous cigar the while. 

"Making ready the cockpit, " said Acton to Jack, who was staring open-eyedat the worker. "Lusty looking animal, eh?"

"My aunt!" said Jack. 

"Hallo, Coon, you're about ready!"

"Yaas, sir, " said the negro. "I'm almost through. "

"Brought the mittens with you, too?"

"Yaas, sir, I have the feather beds. "

"Then when you've peeled we'll start. "

The Coon put down his spade and slipped behind a stall. 

"You see, young 'un, the sergeant at the gym is a good old hand, but heis an old hand, so to speak--hasn't got the polish. Seeing that atAldershot they tie us down to a very few rounds, if St. Amory's have tomake any show at all they must get all the points they can first round orso. That's why I've got the Coon down here. He is the most scientificboxer we have. "

"The figure will be pretty stiff, Acton, eh?"

"No matter about that if I can beat Jarvis. By the way, Bourne, you neednot say anything about this to any one. I have particular reasons forkeeping this quiet. "

"All serene. I'm mum, of course. "

"Thanks. You watch the Coon, and you'll pick up no end of wrinkles. "

The Coon came out from behind the stall dressed in a vest, trousers, andthin boots; his black arms were bare, and he had exchanged his cigar fora straw, which he chewed vigorously. Acton changed his shoes and took offhis coat, and the lesson began. 

Acton's opinion of the Coon's knowledge was, in Jack's mind, absolutelycorroborated by the display. His marvellous parrying of Acton'sattentions; his short step inwards, which invariably followed a mis-hitby Acton; his baits to lure his opponent to deliver himself a gift intohis hands; his incredible ducking and lightning returns, held Bournefascinated. Everything was done so easily, so lithely, so lightly, and sosurely, that Jack gasped in admiration. Acton in the hands of the niggerwas a lamb indeed. 

"This is an eye-opener, " said Jack. "I'll try that left feint on Rogers, the cocky ass!"

The negro stopped now and then to show Acton where and how to availhimself of opportunities; and Acton, who was in grim earnest, appliedhimself whole-heartedly to the business in hand, and, in consequence, asJack afterwards told us, "you could almost hear old Acton travelling onthe right road. "

After about half an hour of instruction, Acton said--

"That is enough of jawing for the afternoon, Coon. Let us have threerounds to finish up with. Take the time, young 'un. "

Jack, with immense pride, took out his watch and prepared to act astimekeeper. 

"Better take it easily first two, sir, and put in all you know for thelast. A little hurricane in the third round is my advice. "

Jack had an ecstatic ten minutes, the final round putting him in theseventh heaven of enjoyment. 

"All I could make out was Acton's white arms mixed with Alabama's blackones, and the sand flying in all directions. Stunning isn't the word forit!"

As Acton and young Bourne pedalled leisurely home for roll call, Jacksaid--

"I think Jarvis' chance of collaring the Heavy for his place is a trifle'rocky. '"

"I hope so. "

"Crumbs! How Alabama does get home!"

CHAPTER XI

TODD PAYS THE BILL

Another youth had come back to St. Amory's with resolutions as fixed andsteady, though more legitimate than Acton's. Augustus Vernon Robert Toddreturned to school with pockets more scantily lined than ever from theparental source, with his mind constantly fixed on the conversation whichhe had had with his house-master on that awful concluding day last term, and his chin still thrust out valiantly. Gus's square chin meant anundeviating attention to serious study, and Gus, armed _cap-à-pie_, against all his old friends. 

For Todd had taken his precautions. His watch--a gold one, "jewelled innumberless holes, " as its owner pathetically remarked--had been left withthe family jeweller for three bright golden sovereigns, an eight-and-sixbrass turnip, which went jolly well, although its tick was a triflevigorous under Gus's pillow, and an agreement. This document, drawn up byhimself, Gus regarded as a very masterpiece of business-like acumen. Guscould have his gold watch back again within the year by paying threesovereigns, and buying the brass turnip for half a sovereign, the profitaccruing on this latter transaction being, as Gus explained proudly, thejeweller's percentage on the loan. The family jeweller had informed Guscasually that he couldn't keep a wife and growing family on suchpercentages, but to oblige, etc. 

Todd received Mr. James Cotton blandly and politely, and Jim, in hisheavy way, mistook this airiness for non-paying symptoms on Gus's part. 

"Had a good time, old cock, during the holidays?"

"Beastly, " said Gus. 

"Governor rusty?"

"No end. Been making the will again, and leaving me out. "

"Perry _fiasco_, eh?"

"Yes, and other things. "

"Well, I hope you can pay up all you owe me, old chap. "

"Oh yes!" said Gus. "I said I would keep my word, although you were sogood as to have your doubts. "

"All right, glad you can manage it. "

"Here you are, " said Gus, thrusting his hand into his pocket and bringingup his coins. "Three three for that rotten bet, and the other fifteen bobI owed you. It's all there. "

Cotton opened his eyes. 

"You said the governor was rusty, Gus?"

"So he was, beastly; but I can pay you all the same. "

"Well, " said Cotton, after a little awkward pause, "I don't want to cleanyou out quite, so pay half now and the rest next term. Would that suityou better, Gus?"

"Thanks, I don't mind, " said Gus, airily. "Here's half, then. "

Cotton left his friend's room considerably puzzled, but when he came nextnight with his books for his old jackal's attentions as before, he wasmore than puzzled, for Gus said--

"Can give you half an hour, Jim. "

"We won't be able to screw up enough for Merishall in that time, oldman. "

"Then you'll have to do the rest yourself, Jim. I'm not going to piffleabout any more. "

"Oh, don't be an ass, Gus! I've heard that footle before, " said Cotton, with his heavy selfishness. 

"Not quite, for this time I mean what I say. "

"Oh no, you don't!"

"Oh yes, I do!"

"You wouldn't leave a fellow in the lurch like this, after all I--"

"I was left in the lurch last term, Jim, dear, and I'd rather you had ataste of it this go. Do you remember when old Corker was savaging mebefore all the school!"

The ghost of a smile flitted over Cotton's lips as he said--

"Rather!"

"The entire school, from the meanest fag up to Carr, was laughing at me, and, by Jove! Jim, your laugh was the loudest and longest. "

"It was your tips I was thinking of, and Corker's frothing through yourlist of names, " said Cotton, apologetically. 

"All right, " said Todd, acidly. "If you had left me alone I wouldn't havewanted those tips, and as for my names, I did not christen myself. If youwant half an hour to shake out your work roughly I'll do it, but I can'tdo more, Jim, honour bright. "

"I don't want _that_!" said Cotton, angrily, gathering up hisbooks. 

"Am deucedly glad you don't. And here, Jim, is the other half of themoney. Since I'm not obliging you in any way, why should you me?"

"You're logical, Todd, at any rate, " said Jim, with half a sneer. 

"Didn't know you could spot logic when you heard it, Cotton, " said Gus, with an equal amount of acid, and yet good-naturedly too. 

"I suppose I clean you out?"

"You do. I've got a shilling to look at when you've taken up that heap. "

"Is that your last word?"

"It is, but there's no need to quarrel--we're as we were before I beganto take your hire, Jim. "

"Not quite, " said Cotton, who was hit by Gus's decision. "I'll leave youto your odd shilling and your forsaken tips. "

He stumped off to his own room, and called Todd pet names till bedtime. What made Cotton so angry was that, deep down in his own mind, he knewthat Gus was about to do a sensible and a manly thing, and just becausehe himself was going to suffer by it he had not moral courage enough tospeak out openly his better mind. 

But Gus, smiling at Cotton's bad temper, took out his books, drew up ascheme for study, bolted his door, and commenced to work. He slacked offwhen the bell went half an hour before lights out, and spent the timeleft him in boring a hole in his solitary shilling. He then slipped it onhis watch-guard, prepared boldly to face a term of ten weeks without astiver. 

CHAPTER XII

RAFFLES OF ROTHERHITHE

Twice a week, on half-holidays, Acton and Bourne ran over to the farm, tofind the Coon waiting for them in the stable, smoking an enormous cigaras usual, and reading sporting papers on the corn-chest. Young Hill, thefarmer's son, generally put in an appearance when the boxing was aboutover, and to Jack's utter disgust, plainly showed that he would ratherthat Jack was anywhere else than with Acton when the gloves had been laidaside. He seemed to have some business with Acton concerning which heevidently did not want Jack to hear a single syllable. 

Jack did not quite see at first that he was one too many after the boxingwas over, and that Hill, at any rate, did not mean there should be afourth to the deliberations of himself, Acton, and the Coon. Jack, however, soon tumbled that he was _de trop_, and the minute youngHill came in Jack would stalk solemnly and formally out of the stable andkick up his heels in the farmyard until such time as Acton should beready for the run to school. 

Jack certainly did not like this cavalier treatment, but found it rathera bore pottering about the yard, "looking at the beastly ducks;" butActon was so profusely apologetic when he did come out that Jackgenerally smoothed his ruffled plumes and pedalled home at peace withhimself and all the world. 

"The fact is, Jack, " said Acton, "young Hill has arranged for me to havethe stable for our practice, for old Hill himself was rather against it, and as he has a prejudice against St. Amory fellows generally, butespecially when they're of the Junior School--some of your tribe scuttledhis punt for him on the moat, didn't you?--I thought you would not mindhumouring the man's amiabilities. The Coon and he talk rot--sportingrot--and it would only bore you to listen to it. "

Jack said, "It does not matter in the least. I'd as soon look at theducks as listen to Hill. It's a bit _infra dig. _, though, that _he_should object. "

As a matter of fact, young Hill received letters for Acton which dealtwith many things, the burden of most of them being "betting, " and theother sweet things of the sporting shop. Acton was, as you will haveseen, not the very green innocent who would come to much harm in thislovely form of diversion. 

[Illustration: A LITTLE YELLOW, EAR-TORN DOG BUSTLED OUT OF SOME SHED. ]

About a fortnight after the visits to the Lodestone had commenced, theCoon brought down with him a long-legged, thin-faced, horsey-lookingindividual, who introduced himself to Bourne as Raffles of Rotherhithe, and who laid himself out to be excessively friendly to Jack. He took, evidently, quite a professional interest in the sparring, and told Actonthat "his left was quite a colourable imitation of the Coon's. "

"Not colourable, anyhow, " said Acton, with a wink at Jack. 

"What do you think, sir, of Alabama's 'blind hook'?"

Jack, who had not the remotest idea what a "blind hook" was, said it "wassimply stunning. "

"Exactly my idea, sir. I see you know above a bit about the noble art. "

Raffles, as he would have said in his own special slang, worked the"friendly lay" so well upon Jack, that that young gentleman was capturedto the last gun; you can do an awful lot of execution by deferring to theopinion of a young man of sixteen, or thereabouts, as to the merit ofrelying exclusively on the left. 

When the sparring was over, Raffles shuffled out with Jack into the yardand whistled. A little yellow, ear-torn dog bustled out of some shed andtrotted demurely by Mr. Raffles' right boot. 

"See that dog, Mr. Bourne?"

"By the way, Raffles, how did you know my name was Bourne?" asked Jack. 

"Mr. Acting mentioned that it was so. No offence, I hope, sir?"

"Oh no!" said Jack. 

"Mr. Acting mentioned to me as how Warmint might amuse you. "

"Warmint! What the deuce is that?"

"Why, the dawg. "

"Well, it's a pretty ugly brute anyhow, Raffles. "

"It is so; it's the colour--yellow is a mean colour. But he's a terror togo. "

"Where?" said Jack, uncivilly; for the man's manner, a mixture offamiliarity and servility, had begun to pall on Jack's taste. 

"Why, there ain't a better, quicker, neater dawg in all London after therats than Warmint. He holds the record south the Thames. "

"Is there a record then for rat killing? How is it done?"

"Turn a sack o' long tails on to the floor and let the dawg among them. He works against time, of course. "

"Have the rats any chance of getting away?"

"No fear. "

"Ugh!" said Jack, looking at the mongrel with intense disgust. 

"Is time for twenty--but I say, Mr. Bourne, if you like I'll bring a bago' rats down, and you can see for yourself. While the other gentleman, Mr. Acting, is with the Coon, we can bring it off in the barn. "

"Man alive, no!" said Jack, with another spasm of disgust; "but if you'veany other plans, Raffles, of killing an hour or so whilst Hill makesspeeches, trot 'em out. I'm sick of pottering round his yard like anidiot. Are you coming with the Coon again?"

"Pretty well every time. What do you say to a little game of billiards?"

"Where?" said Jack. 

"Nice little 'ouse near 'ere, I know. "

"No fear! That's clean against the rules. Besides, who wants to knockballs about with a sticky cue on a torn billiard cloth, where the wholeplace reeks of beer and stale tobacco? No, thanks!"

"Young gents used not to set so much store by rules when I was a lad. "

"We've changed since then, Raffles, " said Jack, drily. 

"A little shooting?"

"What?"

"Sparrers?" suggested Raffles, off-hand. 

"Rot!"

"Bunnies?"

"That's better, Raffles. If you can get me half an hour with Hill'srabbits, I'd risk that. Of course, there'd be a row if it was known. Acton won't inquire, I fancy, who's shooting?"

"Mr. Acton won't, Mr. Bourne; he's a gentleman. "

"He's a monitor, though, Raffles, which is a different sort of animal. "

Raffles of Rotherhithe did not appear to think that Acton's being amonitor was a clinching argument barring young Bourne's sport. Perhaps hehad private reasons for his opinions. Anyhow, he glibly promised to havea breech-loader and a ferret for young Bourne on the morrow. 

"And old Hill? They're his rabbits, you know. "

"That will be all right. Take Dan Raffles' word for it. "

"Now look here, Raffles; I'll give you sixpence for every rabbit I shoot, and I'll pay you for the cartridges. You'll keep all the rabbits, but youwill lend me the gun. "

"Very good, sir, " said Raffles, smartly. 

"And, Raffles, " said Jack, eyeing over that individual with a curiousmixture of amusement and dislike, "you needn't be too beastly friendlyand chummy. I'm going to pay you for what you do, and don't fancy I'mgoing an inch further than I feel inclined. I'm paying the piper, and I'mgoing to choose all the tunes. "

"Orl right, " said Raffles, considerably taken aback by the ultimatum. "I'll not be friendlier than I can 'elp. "

"Don't, " said Jack. 

CHAPTER XIII

"EASY IS THE DOWNWARD ROAD"

Aided by Raffles of Rotherhithe, young Bourne went royally through halfthe rules of the school. He called the tune to that extent. In the firstplace, one may believe that when he called in the aid of that horseygentleman he had no further idea in his head than that of passing awaythose dull half-hours which Hill inflicted upon him. 

But, like many a wiser man, young Bourne found it was easier to conjureup a spirit than to lay one, and, having once accepted the aid ofRaffles, he found it beyond his power to dispense with it, despite hisbrave word. So, unheedful of his brother's advice, he not merely put hisinnocent feet into the stream of forbidden pleasures, but waded inwhole-heartedly up to the chin. 

Raffles, as promised, turned up on the next occasion provided with aferret and a gun, and all difficulties were smoothed over with thefarmer. Thus Jack Bourne took his post as the noble British sportsmanjust behind the Lodestone Moat, whilst Raffles, with his ferret, workedthe bank, which was honey-combed with rabbit-holes. As the rabbitsscurried out before the ferret, Jack blazed away noisily, andoccasionally he had the pleasure of seeing a rabbit turning a somersaultas it made its last bound. Certainly, Jack was not a dead shot, but whenhe contemplated the slain lying stark on the flanks of the bank, he feltthe throaty joy of the slaughtering British schoolboy. He counted out tohis worthy henchman four sixpences for the four slain with all the prideof the elephant-hunter paying his beaters yards of brass wire and calico. Raffles was properly grateful, of course. 

Then, as their acquaintance progressed, there were little competitionsbetween Jack and Raffles at artificial pigeon-shooting, Raffles havingfixed up the apparatus, and Jack, from the twenty-five yards' mark, occasionally winged his clay pigeon. It was very good sport in Jack'sopinion. Further, that little "'ouse" which Raffles knew of also soonmade the acquaintance of Jack, and he and Raffles on rainy afternoonssnatched the fearful joys of hasty "hundreds up" or "fifties up, " just astime allowed, Jack did not find the cue quite so sticky nor the charms ofstale tobacco quite so unlovely as he had expected. The landlord, whomarked for the two worthies, told our young gentleman that he had "apretty 'and for the long jenny, " and Jack felt he could not do less thanorder a little of his favourite beverage in return for his good opinion. And thus as ever. Under the expert tuition of Raffles, Jack became alittle more of a "man" every day, and a little less of a decent fellow. He smoked, he could call for a "small port" in quite an off-hand fashion, he had played "shell out" with loafers at the little "'ouse, " and hebegan to know a little more of betting, "gee-gees, " and other kindredmatters, than an average young fellow should know. 

"_Facilis descensus Averni_"--you know the old tag. 

By insensible gradations Jack Bourne found himself with a ruin of brokenrules behind him, and still tied to the chariot-wheels of Raffles, whodragged him wherever he would. Jack's pockets, too, began to feel thedrain, but luckily--or unluckily, if you look at it properly--he wasrather flush this term, and as he had more than the usual allowance, hewas not so short as he might have been. 

One thing bothered Jack, though he did not exactly put the idea thatworried him into words. There was not much fun _really_ in thisshooting, billiards, etc. , since Jack broke all the rules alone. Now, ifPoulett, or Wilson, or Rogers, or Grim had been with him, that would havebeen jolly. Besides that, since he could give his old chums so preciouslittle of his time, and had perforce to head them off when they offeredto bear him company on half-holidays, they called him many choice names. 

"I hear they sample all the public-houses between here and Westcote, "said Rogers. "Look what a dissipated eye Mr. Bourne's got. "

"Yours will soon be groggy, Rogers, my pet, though you are cock of yourbeastly water-lilies. " After Sharpe's memorable poem, Biffen's house werealways "water-lillies" to the rest of St. Amory's. 

"Ah?" said Poulett, "Jack carries Acton's notes to some yellow-haireddolly down at Westcote. She gives him milk whilst he's waiting for theanswer. "

"Go and poach eggs, Poulett. "

"Don't do anything too mean, dear Jack, so that you'll make us blush foryou. "

"Keep Acton out of mischief, Jack, remember he's only a poor forsakenmonitor. Show him the ropes. "

"Good-bye, you chaps, " said Jack, hopping on his bike, "here's Actoncoming. " The two would then pedal the well-known road to the Lodestone, and the elevating company of the Coon and Raffles. 

"Don't let Raffles bore you, young 'un, " said Acton to Bourne one day asthe owner of Warmint hove in sight. "Make him useful, but keep out ofmischief. "

Jack, had he thought about the matter, might have reasonably asked Actonhow he could make Raffles useful and yet keep out of mischief, but theCoon appearing at the stable-door in all the glory of a fur-lined coat, with a foot of fur round the collar and half a foot round the sleeves, and a bigger cigar than ever in his mouth, drove Jack's thoughts inanother direction. 

Acton had really made marvellous progress under the Coon's coaching, andas Jack watched the usual concluding three rounds, he was puzzled in hisown mind as to who could hold a candle up to his friend. This particularafternoon was to be the final appearance of the Coon, who was going tofigure shortly as principal in some contest at Covent Garden, and Jackdetermined to miss no opportunity of catching the last wrinkles of thegreat professor's skill. Therefore, instead of sallying out as usualhalfway through the performance in the stable, he sat on the corn-chestuntil Hill came in. 

"Good-bye, Coon! Hope you come off all right in your turn-up. "

"Good-bye, sir! Hope I'll train you when you start for the Heavy. "

"I'll give you the chance if I do. Come along, Raffles. "

When they were outside, Jack said, "By the way, Raffles, this will beyour last appearance down here too, eh?"

"I suppose so, " said Raffles, "unless you make it worth my while to comedown entirely on your account. "

"H'm, no, " said Jack. "I'm deucedly short now, and when I've paid for thelast fifty cartridges, and the last rabbits, I'll be still shorter. "

"Let it stand over, sir. "

"No, " said Jack. "I've had the fun, and I'll pay, of course. Let's have alast dozen pigeons at the twenty-five yards' rise. "

Secretly, Jack was rather glad that Raffles' _rôle_ of entertainerwas finished; for his stolen pleasures had lost a considerable part oftheir original sweetness, and their cost _was_ heavy. It would bequite a change, too, to get back to Grim and the others, and be theordinary common sort of fellow again. 

Raffles went and wound up the throwing apparatus, and set the clay pigeonon the rest. Jack took his breech-loader, raised it to the shoulder, andsaid, "Ready!" Raffles pulled the string, the dummy bird rocketed up, andJack pressed the trigger. 

For one second afterwards Jack did not rightly know what had happened. There was a blinding flash before his eyes, a something tore off his cap, and something stung his cheeks like spirts of scalding water. His lefthand felt numb and dead. This all happened in the fraction of a moment. 

Jack looked at the gun in stupid wonder. The breech was clean blown out!With a groan of horror, he dropped the gun. He realized that he hadescaped death by a miracle. He put up his right hand to his face, whichfelt on fire, and stared blankly at Raffles. 

That worthy was scared out of his wits; but when he saw Jack was more orless alive, he managed to jerk out--

"That was a squeak, young shaver! Hurt any?"

"Don't know, " said Jack, blankly. 

Raffles anxiously examined him, and it was with no end of relief hesaid--

"Clean bill, sir--bar those flecks of powder on your cheek. Considering--well you're--we're--lucky. "

"Rather, " said Jack, dizzily. "That's my cap isn't it?"

Yards away was Jack's cap, and Raffles brought it. His face waswhite--white above a bit. There was a clean cut through the brim, and aneat, straightforward tear-out of an inch or so of the front just abovethe crest. 

"Well, " said Raffles, looking narrowly at that business-like damage. "AllI can say is you're lucky. "

"Lucky! Yes, " said Jack. "I suppose I'd better go. Let's have the thing. An inch lower down, and I'd have had that piece of barrel in my head--orthrough it. It wants thinking over. "

"I suppose, sir, you're going to----"

"Oh, the cash you mean! Eh?"

"Yes, that was my meaning. "

"Your cash will be all right, man. Come down for it on Friday--can'tyou?"

"How if I can't, young shaver?" said Raffles of Rotherhithe. 

"Then do without it! Anyhow, I'm going now--I'm too sick. "

"All right, " said Raffles, sulkily. "On Thursday. "

Jack, without another word, stumbled across the fields into the farmyard, and luckily found Acton ready for home. He shakily dropped into hissaddle; and, with a mind pretty busy, he tailed wearily after Acton toSt. Amory's. 

CHAPTER XIV

IN THE STABLE

After tea that day Acton went down to the farm _solus_, not having, as you will presently see, any need of Jack's company, even if Bourne hadfelt any desire to accompany him, which he didn't. 

The monitor tinkled his bell, and in answer to the ringing, Raffleslounged out of a barn, the inseparable Warmint trotting at his master'sheels. 

"Suppose we'd better go into the stable, Raffles. "

The odour of the Coon's afternoon cigar still hung about the place, andthe stable was half dark, but as Acton had an idea that his conversationwith Raffles would not be a short one, and the night was rather cold, they went in. 

"Fire away, Raffles. Start at the beginning. "

"Very good, sir, " said Raffles, seating himself on the corn-chest. "Agreeable to instructions received from Mr. Acting----"

"Acton, " suggested that gentleman. 

"Acting--I said so, didn't I? Very well! Agreeable to instructionsreceived from you, sir, I prepared----"

"Don't be so beastly legal, you ass!"

"Let a cove tell 'is tale 'is own way, sir. We'll get on better likethat. As I was going to say, following your tip, I prepared to show thatyoung shaver, Bourne, a few things which as you told me he ought not toknow of, and to do a few things which you told me he ought not to do--infact, to put him on the way of breakin' every blessed rule that that beakof your school 'as drawn up for the guidance of the youth and thebeauties under 'is 'and. What's the name of the beak, sir?"

"Oh, Moore!" said Acton, impatiently. 

"The young shaver spoke of 'im different. "

"Corker, perhaps, " said Acton. 

"That's it, " continued Raffles. "Well, Corker 'asn't got a thoroughbredgreenhorn in Bourne, Mr. Acting. "

"No. Young Bourne's head is on his shoulders, more or less. Get on. "

"Well, we opened the ball with a little bunny-shootin', for he couldn'tstand Warmint's workin' among the rats. He shoots moderate straight, so Idoctored his cartridges, or he'd have cleared out the bank. Not more thantwo in the half-dozen, sir. And then he couldn't understand it. Whatmight Corker say to the bunnies, sir?"

"Oh, a thrashing, perhaps, and a stringing up for the rest of the term. "

"We went to the Blue Cow on wet days. Billiards, beer, and 'baccy, Mr. Acting, was the true bill there. What's the law on those fancy articles?"

"A thrashing for first course, and _et ceteras_ which you wouldn'tunderstand. "

"Well, he's earned 'em. We couldn't do any betting on the horses, sincethe Lincolnshire Handicap is not in sight yet, but he fluttered a littleon the Sporting Club matches; and he was lucky--more than ordinary. "

"You didn't wing him there, then?"

"Nothing to speak of. He may have dropped half a sov. Altogether, but Idoubt it. "

"Then, Raffles, you're a fool. Do you think I brought you down here to bemoral instructor to young Bourne, you grey old badger? Couldn't you bagan innocent of sixteen or so? Besides, what the deuce do you mean bytipping me the wink as Bourne and I used to get on our 'bikes'? Youalways did it, and I thought you were winding up the youngster hand overhand. "

"Them winks, " said Raffles, diplomatically, "was meant to show that I wasmoving--moving slow, but sure. You've observed, Mr. Acting, yourself, as'ow the young shaver had a head on 'is shoulders. "

"Yes, but I didn't bargain for yours being off your shoulders. "

"Well, what with bunnies, cartridges, and the Blue Cow, and the otherextras, he is about cleaned out now. "

"Cleaned out!" said Acton, with intense irritation. "That's not what Iwanted. I told you distinctly that I must have him five pounds deep atthe least. How can I engineer my schemes if my sharpers can't cut? You'lllook blue, Raffles, when I settle your account, take my word for it. "

"Not quite so quick off the mark, Mr. Acting. What do you value thispiece of ironmongery at?"

Raffles fished up the gun which had burst in Jack's hands that afternoonfrom behind the corn-chest, and held it up to the light. 

"A burst gun!" said Acton. "It's worth throwing away; no more. "

"It was worth this morning, say fifteen bob, before Bourne blew its ribsout. "

"Jove!" said Acton, "let me handle the thing. " He looked at the tornbreech, and whistled with involuntary horror. "Much of a squeak, Raffles?"

"Touch and go, sir. He'll never be nearer pegging out than he was thisafternoon; for he scraped the gates of his family buryin'-place, in amanner of speakin. ' It went clean through his hat--rim and crown. "

"Did he know his luck?"

"Nobody better. "

"He looked more than average queer as we trotted home. I thought he wasdigesting your little bill, Raffles. "

"No; he only owes me a matter of shillin's. But I could say that Iticketed the gun at £5 or £6, when the old shooter wasn't worth----"

"Fifteen bob, " said Acton, looking at the worn barrel. 

"See where I have--where you have--the youngster tied neatly up? He owesme--or you--seven, eight, nine pounds, or any fancy figure I--or you--like to mention for that old piece of iron there. "

"Raffles, we're in luck! Luck has served me better than all your downywork. "

"It has, " said that bright specimen of humanity, regretfully. "I can'tpretend that I'd any hand in the blowing out of them blessed barrels. "

"All right, Raffles; don't weep. You'd have done it, of course, if you'dthought about it, " said Acton, with a curious sneer; "but this is myplan--as far as you're concerned. When young Bourne comes, you're to askfor £7 10s. And you're to be an adamantine Jew; you're to have the moneyinstanter, or there'll be a rumpus. "

"I twig. Make it seven guineas, though, " said Raffles, generously. 

"Seven guineas! So be it. You can suggest that, unless you get the cash, you would see Moore. "

"Corker, D. D. ? I'm on. "

"Or Bourne, senior. "

"The shaver's brother. I'm tumbling to the dodge. "

"Bourne will curl up at this. "

"Naturally. "

"But you're still the blood-thirsty Jew. "

"Moses, and Aaron, and the rest. "

"You'll suggest at last that I be tackled for a loan. "

"And you'll lend it him!" said Raffles, with an unspeakable leer. 

"The business wants careful handling, remember. Young Bourne will thinktwice about borrowing, and, perhaps, if he could keep me out of it, wouldstand your racket, or Corker's either. So drive him lightly. "

"You'll see him on the borrowing tack to-morrow, Mr. Acting. "

"And the rest is my business. "

"Where do I come in?"

"You can cleave to the seven guineas--if you earn 'em. "

"Seven pounds ten, Mr. Acting. "

"Seven pound seven, Mr. Raffles. Your own proposal. "

"Orl right, " said Raffles, resignedly. "I think I know them ropes. "

"Good!" said Acton. "Then you can scuttle now to Rotherhithe, or where thedeuce else you like. I'm off. "

Acton wheeled out his bicycle and melted into the gathering dark, and hisjackal lurched off to the station and reached Rotherhithe to dream of hisseven guineas which he was going to get. Raffles felt sure of those sevenguineas. 

CHAPTER XV

GRIM'S SUSPICIONS

As I said before, Jack Bourne, after the first bloom of his forbiddenpleasures had worn off, rather repented of the Raffles' connection, andwould gladly have exchanged it for the old, easy, open, and above-boardsociety of his chums. Grim, Rogers, Wilson, Poulett, etc. , were, on theirside, rather sore at Jack's continual desertion of them and their causes. They had just seen him pedalling easily after Acton, throwing them arather mirthless joke as he ran past, and they had, naturally, held acouncil to consider matters. 

"Wherever can the beggar get to is what I want to know, " said Wilson. 

"Can any one tell me what he wants with Acton?" said Grim. 

"I think that it's Acton that wants him, " said Rogers. "Come to think ofit, Grimmy, you're Acton's man. Why doesn't he lag you?"

"Grimmy's not to be trusted. He'd read the _billet-doux_"

"I don't believe that there's any notes, Wilson, " said Grim, impressively, "in this business. It's something deeper than that. "

"What's the mystery, Mr. Grimmy Sherlock Combs?"

"Poachin', " said Grim, solemnly. 

"What!" exclaimed the other, with breathless interest. 

"Dunno, quite, " said Grim; "but that young ass dropped a cartridge fromhis pocket the other day. "

"There's nothing to poach here, Grimmy. "

"There's Pettigrew's pheasants, " said Grim, mysteriously. 

"But you don't shoot them in March. "

"_We_ don't, Poulett, but poachers do. "

"Tisn't likely that Acton----"

"Well, don't know, " said Rogers, reflectively. "He's lived so long inFrance, where they shoot robins and nightingales, that he'll not know. "

"But Bourne would. "

"That's why he looks so blue. He does know, and it preys on his mind. "

W. E. Grim's pathetic picture of young Bourne turned out-of-season poacheragainst his will by an inexorable Acton didn't seem quite to fill thebill. 

"Grimmy, you're an absolute idiot. That poachin' dodge won't do. Perhaps, after all, they only bike round generally. "

"What about that cartridge?" said Grim. 

The little knot of cronies discussed the matter for a good half-hour, Grim holding tenaciously to a poaching theory--pheasants or rabbits--theothers scouting the idea as next door to the absurd. 

"Look here, " said Wilson, brilliantly, "we'll track the pair to theirearth to-morrow. If they're after birds or bunnies I'll stand tea allround at Hooper's. "

"All right, " said Grim. "I'd like to know about that cartridge. "

On the morrow the suspicious band quietly trotted out after dinner fromSt. Amory's, dressed ostensibly for a run down Westcote way. Once downthe hill they lay well out in the fields, keeping a sharp watch throughthe hedges for their quarry. When they saw two well-known figures, feeton the rest, coasting merrily down and head for Westcote, they all drew along breath and girded up their loins for the race. 

"With luck and the short cuts, " said Grim, stepping out, "we may just see'em sneak into Pettigrew's woods. "

"And we've got a mile in hand too, " said Wilson. 

The cronies ran tightly together, nursing their wind and keeping wellscreened from eyeshot from the road, not that either Acton, or Bournedreamed that their afternoon's run was being dogged by anyone. From theirnumerous short cuts the scouts were necessarily out of view from theroad, but they marked the two cyclists from point to point and themselvesheaded up hill and down dale straight for Westcote. They felt pretty wellwinded by now, as they stood panting in a breezy spinney, watching forthe appearance of their quarry on the brown road beneath them. 

"There they are, " gasped Wilson, pretty blown. 

"There's only one, " said Rogers, "and it is that young owl Bourne, too. He's shed Acton. "

"Perhaps he's punctured, " suggested Grim; "anyhow, we hang on to Jack. "

Rather puzzled at the non-appearance of Acton, they kept the first-comerwell in view as he pedalled hard for Westcote. 

"That's Jack right enough, " said Rogers; "and we'll have to leg it orhe'll slip us. Jove! he's captured a wheel with a vengeance. Hear ithum. "

The quartette strung down the hill full pelt, but when they got to thebottom the cyclist was a good hundred yards ahead. His pursuers came to adead stop. 

"May as well go home now, " said Grim, in great disgust. "We can't dog himnow, and anyhow it isn't Pettigrew's pheasants that Jack's after: he'sgone past the woods. What a bone-shaker he's captured. Hear the spokesrattlin'. "

"Not so quick, Grimmy. He's wheeling into that little Westcote inn. We'llrun him down now. "

The rider had indeed dismounted nearly a quarter mile ahead, andinstantly the Amorians were stringing down the road again. Before thedoor of the little inn they found a bicycle propped up drunkenly againstthe wall, and the Amorians, pumped though they were, had breath enoughleft to explode over Bourne's machine. It was a "solid" ofpre-diamond-frame days, guiltless of enamel or plating, and handle-barsof width generous enough for a Dutch herring-boat's bow. 

"There's no false pride about Jack, " said Grim, gloating over the weirdmount. "Whatever is he doing in here?"

"Liquid refreshment, " said Rogers between a gulp and a gasp. "Oh, Jack, was it for this and this that you gave us the go-by?"

"This place doesn't seem Jack's form somehow, " said Wilson, lookingdoubtfully up and down the little inn. 

"Ring him out, Wilson, " said Grim. "His little game's up now, and we canrag him for an age over this. "

"Let's try his mount first, Grimmy. " Rogers wheeled out the machine and, after hopping twenty yards, "found" the saddle. To mount it was onething, to ride it was evidently a matter of liberal education beyond theattainments of a junior Amorian, for, as Rogers attempted a modest sweepround, the machine collapsed, and he was sprawling on his back, thebicycle rattling about his ears. Then--it seemed automatically to thegasping Amorians--a sturdy youth rushed out of the inn flourishing ahalf-emptied glass of beer in one hand, and he seized the strugglingRogers by the scruff of the neck with the other. Rogers wasunceremoniously jerked to his feet before he quite realized what it wasall about. One or two men lounged out of the inn, and surveyed the scenedispassionately, and the landlord pushed his way forward. 

"Wot's the matter?"

"Matter!" gasped the youth, tightening his hold on Rogers' collar andwaving his glass dramatically. 

"This young shaver was going to nick my bike. I seen him. "

"I wasn't, you fool----" began Rogers, who did not like the man'sknuckles in his neck. 

"Fool am I, you little ugly thief? Worn't you a-scorchin' down the roadw'it? I see you. "

The other Amorians curled up with laughter at the way things were mixingup, and at the last exquisite joke. 

"Jove, Rogers, to think you meant to steal it!" burbled Poulett. 

"Leave loose of my collar, you idiot, " said Rogers, squirming in theman's grasp; "I tell you it's all a mistake. "

"That's all my h'eye. I see you sneak it, and it'll be a month for you. Sneaking bikes is awful! Mistake be blowed. "

"Oh! explain, some of you, " said Rogers, frantically, "before I--Grim, tell the lunatic. "

The Amorians were beyond mere laughter now, but the landlord had witenough to see that there was some mistake somewhere, and he finallypersuaded the owner of the bicycle to moderate his attentions to theexasperated Rogers. Grim recovered sufficiently to lift some of thesuspicions from that ill-used youth. 

"We thought you were a friend of ours--back view only and at a distance, you know--but you're not very like him, really, in the face. His name'sBourne. "

"Mine's 'Arris, " said the bicycle owner, angrily. 

"A very nice name, too;" said Grim, soothingly. "You'd better see what'sthe damage to the machine for we must be trotting back to St. Amory's. "

Mr. Harris spun the pedals and tried the wheels. 

"It's shook up considerable, that's wot it is. "

"All right, " said Grim, hastily. "Here's a shilling. Give it a drink ofbeer. "

This was a wretched joke really, but it brightened the face of Mr. Harrisconsiderably when he heard it, and the loafers departed from theirdispassionate attitude, and became quite friendly. The landlord went into draw beer. 

A minute afterwards the quartette was heading back for St. Amory's ashard as it could go, and whenever a halt was called for breath, three ofthe cronies collapsed on the earth, and howled at Rogers, who could notsee the joke. 

Over a quiet little tea, after call-over, at Hooper's Rogers explainedfully his views. 

"No, I'm not going to do any more detective work. We missed Acton andBourne beautifully; they don't go to Westcote, and Grimmy's idea aboutpoachin' 's rotten. He may be Acton's messenger-boy or the rider of adecent pneumatic, but I'm going to let him go his own way. "

When, afterwards, they rubbed embrocation into their wearied limbs, therest agreed with Rogers. 

"But, yet, " said Grim, "I'd like to know about that cartridge too. "

CHAPTER XVI

TODD "FINDS HIMSELF"

Todd had found out all the unpainted beauty of public-school life withoutpocket money, and discovered that existence was just possible. A shillingon your watchchain and a shilling's worth of stamps admit of no luxuries, and Todd, through his impecuniosity, even if he had wished, could nothave done anything else but work. Taylor's house was supposed to providea fairly liberal table, but Gus really did miss his after-dinner cup ofcoffee at Hooper's, and not many fellows would regard long letters to andfrom home as being the _summum bonum_ of the week. Yet Todd had cometo regard his mamma's letters--four-paged gossip about his sisters, hisbrothers, the horses, and the dogs--in the light of luxuries. 

Consequently, with nothing to distract him, Gus really did work. Hisstanding in the Fifth sensibly increased. Merishall did not makeelaborate jokes on his Latin, and Corker not once let fall the warningeye-glass preparatory to savaging him for his Greek, formerly called soby a courtesy title. There was a world of difference between his oldhaphazard slip-slop and his present honest attempts in the ways ofscholarship. 

The half-holidays, though, dragged dreadfully, for Gus was one of thosefellows who have no natural aptitude for games, and he had a theory thathe did not care a straw about them either. Being in the Fifth he could, of course, suit himself what he did with his halfers. Sometimes, in verydesperation, he would lounge down to the Acres, and wander forlornly fromgoal post to goal post, and sometimes he spent the afternoon amusinghimself--with Lancaster's express approval--in the laboratory, and soeffaced previous bad impressions from the science master's mind. Gus, however, was honest enough with himself to own that he would rather havehad an aimless stroll with Cotton than any amount of footer-gazing or"bottle-washing. " But Cotton had definitely thrown him over; they did notnod when they met, and Jim was very careful not to see Gus walking insolitary state in the roadway. 

Todd was moodily looking out of his window one halfer, and discontentedlywondering how he could exist till he should switch on the electric forthe evening grind, when a not unfamiliar knock sounded on the door. Gusfaced round wonderingly, and opened the door. The house-master droppedinto the chair which Todd hastily drew out for him. 

"I thought I should catch you in, Todd. Nothing on, have you?"

"No, sir, " said Todd. 

"No particular engagement for this afternoon. "

"No, sir, " said Gus, with a half sigh merging into a half smile, "thoughI did think of going down to the Acres, and looking at the footer. "

"I'm glad of that, " said Taylor, as though he really were. "I promised toreferee this afternoon--Hargon's _v_. Sharpe's--but I want to cryoff now. Neuralgia, Todd, is simply torturing me this moment, andrefereeing wouldn't improve it. Do you mind taking my place? Do pleasesay 'No' if you'd rather not. "

"Very sorry, sir, " said Gus, referring to the neuralgia. "Referee!"

"Yes, " said Taylor, with a ghost of a smile at Todd's astonishment. 

"Certainly, I will, sir--I mean I'll take your place. But the fellowswill gasp when I step into the arena. "

"Thank you, Todd. Why will they gasp?"

"Footer isn't my line, sir. "

"Hasn't been, Todd. Anyhow, they'll be delighted when you whistle themup. "

"I hope they'll be delighted when I've finished, sir, " said Gus, doubtfully. 

"One side won't, of course, " said Taylor, cheerfully. "That is natural, and the usual thing. Do you know, I never played football, but I likerefereeing immensely. Positive it's the best thing after playing, and Iknow that a really first-class referee is a very rare fowl. Of courseit's the off-side rule and, etc. "

Taylor delivered himself of a little homily on the subject of refereeing. He was enthusiastic almost to the point of forgetting his neuralgia, andTodd got quite interested in the theme so earnestly handled. He had notthought there was much fun in it until the house-master unfolded itspossibilities, but he took over the whistle fairly sanguine. 

"I'll do my best, sir, " said Gus, in conclusion; "and if they stone meoff the Acres----"

"I'll bury my reputation as a prophet under the missiles. "

In one thing Todd was certainly right. When he found Hargon's _v_. Sharpe's pitch and told the assembled twenty-two--rather diffidently, Imust own--that he was the deputy referee, they did gasp. 

"Show us your whistle, Gus, " said Higgins, Hargon's captain, doubtfully. 

Gus held it up, with a genial and childlike smile. 

"Got the rules in your pocket, too, I suppose. "

"I have, " said Todd--"for reference. But I know _now_, Higgins, thatgoal-keepers cannot take more than two steps with the ball, and----"

Sharpe's lot guffawed at Todd's neat little thrust at Higgins's littlefailing as a goal-keeper. 

"But don't you worry, Hig; I'll see you through all right. Three-quartereach way, I suppose?"

Todd gave his whole mind to the refereeing, and soon warmed to business. He found that there was heaps more fun in it than he had bargained for, and as he was a sharp, quick, and clever youth he came out of the ordealwith flying colours. He made mistakes, naturally, but momentous issuesdepended on none of them, and he felt he had not done so badly whenHiggins, at half-time, spoke to him as one in authority to another. ButPalmer, the captain of Sharpe's lot--the beaten side--put the copingstone to a pleasant afternoon by asking Gus to referee for them againstMerishall's. Gus walked off the field a happy man. 

From that afternoon Todd had no excuse for loafing away any halfer. Hisservices as referee were in demand, not merely as a matter of utility, but of preference. Taylor, who had watched rather anxiously Todd'sprogress, smiled easily at the success of his understudy. 

"I say, " said Bourne to me, "what's come over Todd? Blessed if that usualass didn't handle the Fifth _v_. Sixth to-day simply beautifully. When you're lynched, Gus will fill your shoes completely. Talks so-so, too. Who's improving him?"

I acted on Phil's advice, and Todd and I parcelled out the outstandingfixtures between us. Then Todd became one of the best-known fellows inthe school, and strolled up the hill with Worcester, Acton, Vercoe, andother heroes as to the manner born. The old, lazy, shallow, shifty, shiftless Gus was drifting into the background every day. 

Then Todd gave us a final shock. I was hurrying down the High when aconstable asked me if I could tell him "where a young gentleman namedTodd lived. "

"I'm passing by his house, " said I, more than a trifle puzzled as to whatthe police might want with Gus. "Hope it isn't house-breaking, constable?"

"No, sir, " said he, laughing. "It is a matter of ice-breakin'. "

I expect I looked mystified. 

"Mr. Todd, sir, fished out of the water just below the Low Locks a commonordinary drunk, Robins--a bargee. That was yesterday afternoon, and thismorning the superintendent sends me to see how he is. "

I looked more blankly ignorant than before. 

"He's kept it dark, I see, sir. There isn't a bigger fool alive thanRobins when he's drunk--which he mostly--what is--and he acted yesterdayup to the usual form of drunks. He _would_ go on the ice just belowthe locks, when it would hardly bear a sparrer, let alone a drunk Robin, and he naturally goes under before he'd gone a dozen yards. Mr. Todd wentfor him without, I fancy, considering the risks. He broke the ice up tothat forsaken Robins, and waded in after him. When _we_ got there hewas up to his neck in water, and he'd got the fool by the collar; then wepulled 'em both out. Mind, up to his chin in that frozen water! Wethought Robins was a goner from cold when we landed 'im, and asked Mr. Todd's name as bein' likely to be required at the inquest. But, blessyou, sir, Robins pulled through all right; that sort generally does. "

"Was there any one to help Todd, when he went for the fellow?"

"No, sir; he just waded in and took his chance. I wouldn't--at least notfor an ord'nary drunk. Mr. Todd just ran home as he was: said the sprintwould warm him to rights. How is he?"

"Got a vile cold; he was barking pretty well all chapel. "

"And Robins, " said the policeman, in disgust, "doesn't own up to asnuffle. This Mr. Todd's house, sir?"

"Yes. I'd just ask to see Mr. Taylor, the house-master, first. I fancyhe'll be pleased to see you. "

The constable's plain, unvarnished tale gave the Rev. E. Taylor aspleasant a ten minutes as he had enjoyed for some time, and he passed onthe worthy man to the butler with instructions as to "something hot. "Then he rapped on Todd's door. 

Decidedly the ship _Agustus Vernon Robert Todd_ "had found herself. "

CHAPTER XVII

RAFFLES' BILL

It was with hearty thankfulness at the idea of being finally rid ofRaffles that Jack walked over to the "Lodestone" by himself on theThursday, jingling his last few shillings in his pockets. Raffles waswaiting for him in the stables, and he was very friendly and familiar, which always annoyed Jack immensely. 

"Glad you're in time, sir, and to 'ear the dibs a-rattlin' in yourpockets. "

"Because they'll rattle in yours, soon, I suppose. I make out I owe youabout ten shillings, Raffles. "

"'Ow do you make that out, Mr. Bourne?"

"Rabbits, cartridges, and dummy pigeons. I'm about right, I fancy?"

"Right as far as they go. "

"As far as they go, of course--not farther. Then here you are. "

"And the gun, " said Raffles, calmly, looking into vacancy, and notseeing Jack's coins--"leastwise, wot was a gun. "

"Am I to pay for that filthy article?" said Jack, angrily. "Why, itnearly blew my brains out!"

"'As'e to pay for that breech-loader gun?" said Raffles, laughingsoftly as at some good joke. "Why, of course you have. "

"My opinion is, Raffles, that that gun was rotten. It wasn't worth asovereign. I don't believe it was ever fit to shoot with, now. "

"Of course, _now_, " said Raffles, with a sneer. "_Now_, when you've gotto pay for it. "

"I don't know so much about 'have got to pay for it' at all. That grinof yours doesn't improve your looks, Raffles, " said Jack, who was rathernettled by Raffles' sneer. 

"Well, my bantam cock, " said Raffles, savagely, "I only 'opes as this'ere bill won't spoil yours. And let me tell you, young shaver, I wantthe money. "

Jack calmly took the piece of note-paper which Raffles hurriedly fishedout of his pocket, and flourished dramatically before Bourne. There wasa touching simplicity about Raffles' bill-making that would in ordinarytimes have made Jack split with laughter, but, naturally, at the presenttime he did not feel in a very jovial frame of mind. Hence he readthrough the farrago with only one very strong desire--to kick Rafflesneck and crop out of the stable. This was the bill:--

 Mr. Burn owes me daniel raffles this money. 

 To bunneys at sixpence each. .. 2 0 To 50 cartrigges. .. .. . 6 6 To pidgins. .. .. .. .. 1 6 1 gunn breech loder. .. .. . £7 0 0 _______ totel £7 10 0

"Now, Raffles, " said Jack, in a white heat, "what do you mean by thisrotten foolery?"

"There's no foolery about it, " said Raffles, sulkily. "That's my bill. "

"Why, you unspeakable rascal, did you fancy I'd pay it?"

"I did, and I do. "

Something in the fellow's tone made Jack a trifle uneasy, and heconsidered within himself for a moment what he had better do. That therascal had made up his mind to be nasty was evident, and when Jackthought that the gun, poor as it was, was destroyed, though through nofault of his own, he thought perhaps he might give his old jackalsomething as a solatium. 

"All right, Raffles! I'll pay you for what I owe you now, and I'll giveyou a sovereign for the gun. I'll send you that in a day or two. I've nomore money with me now. "

"That ain't the bill. I want this 'ere bill paid. "

"'This 'ere bill' is sheer rot!" retorted Jack. 

"Rot or not, it's what I want from you. You pay up that seven odd, or itwill be the worse for you. What is seven odd to a young gent like you?Aren't you all millionaires at St. Amory's?"

"Not by a long chalk. "

"Well, I don't want to be unpleasant, my buck, but if you won't pay overI'll show you up. "

"Show me up, you beast--what do you mean?"

"I'll write to Corker and blow the gaff. "

"If you did that, " said Bourne, grimly, "I'd kill you first day I coulddo it. "

[Illustration: "I'M GOING TO HAVE THE SEVEN TEN, OR SHOW YOU UP. "]

"Or I'd write to your brother. "

"And he'd do it now, you skunk!"

"No names, young gent. That won't pay my bill. You don't seem to imagineI mean what I say. "

"No, I don't, for you wouldn't be any _nearer_ getting the money. "

"But then you say you aren't going to pay anyhow, so I may as well touchyou up a bit. You've most every time told me not to be so beastlyfriendly, and I ain't going to be. I'm going to have the seven ten orshow you up. That's straight. "

"Show me up, " repeated Jack, blankly. "You miserable blackmailer!"Bourne felt then the beautiful feelings of being in the grasp of alow-bred cad who could play with him as a cat with a mouse. He satstaring in front of him livid with rage, and Raffles, who was watchinghim covertly, and with no small anxiety, could see he was digesting thewhole situation. Jack would indeed then and there have let Raffles dohis worst, and would have stood the racket from Corker--and hisbrother--rather than be blackmailed by the villain by his side, but hesaid hopelessly to himself, "How can I do it without bringing Acton intoit? When this comes out all his training with the Coon must come outtoo; perhaps he'll lose his monitorship for not keeping his hand on me, and Phil's done him a bad enough turn already. I can't round on him. Heavens! I can't do that. "

This reads rather pitiful, doesn't it, under the circumstances?

Jack at the end of his resources tried a desperate bluff. 

"I'll put Acton on your track, my beauty, and perhaps he'll make yousee--or feel--reason. "

"That game's no good, young shaver. I don't want to see Mr. Acting nomore than you want to tell him of your little blow-outs. Look here, areyou going to pay? Yes or no?"

"I haven't got the money, " said Jack, at his wits' end. 

"Ho! that's very likely, " said Raffles, with a sneer; "anyhow, you couldmighty soon get it if you wanted to. "

"How?"

"Why, borrow it, of course. Ask your chum, Mr. Acting. _He_ 'as money. No end of brass, the Coon says. "

"I can't do that, " said Jack, in utter despair. 

"Orl right, " said Raffles, seeing his shot had told. "I see you ain'tgot the money on you now, and I don't want to be too 'ard on you. I'llgive you a chance. I'll give you till Saturday to turn it over. Myadvice is to borrow from Mr. Acting. He'll lend it you, I should think;anyhow, I can't stand shilly-shallying here all night, no more than Ican stand the loss of that grand gun, so I'm off. Have the money bySaturday at three, or I blow the gaff and you can be hung up or cut upfor all I care. I'm not going to be more beastly friendly nor morechummy than that. "

Raffles lurched off with a savage leer, and Jack staggered back to St. Amory's. 

Jack's life was a burden to him for the next few hours, his head nearlysplit with the hatching of impossible plans with loopholes to escape theweasel on his track, but the end was as Acton had foreseen. Acton got anote through Grim. 

"DEAR ACTON, "Could you give me ten minutes in your study to-night?--Yours, "J. BOURNE. "

"DEAR BOURNE, "Twenty, if you like. --Yours, "J. ACTON. "

Jack went, and when Acton put him into the easy-chair and noticed hiswhite, fagged face, he felt genuinely sorry for him. 

"You look seedy, young 'un. "

"I hope I don't look as seedy as I feel, that's all. "

"What's the matter?"

Jack boggled over what he'd come to say, but finally blurted out:"Acton, would you lend me seven pounds? I'm in a hole, the deuce of ahole; in fact, I'm pretty well hopelessly stumped. I'll tell you why ifyou ask me, but I hope you won't. I've been an ass, but I've collaredsome awful luck, and I'm not quite the black sheep I seem. I don't wantto ask Phil--in fact, I couldn't, simply couldn't ask him for this. I'llpay you back beginning of next term if I can raise as much, and if not, as much as I can then, and the rest later. "

"Oh, you're straight enough, young 'un, and I'll lend you the money, "said Acton. 

Jack blubbed in his thanks, for he was really run down. 

"Keep up your pecker, Bourne. Borrowing isn't a crime, quite. When doyou want the cash?"

"By to-morrow, please, " said Jack. 

"Call in for it, then, before afternoon school, and you can pay me backas you say. I suppose the sharks have got hold of you. "

"Yes, " said Jack, with perfect truth, though he only knew of one, and hewent to bed that night blessing Acton. His gorge rose when he thought ofhis fleecing, and at this he almost blubbed with rage as he blubbed withgratitude to Acton. 

That interesting Shylock, Raffles, was at the farm confidently waitingyoung Bourne and his coins, and when he saw the young innocent bowlingfuriously down the road, he sighed with satisfaction. His dream wastrue. 

"Write out the receipt. "

"I've already done it, Mr. Bourne. "

"Then here's your blackmail. "

"Correct to the figure, sir, and I think it's a settle, nice andcomfortable for all parties. "

"If it's any comfort for you to know you're an utter blackguard you canhear it. A fellow like you isn't on the same level as your filthymongrel. "

"I never said we was, " murmured Raffles, as he shuffled away. 

CHAPTER XVIII

HODGSON'S QUIETUS

Acton now felt pretty safe as regards young Bourne. He held him fast inthe double bonds of indebtedness and of gratitude, and with Jack thegratitude was by far the greater. Acton had saved him from disgrace, from a lengthened stringing up, from the scorn of his brother, from thejeers and laughter of the rest of the fellows. Like others, he couldhave stood Corker's rage better than the jokes of his cronies. He wasreceived back into the fold of his own particular set with more _éclat_than he felt he deserved. 

"Here's old Bourne gone and sacked Acton, " said Grim. 

"Sure Acton hasn't sacked him?" suggested Rogers. 

"Best fellow breathing, " said Bourne, fervently. 

"Still, he's Biffen's. "

"I don't care whether he's a water-lily or not--he can't help that, youknow, poor fellow. "

"Why should he? Aren't we cock house?"

"Where would you have been if Acton hadn't lifted you out of your muddypond, and let you see a little sunlight?"

"You should be his fag, " said Grim. 

"I'd jolly well like to, " said Jack. "I'd black his boots almost. "

"He's a dozen pairs, " said Grim. 

"Write a poem on his virtues, " suggested Rogers. 

"Shut up this rot, " said Wilson. "Let's try a run round the Bender--lastfellow stands tea at Hoopers. "

"Carried, _nem. Con_. , " said Grim, who was pretty speedy. 

And the reunited half-dozen cronies ran the three miles out and dittohome, Wilson subsequently standing tea, for, as he patheticallyexplained, "I was overhauling Rogers hand over hand when I slipped myshoe, else he'd have had to fork out. " Thus Jack became again for awhile the common or garden variety of school-boy, and he enjoyed thechange. 

 * * * * *

Phil Bourne came into my room the same evening that saw Jack Bournereleased from the toils of Raffles. 

"Busy, old man?"

"Not at all, " said I, pushing away my books. "Jolly glad you've comein. "

"There's a bit of news for you. I've just been in the gym. I fancy theold school will pull off the 'Heavy' at Aldershot. "

"Has Hodgson turned out so jolly well, then?"

"Hodgson! Oh no! Hodgson isn't going to be the school's representativethis year, I fancy. "

"Why, have you been in form to-night?"

"Look here, old man, you are quite out of it. You sit here reading upall that ancient lore about the cestus, and you could tell me the namesof all Nero's gladiators, and yet here at this establishment we've got agladiator who is going to make history, and you don't know it. "

"I thought you were the only fellow who could show Hodgson anything. "

"No, " said Phil. "I never was as good as Hodgson. I always made a pointof making him go all the way to win on principle, but he always had apull more or less over me. You see, Hodgson is lazy, and he wanted someone to challenge the right to represent the school, or I don't fancyhe'd have put in enough good work to stand much chance against the Etonman. Therefore I stepped into the breach, and, by sweating him, havemade Hodgson from a very fair boxer into a good one--good, but nothingsuper-excellent. "

"Then who's been lying low all this time?"

"Acton. "

"_Acton?_" said I, in utter astonishment. "Why, didn't our dear Theodoredress him down once for losing his temper in the gym?"

"He did, my boy, and Acton repaid the compliment to-night--withinterest. He opened our eyes for us. I'm telling the bare truth when Isay that he simply played with Theodore, and at the third round he asgood as knocked him out. "

I stared into the fire for a minute or two, thinking out this news. 

"Eureka!" said I. "I've found it!"

"What?"

"The reason Acton crops up here. He cannot forget an injury. Hodgsonhumbled him once, and so Acton must needs take away from Theodore hisown peculiar pet ambition, which is to represent St. Amory's atAldershot in the Heavy. "

"I wish, " said Phil, gloomily, "Biffen's Beauty's schemes always workedout so well for the school's honour. He'll represent St. Amory's withouta doubt. "

"Is he so very good, then?"

"Super-excellent, old fellow! Prodigious!" said Phil, with genuineadmiration. "We'll all sleep with both ears on the pillow when thetelegram comes from Aldershot. Such a left! He has a swinging, curlystroke which he uses after an artful little feint which would win thefinal by itself. Hodgson really seemed trying to catch quick-silver whenhe tried to get home on Acton. Where did Acton learn all this? Thesergeant hasn't got that artful mis-hit in his bag of tricks. "

"Don't speculate on Acton's doings or where he picks up what he knows. It's too intricate. "

"What a pity one can't go and shake his hand as one would like to do. Heis a marvel--this dark horse, " said Phil, with genuine regret, as alwayswhen speaking of Acton. 

"Our _bête noir_, " said I, without winking. 

"You heathen, " said Phil, laughing. "That was almost a pun. But I'mafraid I'm a bit selfish in my joy about Acton. Since he's a certainty, I can devote all my mighty mind to rackets. I don't think there is abetter pair in the place than Vercoe and self at present. "

"Oh, thou modest one!"

"'Toby' always finishes up 'When you and Mr. Vercoe goes to Queen'sClub, Mr. Bourne, I advise you, etc. ' So, 'Toby' evidently has no doubtwho's to go there. "

"Toby" Tucker was our racket professional, and when he spotted a pairfor the public-school rackets, Fenton, the master who finally chose thepair, never said "Nay. " "Toby" was incorruptible. With both his littleeyes fixed inexorably on merit, the greatest joys of his life wereconsummated when the St. Amory's pair brought the championship home. 

"Congratulate you, old man. If Acton pulls off the Aldershot and you andVercoe the rackets--"

"If I only felt as confident on our lifting that as I do of Actonbringing off his, I'd go straightway and smother 'Toby. ' He almost worksone to death. "

CHAPTER XIX

HOW THEY "'ELPED THE PORE FELLER"

As a rule, the laboratory was empty on half-holidays, and Gus used towork through his tables in solitude, when he tried a little"bottle-washing" as a change from the refereeing, but one afternoon hefound no less a person than W. E. Grim, the prize fag of Biffen's, doingsomething very seriously with a green powder. 

"Hullo, young 'un! What are you footling round here for?"

"Lancaster has given me this salt to analyze, Todd. I think there'scopper in it. "

"What have you been up to, that Lancaster has run you in? Half-holiday, too!"

"He hasn't run me in, " said Grim, sulkily. "As a special favour he's letme come in here to work a little myself. I did a ripping chemistry paperlast week, and--"

"Oh, I see. Are _you_ going to give Biffen's another leg up, too?"

"Just as soon as you give Taylor's one, " said Grim, who, in common withall the juniors, did not fear the easy-going Todd. 

"No cheek!" said Gus. "If I mixed up coal-dust and brick-dust, how'dyou separate 'em?"

"Ask my grandmother for a telescope, and look out the mix through thebutt end. "

"Quite so, " said Todd, chuckling. "I suppose you've given me a specimenof Biffen's latest brand of wit. Well, don't make too big a row inhunting for your copper, and then I'll not chuck you out. "

Grim murmured something disparaging Todd's authority for chucking out, but Gus languidly sidled off to his own particular bench, where, out ofsight of Grim, he prepared to do an afternoon's quiet work. 

Meanwhile Grim's particular cronies, Wilson, Rogers, Sharpe, Poulett, and young Bourne, arrayed in all the glory of mud-stained footer-togs, after vainly waiting outside Biffen's, were seeking high and low for thecopper-hunting chemist, who, for many reasons, had kept his afternoon'splan very dark. He knew only too well that his beloved chums would nothear of an afternoon's work, and would head him off either to footer ora run round the Bender. Therefore, immediately after dinner, he had madean unostentatious exit, and reached the laboratory in safety. 

"Where _is_ Grimmy?" said Sharpe. 

"Dunno, " said Wilson. 

"Did he know of our six-a-side against Merishall's lot?"

"Rather! Said he hoped we'd win. "

"_We!_ Why, is he backing out, then?"

"Well, we've waited for him half an hour, and there's no sign of himyet--look's like it. "

"What is up with him, I wonder?" said Poulett. 

"Seemed rather mysterious this morning--rather stand-offish to my idea. Perhaps, though, he's only guzzling buns or swilling coffee somewhere. Let's see. "

The quintette thereupon spread themselves out, but every shop was drawnblank. 

"Rum!" said Rogers. "Where can the ass be?"

"If we knew, Solomon, would we try to find out?" said Sharpe. 

"I say, you fellows--I've got an idea about Grimmy. Didn't Lancastergive him a leg-up for his chemistry the other day? Permission to footlein the lab. On half-holidays, and all the rest of it? Grim was no endcocky over that. "

"Grimmy waste a 'halfer' bottle-washing! Rot! That isn't his form, Wilson. "

"If, " said Poulett, impressively, "he _has_ sunk so low, we must givehim an 'elpin' 'and, pore feller!"

"Rather. If Lancaster has put the cover over old Grimmy we must get himout somehow. Let's adjourn to see. "

The honourable five forthwith moved over to the laboratory, and Grimreceived his beloved cronies with hot blushes and a rather nervousmanner. 

"I say, you chaps, what do you want?"

"What did we want?" said Bourne, as though he'd forgotten it. "What wasit, Rogers?"

"A fellow, formerly Grimmy, not a nasty bottle-washer, " said Rogers, more in sorrow than in anger. 

"But yesterday and Grimmy was an average back, and now he's holding upsome filthy brew to the sunlight to see how muddy it is. Oh, my greataunt!" chimed in Wilson. 

"How are the mighty fallen!" gasped Sharpe. 

"Look here, you fellows--" began Grim, with still more vivid blushesmantling his noble face. 

"'Ear, 'ear! speech! speech! withdraw! apologize!"

"I'm not ashamed of being here and doing a little chemistry for my ownamusement, so there; and you fellows had better cut before Lancastercomes and runs you all in. "

"That is all right, Grimmy. Lancaster's sporting a silk tile, so he'soff to town. To think of your cutting our six-a-side to puff down adirty blow-pipe! Come out, you idiot, and get into your footer togs!"said Sharpe. 

"I'm not coming, I tell you. "

"Insanity in the family, evidently, " observed Poulett, judicially. 

"Aren't you coming, really?"

"No, I'm not; do get out and leave me alone!"

"Never!" said Poulett. "We'll stay with him and see him through the fit, eh?"

"Rather! We'll never desert you, Grimmy!"

"We'll let the six-a-side slide for this afternoon, and we'll helpGrimmy with his salt, " suggested the egg-poacher, brilliantly; and anyamount of hidden meaning was in the word "help. "

"We will! we will!" cried the rest, spotting Poulett's idea instanter, with enthusiastic joy; and despite Grim's frenzied declamation andeloquence they all "helped. "

For two hours--as lively a couple of hours as ever were passed withinthe laboratory--Gus lay low behind the far bench and enjoyed theafternoon's performance far more than Grim. The green powder underwentsome weird experiments, each of the quintette availing himself of Grim'sknowledge and test-tubes and acid-bottles with the utmost freedom. Theanalysis of Lancaster's mixture gave various results, but when Rogers"found" rhubarb and black-lead this was held the correct find, and afterthis verdict the generous five put up the test-tubes in the rack. Theyall said Rogers had settled the matter, and anyway they had had a jollytime. 

"Understand, " observed Poulett, as he washed away some acid stains fromhis bare knees, "that Grimmy is not ashamed of his black-lead andrhubarb hunt. "

"Why those vivid blushes, then?"

"We never bargained that old Grim would copy that Fifth Form ass, Todd, and chum up with Lancaster, did we?"

"What did you say about Todd?" inquired Grim, suavely. 

"Said he was an ass. "

"A what?"

"An ass, a jackass, a howling jackass!" cried Poulett, _crescendo_. 

"How?"

"Remember Corker pitching into him? Said he wasn't fit for a decentnursery, and Toddy had his mouth open all the time. "

[Illustration: THE GREEN POWDER UNDERWENT SOME WEIRD EXPERIMENTS]

"Bully Cotton has given Toddy up. Toddy was too big an ass even forCotton, " remarked Wilson. 

"He looks fairly intelligent, " observed Grim, in a gentle whisper. 

"So did you, almost, till you started fooling like this. "

Grim artistically kept the conversation on Todd, and Gus learned howlike an ass each individual of the quintette thought him. He smiledgently at Grim's astuteness in paying him out so neatly for his previousfriendly remarks about chucking out. When the first stroke of theroll-call bell reached the laboratory he emerged solemnly and with statefrom his retreat, and stalked quietly through the knot of his outspokencritics, who were instantly besieged by a variety of emotions. He closedthe laboratory door after him, and, when he saw the key outside, thetemptation to repay the left-handed compliments of Poulett and Co. Intheir own coin was too strong. Gus gently turned the key, and washalfway down the corridor before the band arrived at the locked door. 

"Let us out!" shrieked Rogers. "We'll apologize all of us--won't we, Poulett?"

"Yes!" yelled Poulett. "Anything! Oh, Todd, do let us out!"

But Todd went on his way, serenely ignoring the frantic appeals behindhim, and turned out into the street with a sweet smile on his face. 

"That beast, Todd, has gone, and Merishall will ladle us out threehundred of Virgil for missing call-over, " moaned Bourne. 

"It's four hundred, if Merishall takes it, " said Rogers, with direconviction. 

"Not for me, " said Grim, beaming cheerfully around; "I'm all right. I'lltell Merishall that the door was locked; but as for you five idiots, whooughtn't to be here at all--well! What the dickens did you want to callold Toddy all those fancy names for, you silly cuckoos?"

"Oh, look here, Grim, you artful bounder, " shouted Poulett, bitterly, "you've got us into this mess. Why didn't you say Todd was behind thoseback benches?"

"Yes, why?" shouted the rest of the raging fags. "We'll scrag you forthis, darling. Cuckoos are we? Scrag him--put him in the scrum. "

W. E. Grim had a very bad five minutes, but when he crawled out of thescrum, hot, damaged, and dusty, he said viciously--

"I hope Merishall gives you a thou. , you beastly cads. You've mucked upmy afternoon, and I'm hanged if I don't tell Lancaster. "

Ten minutes after roll-call the janitor let them out, and shortlyafterwards a wretched procession of five emerged from Merishall's roomwith two hundred lines from Virgil hanging over each head for a missedcall-over without excuse. Grim worked an artistic revenge on hisscrummagers by calling personally the next half-holiday to inquire ifthey would prefer to analyze a green salt or to play a six-a-sideagainst Merishall's lot. In every instance a Virgil hurtled towards hishead. Having done his duty to his friends, he left them to pious Æneasand the slope of Avernus, whilst he got another salt from thescience-master, and, with Gus, possessed the laboratory in peace. 

CHAPTER XX

ACTON'S TRUMP CARD

On the Saturday before we should go home Acton was due at Aldershot, andwould return the same night, as the fellows hoped, with his laurelsthick upon him. Bourne and Vercoe were staying at school a week laterthan we, for the rackets did not come off until our holidays hadcommenced. Toby had begged for this almost with tears in his eyes, forhe had a mortal dread of the relaxing process of a week at home. 

"You'd have no 'ands, Mr. Bourne, no spring, no eyes, when you toed themark at Kensington. I'll send you fit if I have you here. "

So Vercoe and Phil agreed to stay. 

And now Acton determined to put into operation his long-thought-ofscheme for the paying off of the score against Phil. It was subtle, andfounded on a perfect knowledge of Bourne's character, and a perfectdisregard of the consequences to any one--even including himself. Actonwould have willingly martyred himself, if he could have inflicted alittle of the torments on Bourne too. 

There was one rule from which Dr. Moore never swerved a hair's breadth. Compared to this particular law the stringency of the Old Gameregulation for Thursday was lax indeed. He never had departed from it, and he never would depart from it. If any fellow took it into his headto slip out of his house after lights out at ten on any pretencewhatever he was expelled. There was some legend in connection with thisseverity, what exactly none of us rightly knew, but according to thetale the escapade of two fellows years ago, when Corker was new to theplace, had resulted in one of the fellows being shot. Twice had heexpelled fellows while I was at school--Remington and Cunningham--and Icannot ever forget the old man's deathlike face as he told them to go. Some fellows broke out and were not found out, for Corker wasn't goingto have any barred windows as in some places. Any one _could_ break outany night he liked, but he knew what he might expect if he were caught. There was no help. Remington had been found out, and though there hadbeen Remingtons in the school since Anne's reign, Corker was inexorable. He was expelled. 

In a word, Acton determined to go to London and to take young Bournewith him, and so risk certain expulsion for both, supposing they werediscovered. He had no intention of being expelled, though; for he likedthe life at St. Amory's, where incense floated round him all day long, but he meant, when he had accomplished the ruin of Jack, to let Bournesenior know it. Acton gloated in advance over Phil's anger, shame, andconsternation, and--this was the cream of the joke--his utter inabilityto do anything except keep silence and chew the bitter cud of hopelessrage against him--the man to whom he would not give the footer cap. Acton never thought of Jack's share in the matter at all, and yet he wasgenuinely fond of him; all he thought of was what would be Philip'shopeless rage. 

Phil, of course, could say nothing to Corker, for he knew it would behopeless. And Acton knew that Phil's pride could never bear the idea ofJack--a Bourne--being expelled from the old place. Therefore he wouldkeep silence. I don't think I used the wrong adjective when I said itwas subtle. The only question was--could he so manage that Jack wouldgo? And Acton for good reasons was pretty certain that he could. 

Jack was staidly taking a turn up and down the pavement with Grim when, on passing by Biffen's house, he heard a whistle from one of thewindows, and, on looking up, he saw Acton. 

"I want you, Bourne, for five minutes--if you can spare them. "

"Of course he can, " said Grim, _sotto voce_. "Aren't you a monitor?Jack, my boy, Acton wants to knight you--or something. You'll find hisboots in the bottom cupboard, if you want to black 'em very much. Isuppose, being only a common or garden fag, my feelings aren't to beconsidered for a moment. When you were--for once--talking sensibly for aCorker fag, you are called away to----"

"Cork all that frivol, old man, till you see me at tea, " said Jack, moving into Biffen's yard. 

When Jack was comfortably installed in a chair, Acton bolted his door, and, somewhat to young Bourne's surprise, seemed rather in a fix how tostart what he had to say. The locking of the door was unusual, and this, combined with Acton's grave face and hesitating manner, made Jack atrifle uneasy. Whatever was coming?

"I say, Bourne, " at last said his friend, "do you know anything aboutbetting?"

"Betting!" said Jack, with a vivid blush. "About as much as most of thefellows know of it. Not more. "

"Well, do you mind reading this?" He handed Jack a slip of paper whichcontained such cryptic sentences as: "Grape Shot gone wrong, though hewill run. Pocket Book is the tip. If you're on Grape Shot, hedge on bestterms you can get, " etc. 

"I understand that, " said Jack, "you've--if this means you--you'vebacked the wrong horse. "

"Exactly, " said Acton. "I backed Grape Shot for the LincolnshireHandicap, and he hasn't a ghost of a chance now. Gone wrong. "

"I see, " said Jack, absolutely staggered that Acton, a monitor, shouldtell him, a fag, that he was betting on horse-racing. 

"I see, young 'un, that you seem surprised at my little flutter, but, byJove! this will have to be my last. Do you know, Bourne, I'm in an awfulhole. "

"I'm very sorry to hear it, " said Jack, with no end of concern. 

"You see, if Pocket Book pulls the handicap off before I've time to trimmy sails, I lose a lot. "

"Much, " said Jack, "_for you?_"

"Thirty pounds. "

"Whew!" whistled Bourne. 

"I get a good allowance from home, Bourne, but I'm bound to say thirtypounds would cripple me. "

"Rather, " said Jack, with a gasp. 

"Of course, if the worst did come to the worst, I'd have to apply tohome; but there would be, as you might guess, no end of a row about it. "

"Then you must hedge, " said Jack. 

"That is it, exactly. I must back Pocket Book for first place. This is asure tip--I can depend upon it. "

"Then send to the fellow you bet with, and let him put you on PocketBook. "

"That is just it, Jack--the bookmaker wouldn't take a bet from me. "

"Why ever not?" said Jack, mystified. 

"Because I'm a minor--I'm under age. "

"Then how do you manage?" said Jack. 

"Why, I bet through another man. "

"I see, " said Jack, for this was but another edition of his own littleadventures. "And that man----"

"Is Raffles, " said Acton, quietly. 

Jack bounced out of his chair as if he had been stung. "That beast!" hegasped. 

"Raffles?" said Acton, with a slow smile. "I didn't know he was abeast. "

"He is the meanest skunk alive, " said Jack. He added fervently, "Acton, have no dealings with that fellow. He is an abominable sharper. "

"Thanks, " said Acton, with a slight grimace at Jack's advice. "But, allthe same, I have to deal through Raffles. "

"Then write to the fellow. "

"I don't know--I've forgotten his address. "

"Well, I'm hanged if I understand it!" said Jack, lost in astonishment. "If you don't know it, and your bookmaker will only bet through Raffles, you are in a hole--a marvellously deep one. "

"There's only one way out--find Raffles. "

"And that you can't do. "

"And that I think I can do by going to London. "

"Well, we're off for the holidays on Tuesday, and you can find Rafflesthen. "

"I should be hopelessly too late if I waited till then. It would bealmost ruinous to be put on to Pocket Book in a day's time. I must hedgeto-night. "

"To-night?" said Jack, in a complete fog. "And you haven't foundRaffles!"

"No, but I think I know where to find him to-night. You know the Coon ishaving a match with the Battersea Beauty at the Universal Sporting Club, and Raffles is pretty sure to be there, and I must see him then. "

"But that means going to London, Acton. "

"Certainly. "

"And Corker would expel you--even you. "

"Without a doubt--if he finds out. "

"There's a chance that he may. "

"Certainly, but it's a mighty slender one, and in any case I mean to--I_must_--risk it. "

"I'm awfully sorry for you. "

"Now, Jack, I want you to listen to me, " said Acton, very gravely, andhis voice showed his genuine anxiety. "The Coon's match does notcommence until eleven o'clock at night, because an awful lot of theUniversal Sporters are actors and they cannot get away before that timeat earliest. Now, there are two entrances for the members into the club, one in Pelican Street and the other in Ridge Street. Raffles must enterby one or the other, and there must be some one at each doorway to givehim my note. I can take the one, and the question is--who will take thesecond doorway?"

"Not I, Acton, " said Jack, in a blue funk. "Please, Acton, don't askme. "

"Jack, believe me, you were the last person I wanted to ask. I wouldhave asked Worcester or Chalmers if it had been any good, but they wouldnot know Raffles from Adam. It is ten thousand pities, but you are theonly fellow who knows Raffles here. No one else has ever set eyes onhim. "

"Acton, it means expulsion, " said Jack, hoarsely. 

"Certainly for me if I'm caught, but, of course, I've no idea of beingcaught. Jack, I'm not going to ask you to come with me. I shall think noworse of you if you say you won't come, and I cannot take advantageover you to force you against your own wish, because I lent you money. Don't think so meanly of me. "

"Acton, " said Jack, sweating drops of terror, "it _is_ expulsion ifwe're caught. "

"Jack, " said Acton, "have you ever known me to fail yet in anything Iundertake?"

"No. "

"Well, I _will_ not fail here. If you like I'll give you my word ofhonour we shall not be caught, and, if by a miracle of ill-luck weshould be, I shall see you through. I'll take every iota of blame on myown shoulders. You'll find yourself captain of the school one day yet. "

"If I were expelled, Acton, " said Jack, with intense conviction, "thepater would kill me first, and die himself afterwards; and as forPhil----"

"Jack, " said Acton, "I must see the business through myself. You can'tdo it, I see. I must lose the £30. "

Jack got up and walked up and down the room in agony. 

For five minutes Acton watched his wretched prey torn to pieces by hisconflicting fears--his shame of leaving Acton in the lurch, and hisdread of discovery. 

"Acton, " said Jack at length, "I can't leave you in the lurch. I'll gowith you to London. "

Acton clasped Jack's hand, and said, "Jack, you are a brick. I can onlysay I thank you. " He had landed his fish, as he knew he would. 

Half an hour afterwards Jack said, almost cheerfully, for Acton hadbeen doing his best to smooth poor Bourne's ruffled feathers--

"But how are we to go to town?"

"I've got a plan, " said Acton; "but I must turn it over in my mindfirst. If you'll look in, young 'un, after tea, I'll tell you how we doit. I'm going to see about it now. Once again, Jack, I thank you. You dostand by a fellow when he's down on his luck. "

Acton and Jack went out--the monitor to make arrangements for theescapade, and Jack to Grim's quarters, where he was due for tea, whichhe demolished with comparative cheerfulness, for Jack's confidence inActon was illimitable. After he had taken the jump he was not--is notnow--the kind of boy to look back. 

At six young Bourne left his friend Grim among a waste of empty teacups, plates, and jam-pots, and went to Acton's room. 

"I've arranged all, " said that worthy. "I've seen the proprietor of thehotel down at Bring, and he's going to have a smart dog-cart and asmarter horse to do the dozen miles between here and Charing Cross readyfor us at nine. He says we shall be rattled into town within the hour. So if we aren't in time to spot Raffles we are down on our luck with avengeance. Your room is on the ground floor, isn't it?"

"Yes, " said Jack, "overlooking Corker's flowerbeds. "

"Well, pull up the window after supper as quietly as you can, and slipinto the garden. Then scoot through the field, and you'll find mewaiting for you in the hotel stables. You can pass the word to yourchums in Corker's that you aren't going to be on show after supper, andthen they won't be routing you out. "

"My chums are mostly in Biffen's, " said Jack. "Grim and Rogers, etc. "

"Good omen, " said Acton. "Leave your window so that you can easily shoveit up when you come back, and leave your school cap behind, and bring atweed instead. Got such an article?"

"Yes. "

"How's your room lighted?"

"Oh, we have the electric. It is switched off at ten, so that the lightwill not give any trouble, Acton. "

"Well, bolt your door, too. It seems as though the fates were fightingfor us, eh, young 'un?"

CHAPTER XXI

LONDON AND BACK

At nine that night the two, as agreed upon, met at Dring in the hotelstables. There had been no mishaps. 

The groom was busy putting the horse into the trap, and, when Jack sawwhat a really smart turn-out Acton had engaged, his fears began tooccupy less of his thoughts and the pleasures of a rattling hour's spina jolly lot more. Punctually to the minute Jack climbed up beside thedriver, the place of honour, and Acton swung himself up behind; the yarddoors were flung open, and the gig rattled smartly out. The hotelproprietor had not chanted the praises of his horse in vain. On thelevel road it laid itself out to go for all it was worth. 

The pleasant music of the jingling harness and the scurrying of thewheels made as jolly a tune as Jack could wish to hear. There was atouch of frost in the air, which made the quick motion of the gig biteshrewdly on his cheeks, and made him button up his overcoat to the chinand settle his cap well over his ears. Acton threw out jokes, too, frombehind, which made Jack feel no end clever to listen to them, and thedriver now and then restrained his horse's "freshness" with the soothingmellow whistle which only drivers possess. The farmhouses, hayricks, andan occasional village, drifted past now to the right, now to the left, and occasionally they overhauled a leisurely belated cyclist, who atonce began to take an unimportant position in the rear, his lamp growingless and less down the stretch of long white road. 

Soon the houses began to come more frequently, then came the streetswith their long avenues of yellow lights, and within the hour they wererolling smoothly over the wooden pavements. 

"Piccadilly, " said Acton. "Drop us at the top of Whitehall, will you?Then you can take the horse to the mews. Be ready for us outsideFrascati's by twelve. Understand?"

"Yes, sir, at Frascati's by twelve! I know the place. " A minute or twolater the two swung off in Trafalgar Square, and the driver rattled awayinto the crowd. 

Jack was delighted. "Spiffing run, Acton, eh?"

"Glad you liked it, young 'un. Now let us localize the UniversalSporting Club. I know it's about Covent Garden somewhere. " Together theywent up the crowded Strand, Jack enjoying every minute of the bustlingwalk to the Garden and imagining that he was a very much daring youngdesperado to be so far from his little white bunk at St. Amory's. Hewould have been usually fast asleep by this time. 

The Universal Sporting Club was not a difficult place to find, andthough all its windows were lighted up, upon its fast shut doors weretwo little notices: "This door will be open at 11 p. M. None but membersand friends admitted. "

"Well, " said Acton, "we've got about twenty minutes before there's anyparticular need to begin our watch for Raffles, but some of the membersare hanging round now. The early birds get the best perch for the show. On the whole, perhaps you'd better prowl about this door now, whilst Igo round the corner and see if I can run our fox to his earth. "

"All serene, " said Jack. "I'll mark time out here till I see you. "

Acton walked round the corner, and Jack perambulated about, peering intothe faces of the idlers to see if he could spot the well-known andmuch-detested face of Raffles. He had (of course) no luck. 

Five minutes afterwards Acton came back smiling. "Almost first fellow Iran against was Raffles, and I've given him his instructions. He'llhedge for me with the bookie within five minutes. "

"So you're quite safe now, Acton?" said Jack, beaming. 

"Oh, quite, " said Acton, laughing. "Now, Jack, you've been no endbrickish, and I'm going to treat you. Ever seen a ballet?"

"No. "

"Well, you shall. "

A hansom flitted slowly up to them, and Acton hailed it. "In you get, Jack. Kingdom!" said Acton to the cabby. They glided noiselesslythrough the lighted streets, and in a minute or so were before the"Kingdom Theatre. " The two hurried up the steps, and Acton asked anattendant if the ballet were rung up yet. 

"No, sir. Two stalls, sir? Certainly. Twelve and thirteen are vacant. "

Jack had never seen a ballet before, and when the gorgeous ballet"Katrina" slowly passed before his eyes, and he followed the simplestory which was almost interpreted by the lovely music, when every freshscene seemed lovelier than all the rest, and fairyland was realizedbefore his eyes, his face beamed with pleasure. 

"This _is_ ripping, Acton. Isn't Katrina lovely? Jove! I'd hunt forRaffles every blessed night if there was a 'Kingdom' to finish up with!"

His enthusiasm amused Acton. 

"It is very pretty, Jack, certainly. "

For nearly an hour did Jack sit entranced, and when the orchestracrashed out the last floods of melody in the _finale_, and when most ofthe audience rose to go, he trotted out with Acton in a dream. 

"We'll have a little supper at Frascati's, young 'un, and then home. "

Frascati's completed the enchantment of Bourne. The beauty of thesupper-room, the glitter of snowy linen, of mirrors, and the invitingcrash of knives, and the clink of glasses, the busy orderliness of thewaiters, the laughter, chatter of the visitors, the scents, the sightsand sounds, fascinated him. Acton ordered a modest little supper, andwhen Jack had finally pushed away his plate Acton paid the bill, andwent out to find the driver. He was there, the horse almost waltzingwith impatience to be off. The two swung themselves up, and in anotherminute they were whirling along back to St. Amory's. 

The St. Amory's clock could be heard striking the half hour after onewhen Jack and Acton parted at the corner of Corker's garden. 

"Jack, " said Acton, "good night! and you need not trouble about the £7. You've done more for me than that, and I shall not forget it. "

Jack, almost weeping with gratitude, said, "Good night, Acton!" in afervent whisper, and scuttled over Corker's flower-beds. He pushed uphis window and crawled through, and, seeing that all was as he had leftit after supper, he undressed and jumped into bed, and in a few minutesslept the sleep of the just. 

Acton had managed his re-entrance just as successfully--did he everfail?--and the thought of Bourne's hopeless rage, when he should findout about Jack's escapade, made him sleep the sleep of the happy man. Hewas made that way. 

[Illustration: HE PUSHED UP HIS WINDOW AND CRAWLED THROUGH. ]

CHAPTER XXII

THE PENFOLD TABLET FUND

The Easter term had been one of unadulterated discomfort for Jim Cotton. He had felt the loss of Gus's helping hand terribly, and he had not yetfound another ass to "devil" for him in the way of classics ormathematics. Philips, a former understudy to Gus, was called upon, butwith unsatisfactory results, and Cotton, _mirabile dictu_, was compelledin sheer desperation to try to do his own work. Frankly, the Fifth ofSt. Amory's was beyond Jim's very small attainments, classical orotherwise. He had been hoisted up to that serene height by no means_honoris causa_, but _aetatis causa_. Jim was verging on six feet, andhe filled his clothes very well into the bargain, and though hisscholarship was strictly junior school, the spectacle of Jim in FourthForm Etons would have been too entrancing a sight for dailycontemplation. Hence he had got his remove. Thrown over by Gus, unableto discover a second jackal for the term so far, he had been left to thetender mercy of Corker, Merishall and Co. , and Jim was inclined to thinkthat they showed no quarter to a fallen foe. Corker had been distilledvenom on the particular morning with which this chapter deals on thesubject of Jim's Greek. Herodotus, as translated by Jim with the help ofa well-thumbed Bohn's crib, had emerged as a most unalluring mess ofpottage, and Dr. Moore had picked out Bohn's plums from Jim's paste withunerring accuracy. Whilst Cotton was wishing the roof would fall down onCorker's head and kill him, the other fellows in the Fifth were enjoyingthe fun. Gus Todd, though, felt for his old friend more than a touch ofpity, and when old Corker left Jim alone finally, Gus very cleverly kepthis attention away from Jim's quarter. When Corker finally drew his togaaround him and hurried out, Jim Cotton gathered together his own booksand lounged heavily into the street, sick of school, books, Corker, andhating Gus with a mighty sullen hate. For Jim had remarked Gus'ssprightliness in the Greek ordeal, but was not clever enough to see thatGus's performance had been only for old friendship's sake. Jim, however, put down Todd's device as mere "side, " "show-off, " "toadyism, " and otherchoice things, all trotted out specially for his eyes. When he reachedhis room he flung his Herodotus into the nearest chair, and himself intothe most comfortable one, and then beat a vicious serenade on hisfiregrate with the poker until dinner time. 

In the evening, while Jim was moodily planted before a small pile ofbooks, he received a visitor, no less a personage than Philips, Jim'soccasional hack. 

"Well, " said Jim, surlily, "what do you want?"

"I'll tell you in a minute, old boy. Can I have a chair?"

"Can't you see I'm busy?" said Cotton, unamiably. 

"You look like it, more or less, certainly. "

"Well, I've no time for any oratory to-night, Philips, and that is allabout it. "

"I'll give you a leg-up for Merishall in the morning if you're decentlycivil. "

"All right, then, " said Jim, thawing instantly. "What's the matter?"

"Ever heard of Penfold?"

"No; what was the animal?"

"Well, he was the brightest and most particular star that Taylor everhad in his house; that is, until you pitched your tent among us. "

"Don't rot, Philips. What has the Penfold done?"

"Made a chemical discovery which stamps him as one of the firsthalf-dozen chemists in the world. "

"Oh, " said Jim, wearily; "most interestin', very. "

"Here only ten years ago, and, 'pon honour, this was his very den. "

"Have noticed the place to be stuffy, " said Jim, with no enthusiasm, "and now that is explained. Suppose he lived with his nose in books andtest-tubes?"

"And, " said Philips, ignoring Jim's heavy wit, "the Fifth and Sixth Formfellows in Taylor's think we ought to take notice of it somehow. "

"Now, I wouldn't, " said Cotton, critically; "I'd keep a thing like thatdark. "

"You heathen!"

"If he'd pulled stroke at Cambridge, or anything like that----"

"We thought a tablet on the wall, or something of that sort, would meetthe case. Corker's dining-hall is lined with 'em. "

"Get to the point, " said Jim, grimly. 

"A sub. Of five shillings among seniors, and half a crown among thekids, would meet the case, I think. "

"And did you think I'd spring a crown for a marble tablet to a mug likePenfold?"

"Rather, " said Philips. 

"Well, " said Jim, "life would be worth living here if it weren't for theunearthly smugging, but as it is St. Amory's is about as lively as aworkhouse. I'm not forking out on this occasion. Taylor's smugs must doall that is necessary to be done. "

"Well, " said Philips, "all the other fellows have given in their names, bar you and Todd. "

"Oh!" said Jim, with sudden interest, "you've asked Todd, have you?"

"Of course. Gus seemed rather waxy that he should be called upon. Onemight almost fancy he hadn't got the five shillings. "

"Todd evidently is a miserable miser, " said Jim, with a bitter smile atthe thought of Gus's insolvent condition. "He isn't the same fellow heused to be. "

"Jove, no!" said Philips; "he's come on no end this term. He's animprovement on the old Gus. "

"Yes, " said Jim, angrily; "the beaks have got him into their nets. Buthe ought to subscribe to the Penfold, when he's the biggest smug inTaylor's. "

"And you ought too, Jim, since you've the biggest money-bags. "

"All right, " said Jim, "I'll subscribe. 'Twill look better if we allsubscribe. "

"You're a funny ass, Cotton. I thought I was going to draw you blank. What's the reason for your sudden change of mind?"

"I don't want to be bracketed equal with Toddy. "

"That's settled, then, " said Philips, who was puzzled at Jim's suddenchange of front. "And now let's see to Merishall's work for themorning. "

The subscriptions for a tablet in the great Penfold's honour were nothard to obtain, the upper form fellows in Taylor's dunning the rest ofthe house without mercy, and, to the great wonder of all, the foremostof the duns was James Cotton, Esq. The way he squeezed half-crowns outof the fags was reckoned little short of marvellous, and before the weekwas out every Taylor fellow had subscribed bar Gus. Jim's exertions wererewarded by the office of secretary to the Penfold Fund. 

"We'll get a house list, Philips, and pin up a proper subscription liston the notice-board. The thing will look more ship-shape then. By theway, what was it the Penfold did? Is he dead?"

"You are a funny fellow, Cotton. Here you are sweating the half-crownsout of the fags and you don't know why you're doing it. "

"That is just what I do know, " said Jim, smiling serenely. 

When the list was pinned up on the board, and opposite each fellow'sname appeared the half-crown or crown he had contributed, it made abrave show. Towards the end of the list opposite the name of Todd, A. V. R. , there had occurred a dismal blank thoughtfully filled bysecretary Cotton with a couple of beautifully even lines ruled instaring red ink. This vivid dash of colour on the white paper gave poorGus quite an unsolicited advertisement, and since none of the otherfellows knew of Gus's circumstances, it practically put him in thepillory as a tight-fisted old screw. This result was exactly what JimCotton had in his mind when he fell in with the tablet scheme soenthusiastically. Pretty mean, wasn't it?

When Gus saw the staring red abomination for the first time it made himfeel that he would like to pour a little boiling oil over the secretaryof the fund, for to a fellow of Gus's temperament the chaffing remarksof his acquaintances and the knowing looks of the juniors made himshiver with righteous anger. He did not like being pilloried. He haddesperate thoughts of going and publicly kicking Cotton, but heremembered, fortunately, that Jim would probably only make one mouthfulof him. But he paced his room angrily, and except that he really meantto keep himself to his resolution of honourable poverty to the term'send he would have written home. Not to do so cost him a struggle. 

There was some one else who eyed this plain manifesto of Gus's positionwith anger, and that was the Rev. E. Taylor himself. The house-masterhad not been a house-master for years for nothing, and he guessed prettyshrewdly that some one was writing off a debt with interest against Gus. The house-master made a still shrewder guess as to who this might be, for he had watched the dissolution of the partnership of Cotton and Toddwith great interest. 

Thus it was that Philips was called into Taylor's room for a quietlittle chat on house matters. "Your idea of a memento to Penfold was anexcellent one, Philips, and the house seems to have taken it up veryheartily. "

"Oh yes!" said Philips, naïvely. "The fellows have taken any amount ofinterest, especially Cotton. "

"Cotton's is rather a case of Saul among the prophets, isn't it, Philips?"

"This sort of thing didn't quite seem his line before, sir. "

"No; I never thought so myself; but it is very pleasant to make amistake, too. I see Todd, who is the best chemist in the house, does notsubscribe at all. "

"Most of the fellows thought it rather strange. "

"And said so, no doubt?" said the master, looking abstractedly at hisfinger-nails. 

"H'm!" said Philips, feeling uncomfortable at this thrust. "They mayhave. "

"You see, Philips, " said Taylor, gently, "there ought to have been noquizzing of Todd, for a contribution to a matter like this ought to beentirely voluntary--most emphatically so, I think. And if Todd does notsee his way to subscribe--and he is the sole judge--there ought to be noremarks whatever. "

"I see, sir, " said Philips, dubiously. 

"I was much annoyed to see that Todd's name has been prominently beforethe house for the last day or so. "

"You mean on the notice-board, sir?"

"Yes; I can quite see why it is. The honorary secretary has not had muchexperience in this clerical work before, so he has fallen into a greatmistake. In fact, " said the house-master, bluntly, "the secretary'staste is not to be depended on. "

"I don't think Cotton meant anything----" began Philips. 

"Well, perhaps not, " said the Rev. E. Taylor, doubtfully; "but, in anycase, will you take down the present list, and draw up a fresh one--ifyou think one at all necessary--with only the names of subscribers uponit? A house list should not have been used at all. Please tell Cotton Isaid so, and I hope he will see the fairness of it. "

Philips took down the offending list, and told Cotton the house-master'sopinions. Jim Cotton had not very quick feelings, but contempt canpierce the shell of a tortoise, and as Philips innocently retailed themessage, the secretary of the Penfold Tablet Fund knew there was one manwho held him a cad. 

CHAPTER XXIII

BOURNE _v. _ ACTON

Jack had gone to London with his patron on Thursday. On Saturday morningActon went to Aldershot, carrying with him the hopes and good wishes ofthe whole of St. Amory's, and at night the school band had met him atthe station. They (the band) struggled bravely--it was very windy--with"See, the Conquering Hero comes!" in front of the returned hero, who was"chaired" by frenzied Biffenites. The expected had happened. Acton hadannihilated Rossal, Shrewsbury, and Harrow, and in the final had met theredoubtable Jarvis, from "Henry's holy shade. " The delightful newscirculated round St. Amory's that Acton had "made mincemeat" of Jarvis. He had not, but after a close battle had scrambled home first; he hadwon, and that was the main thing. 

As Acton walked into chapel on Sunday morning with Worcester, Corker gotscant attention to his sermon; the fags to a man were thinking ofActon's terrible left. The gladiator lived in an atmosphere of incensefor a whole day. 

As Phil Bourne was finishing breakfast on Monday morning his fagbrought him his letters, and, after reading his usual one from home, heturned his attention to another one, whose envelope was dirty, and whosewriting was laboriously and painfully bad amateur work. 

"Rotherhithe, " said Phil, looking at the post-mark. "Who are my friendsfrom that beauty spot?"

I give the letter in all its fascinating simplicity. 

 "Rotherhithe, Sunday. 

"Dear Sir, "I was sory as how I did not see you on thursday night when youcame with Acting to Covent garden to do a small hedging in thelinkinsheer handicap. I think since you did a fare settle about thegunn and pade up my little bill like a mann you would deserve the showat the "Kindumm" and the blow out at that swell tuck shop as MisterActing said he was going to treat you to for coming with him to london. I hopes you enjoyed em and As how that stiff necked old corker yourbeak--won't never find out. "As you gave him the Propper slip and no Errer your beastly Chummy "Daniel Raffles. "

The letter had evidently been meant for Jack, but had naturally reachedPhil, since the envelope was directed to "Mr. Bourne. "

Bourne, when he had struggled to the end of this literary gem, droppedthe letter like a red-hot coal. Was it a hoax, or had Jack really goneup to town, as the letter said?

The "Mister Acting" made Phil's heart sink with dire forebodings. 

"Go and find young Bourne, Hinton, and tell him to come here to my studyat once, or as soon as he's finished breakfast. "

Jack came in whistling a jolly tune; he was in full bloom, for had henot now left all his cares behind him?

"You can cut, Hinton; and, Jack, take a chair and give me an explanationof this letter. "

Jack read Raffles' letter through to the bitter end, and wished he hadnever been born. Phil eyed his young brother, who had turned deathlywhite, with the horrible certainty that Jack had gone up to London. 

"Then it's true?" he said. 

No answer. 

"Jack, I know you could speak the truth once. Look at me. Did you go toLondon on Thursday night?"

"Yes, " said Jack, faintly. 

"Did Acton take you?"

"Yes. "

"You know that if Dr. Moore hears of it he will expel you. "

"Yes. "

"You went to oblige Acton?"

"Yes. "

"Did you ever think what pater would think if he heard about this?"

[Illustration: "CUT, YOU MISERABLE PUPPY!"]

Jack, as a matter of course, had thought many a time of what his fatherwould think about the business, and when Phil in that level voice of hisrecalled him to this terrible point he broke down. 

"Phil, do not tell pater; he'd never forgive me! Nor Corker. Cut me intoribbons if you like, only don't let me be expelled. "

"Here, " said Phil, "I don't want any snivelling in my room. Cut, youmiserable puppy, to your own quarters, and when school is over keep tothem till I come. You're a contemptible little puppy. "

Jack hurried out, crunching Raffles' letter in his fist. He wentstraight to Acton's room, and, bursting in whilst Acton was drinking hislast cup of coffee, blurted out the dismal news. Jack was almosthysterical in his rage against Raffles. 

"Acton, I believe that filthy blackmailer meant Phil to get that letter:he wanted to round on me and get me into trouble. Oh!" said Jack, in avery explosion of futile rage, "if I could only pound his ugly face intoa jelly. "

"Well, perhaps you'll have that pleasure one day, Jack. I hope so, anyhow. Now, straight, Jack, you need not be frightened of your brothersaying a word. He could never risk Corker hearing of it, for he couldnot bear the chance of expulsion, so he'll lie low as far as Corker isconcerned, take my word for it. He may hand you over to your father, butthat, too, I doubt. He may give you a thrashing himself, which I fancyhe will. "

"I don't mind that, " said Jack. "I deserve something. "

"No, you don't, old man; and I'm fearfully sorry that I've got you intothis hole. But your brother will certainly interview me. "

"I suppose so, " said Jack, thoughtfully, even in his rage and shame. "Ihope there is no row between you;" for the idea of an open quarrelbetween Phil and Acton made Jack rather qualmish. 

"You'd better cut now, Jack, and lie low till you find out when thehurricane is going to commence. "

Jack went away, and as the door closed softly behind him Acton smiledsweetly. 

"Well, Raffles has managed it nicely, and carried out my orders to thestrokings of the t's. He is quite a genius in a low kind of way. And nowI'm ready for Philip Bourne, Esq. I bet I'm a sight more comfortablethan he is. " Which was very true. 

I, of course, knew nothing of all these occurrences at the time, and thefirst intimation I had that anything was wrong was when Phil Bourne cameinto my room and gave me a plain unvarnished account, _sans_ comment, ofActon's and young Bourne's foolery in London. 

"I'm awfully glad, old man, that I am able to tell you this, because, although you're Captain of the school, you can't do anything, sinceActon is a monitor. "

(It is an unwritten law at St. Amory's that one monitor can never, underany circumstances, "peach" upon another. )

"Well, I'm jolly glad too, Bourne, since your brother's in it. "

"What has to be done to Acton? Jack, of course, was only a tool in hishands. "

"Oh, of course. It is perfectly certain that our friend engineered thewhole business up to and including the letter, which _was_ meant foryou. "

"Do you really think that?" said Phil. 

"I'm as certain of it as I can be of anything that I don't actually knowto be true. "

"Why did he do it?"

"Do you feel anything about this, old man?"

"I feel in the bluest funk that I can remember. "

"Then, that's why. "

"You see, I cannot put my ringer on the brute. "

"He has you in a cleft stick. Who knows that better than Acton?"

"I'm going to thrash Jack, the little idiot. I distinctly told him togive Acton a wide berth. "

"Jack, of course, is an idiot; but Acton is the fellow that wants thethrashing. "

Phil pondered over this for fully five minutes. 

"You're right, old man, and I'll give--I'll try to give--him thethrashing he deserves. "

"Big biz, " said I. "You say you aren't as good as Hodgson; Hodgson isn'tin the same street as Acton; _ergo_, you aren't in the same parish. "

"That's your beastly logic, Carr. Does a good cause count for nothing?"

"Not for much, when you're dealing with sharps. "

"I see _you've_ inherited your pater's law books. The school goes hometo-morrow, doesn't it? Well, my Lord Chief Justice, in what relation doyou stand towards the school to-morrow? Are you Captain?"

"No, " said I, in my best legal manner. "There is no schoolto-morrow--_ergo_, there cannot be a captain of a non-existent thing. To-morrow is a _dies non_ as far as I'm concerned. Why this thirst forknowledge, Phil?"

"Because I want you to be my second against Acton, and I didn't wantyour captaincy to aid or abet me in a thing which is against rules. "

"I see, " said I, warmly, "and I will sink the rules and all the rest, and trust to a little rough justice being done on an arrant scamp. "

"Thanks, " said Phil. "With you as second and a good cause, I ought toteach Acton a little genuine lesson. "

"I'd rather trust in a good straight left. "

"All right, then. I'll see Acton now, and bring him to the point. "

"Do, and let me have the result. "

Phil swung off in that cool, level-headed fashion which is peculiarlyhis own. He had thought the matter out thoroughly in that five minutes'brown study, and now that he had put his hand to the plough he would notlook back. I liked the set shoulders and his even step down thecorridor. Surely something must reach Acton now! He walked down thestreet, turned in at Biffen's yard, and mounted up to Acton's room. Heknocked firmly on the partly open door, and when he heard Acton's "Comein, " walked solidly in. 

Acton smiled amiably when he saw his visitor, and, with his half-foreignpoliteness, drew out a chair. 

"No, thanks, " said Phil, icily; "but, if you've no objection, I'd liketo close your door. May I?"

"By all means. "

"My opinion of you, Acton----"

"Why trouble about that, Bourne; I know it. ". 

----"is that you're an unmitigated cad. "

"Gently, friend, gently, " said Acton, half getting up. 

"You, by your foul play, have disfigured poor Aspinall for life----"

"Bourne, you're a monomaniac on that subject. I've had the pleasure oftelling you once before that you were a liar. "

"And you did not get your 'footer' cap for it, which seems such a paltrypunishment for so villainous a crime. "

"That is stale, stale, " said Acton, coolly. 

"You entice my brother to London, which means expulsion for him if it isfound out by Dr. Moore. "

"I believe that's the rule. "

"The expulsion of Jack would bring disgrace on an honest name in theschool and give pain to an honest gentleman----"

"The pity o' 't, " said Acton, with a sneer. 

"And so, since you, by a kind of malicious fate, seem to escape allproper punishment----"

"You should be a parson, Bourne. "

"I'm going to try to give you your deserts myself. "

"An avenging angel. Oh, ye gods!"

"Do you mind turning out at the old milling ground at seven sharpto-morrow morning?"

"The mornings are chilly, " said Acton, with a snigger. "Besides, Idon't really see what pressing obligation I'm under to turn out at thattime for the poor pleasure of knocking you down. "

"I never thought you were a coward. "

"How charitable!"

"But we must bring you to book somehow. Will you fight--now?"

Before he had time to avoid the blow Phil had struck him lightly on theface. For one half second a veritable devil peeped out of Acton's eyesas he sprung at Phil. But Phil quickly backed, and said coolly, "No--no, sir! Let us do the thing decently and in order. You can try to do allyou wish to-morrow morning very much at your ease. I apologize forstriking you in your own room, but necessity, you know----"

"Bourne, you'll regret that blow!"

"Never, " said Phil, emphatically, and with cutting contempt. "I haveasked Carr to second me. I dare say Vercoe would do the same for you. Hehas the merit of being a perfectly straightforward fellow, and since hedoes not go home like the rest to-morrow----"

"Thanks. Vercoe will do excellently. He is a friend of yours, too!"

"I'm glad to say he is. "

"Well, you may now be pretty certain there will be no foul play, whatever else may follow. I'll teach you wisdom on your front teeth. "

"I dare say, " said Phil, as he coolly stalked out, and left Acton curledup on his chair, like a cobra balancing for its stroke. 

CHAPTER XXIV

A RENEWED FRIENDSHIP

One morning Gus was much astonished to receive a letter containing ablank sheet of notepaper enfolding a postal order for £1. This wasproperly filled in, payable to A. V. R. Todd at St. Amory's Post-office, but there was not the slightest clue as to the sender. Gus looked at theblue and white slip in an ecstasy of astonishment. Now, Gus knew that noone was aware of his bankrupt exchequer save Cotton, and he knew thatJim was not likely to have said anything about it for one or two verygood reasons, and would now keep it darker than ever. If it were knownthat Gus had been practically pilloried for being penniless by thefellow who had lifted his cash, Cotton would have heard a few fancyremarks on his own conduct which would have made his ears tingle. Guspondered over this problem of the sender until he felt giddy, but hefinally came to the conclusion that Cotton had regretted his politeattentions to an old friend, and had sent the order as a kind of _amendehonorable_. Gus instantly regretted the fervent wishes about the boilingoil and the public kicking for Jim Cotton, and he also determined to goand thank his old patron for what he was sure was his anonymous gift. 

So, after breakfast, he cashed the order and, with pockets heavier withcoin than they had been for some time, he went to Jim Cotton's room. Jimreceived him with an odd mixture of anger and shame, and when Gus handedover to him two half-crowns, Cotton in some confusion, told him to handthem over to Philips, who had initiated the subscription for the Penfoldtablet. 

"Thought you were the secretary?" said Gus. 

"No! I'm out of the boat now. Philips is the man, " said Cotton, sulkily. 

"And, by the way, Jim, it wasn't half bad of you to send me that order. It was no end brickish, especially after I had left you more or less inthe lurch. "

"What order?" said Jim, looking curiously at Gus. 

"What's the good of trying to pass it off like that, old man? It couldonly be you. "

"I don't know what you're driving at. You seem to be talking rot, " saidCotton, angrily, for he fancied that Gus was fooling him in some way. 

"Well, I've got an order for £1 this morning, envelope stamped St. Amory, and it could only come from some one who knew I was stumped, andyou're the only fellow who knew that, unless, indeed, you've been kindenough to tell some of the fellows. "

"I've told no one; and anyway, I didn't send the order. "

"Oh, rot!"

"Thanks! I don't tell lies as a rule, and I say I know nothing whateverabout your order. I think you'd better cut now, instead of wasting mytime with this rotten foolery. "

"You didn't send it?" said Gus, finally, with more than a dash ofirritation in his voice at the continued boorishness of Cotton. 

"No, I tell you! Shall I get a foghorn and let you have it that way?"

"Then, look here, Cotton. If you didn't send it, your underscoring of myname on the house list because I couldn't subscribe was the act of anarrant cad. "

Cotton winced at Gus's concise definition, but he said, "Oh, get out, you fool!"

"Fool, or not, " said Gus, becoming more angry every moment as he thoughtof his wrongs, "I'm not an underbred loafer who cleans a fellow out ofhis cash and then rounds on him because he can't pay his way. Why, aWhitechapel guttersnipe----"

"Can't appreciate the allusion, " said Jim; "I've never been toWhitechapel. But anyhow, Todd, there's the door. I think you had reallybetter go. "

"Not till I've said you're the biggest bounder in St. Amory's. "

"Now you've said it you really must go, or I'll throw you out!"

Gus was too taken up with his own passion to notice that Cotton was alsoat about the limit of his patience, and that Jim's lips had set into agrim and ugly sneer. Todd was furiously trying to find some clinchingexpression which would quite define Jim's conduct, when that gentlemantook one stride forward and caught him by the collar. The grip, the verytouch of Cotton's fingers maddened Gus beyond all bearing. His angerbroke loose from all control; he wrenched himself out of Cotton's graspand passionately struck him on the mouth. 

Cotton turned grey with passion as bitter as Todd's and repaid Gus'sblow with interest. Gus dropped to the floor, bleeding villainously. Cotton thereupon jerked him to his feet, and threw him out of the room. 

Gus picked himself up from the corridor floor and went to his own room, his face as white as a sheet and his heart as black as ink. What Gussuffered from his passion, his shame, his hatred, and the pain of hisold friend's blow, for the next few hours words will not tell. Heattended morning school, his head in a whirl of thought. Cotton wasthere too, and, could looks have killed, Jim Cotton would not have beenin the land of the living for very long. When Merishall went, Gus waiteduntil all the form had filed out, and, still dizzy and sick, he wearilyfollowed suit and turned in at his own door. As Gus came into the roomsome one rose up and faced round to meet him, and Todd found himselfonce more face to face with Cotton. 

Now, the blow which had tumbled down Gus so heartily had, so to speak, tumbled down the striker in his own mind just as thoroughly. JimCotton's mind was not a subtle one, but the minute after he had flooredGus and shut the door on him, his better mind told him distinctly thathe was a cad. Why? Because when he struck Gus the feeling was as thoughhe had struck a cripple. Gus had doubled up under the weight of his handas though he had been a leaf. Cotton dimly felt that for a fellow of hisbuild and weight to let Gus have the full benefit of both was not fair. "That is how it must feel, I suppose, to strike a girl. My fist seemsunclean, " he said, in huge disgust. "I'd give Todd his three sovs. Backif I could recall that blow. I wish I'd left the fool alone, and anyhow, it's my opinion I don't shine much in our little squabble. Todd has beenplaying the man since his Perry cropper, and I've been playing the cadjust because he was once useful to me and I did not want to let him go. "Cotton devoted the next few hours to a little honest unselfish thinking, and the result was that he came pretty near to despising himself. "I'llgo and apologize to Gus, and if he shies the poker at my head I'm hangedif I dodge it. "

That is why Gus was received in his own room by the fellow who had solately knocked him down. Gus stared at Jim, his swollen lip tremblingwith anger and his eyes blazing with indignation. 

"I say, Gus, old man, I am an utter out-and-out cad, and I've come toapologize. "

Gus murmured something indistinctly. 

"When I knocked you down I did the most blackguardly thing that even Ihave ever done, and, you may believe me or not, I am now about disgustedwith myself. I felt that there was only one thing that I could do, andthat was to apologize. "

Jim was so obviously cut up by remorse that Gus thereupon buried thehatchet. He did not throw the poker at Jim's head, and you may besurprised to hear--or you may not--that Gus and Jim Cotton took theirafter-dinner coffee at Hooper's, as in the old time. The conversationwas _staccato_ at first, but interesting. 

"But who sent the order?" said Gus. 

"Dunno, really; but I could almost bet my boots that Taylor is thecriminal. "

"Taylor! What does he know of my affairs?"

"Well, that beastly house list with your red raw agony column made himmost suspicious, and I believe he knows to a hair exactly how big a cadI've been. "

"Go on, old man; leave that. "

"He sucked Philips dry about the Penfold tombstone, and although he saidnothing to me personally, Philips gave me to understand that I'm not infavour with the parson. Taylor is the man who's provided your sub. Forthe Penfold, take my word for it. "

"He's not half such a bad fellow, Jim. "

"No, " said Jim, with an uneasy laugh; "Taylor's all right, but he'llmake me squirm when he has the chance. "

The friendship of Cotton and Todd was thus renewed and cemented--withGus's bluest blood. Gus gave Jim some good advice about the schools, which made Jim feel a bit dubious. 

"Chuck your Bohn's cribs and your keys under the grate, and show upyour own work. "

"Footle, you mean, Gus. "

"All right, footle, then. I know all our own private personal beakswould rather have a fellow's own work, if of fair quality, than all theweirdest screeds from any crib whatsoever. "

Jim made the experiment, very gingerly, be it said, but did show up hisown work, and from Corker to Merishall all the beaks were civil to him. Gus's reputation as a prophet was established, for Corker himself seemedpleased with the Cottonian version of Herodotus. 

"Rather rough in parts, Cotton, " said the old man, beaming on theshrinking Jim; "but at least you've not been ploughing Herodotus withthe help of your old ass, Bohn. "

Jim's effort, however, came too late to affect in any degree hisposition in the Fifth. When the lists of the Easter term were published, Cotton was the last, deservedly, of the form, but A. V. R. Todd was theseventh. This was an eye-opener to many in the form, but the result sentGus into the seventh heaven of delight. Taylor came specially intoTodd's modest sanctum to congratulate him, and Corker sent an extraspecial letter to Todd senior, saying all manner of sweet things aboutGus. He put the highest mark of his favour upon the delighted Gus byasking him to dinner--a very great honour, but a dreadful ordeal. Guswas wonderfully nervous as he commenced his soup. How do I know? Well, Ihad been asked, I believe, to give the bewildered Gus a littlecountenance. Gus went home, a day or two later, to the bosom of hisfamily, where he was treated with the utmost honour. He redeemed thewatch from the jeweller, and fulfilled his own promise to that worthyman. All through the holidays he basked in the smiles of his proudfather, and rode that gentleman's pedigree hack. Corker's highest markof appreciation was to give you a dinner; with Gus's father it was tolet you ride his own horse. 

CHAPTER XXV

A LITTLE ROUGH JUSTICE

Quietly and without any fuss the few details were arranged, and nextmorning four of us filtered down to the old milling ground, on whosegreen sod so many wrongs had been righted in the old times, and where Isincerely hoped Phil would yet redress, however imperfectly, another. 

Of course, we all know fisticuffs are not what they were; for everystrenuous mill of to-day there used to be fifty in the old days, and thegreen turf which formerly was the scene of terrific combats betweenfellows of the Upper School now only quaked under the martial hoof of, say, Rogers, the prize fag of Biffen's, and Poulett, the champion eggpoacher of Corker's, and other humble followers of the "fancy. " Millingas an institution in the schools may write up "Ichabod" above its gates. 

I tossed with Vercoe for corners, and when I won, I chose the favouritecorner, the one King had when he fought Sellers with a broken wrist, andbeat him, too; which Cooper had when he stood up to Miller for one wholehalf-holiday, and though beaten three or four times over, never knew it, and won in the end, which mills and the causes thereof, if some onewould write about them, would make capital reading. Anyhow, it is alucky corner, from the legends connected with it, and I thought weshould need any luck that might be knocking about so early in themorning. 

Phil was as cool and calm as though he were going to gently tund a smallfag for shirking. Acton was outwardly calm, but inwardly seething withhate, rage, and blood-thirstiness. His proud soul lusted for theopportunity to repay the flick on the face he had received from Phil, with interest. I watched the sparkling fire in his eye, the unaffectedeagerness for the fray in his pose, and thought that even Acton had notquite the skill to cater for such a large and lusty appetite. Vercoe andI set our watches, and agreed to call time together, and then we movedeach to our corner. Phil peeled as quietly as though he were going tobed, Acton with feverish haste, which perhaps was his foreign bloodworking out; beside Acton's swift, impulsive movements Phil's leisurelyarrangements seemed sluggish indeed. 

"Time!" said Vercoe and I in chorus, and I added in an undertone to myman, "Go in and win. "

It was obvious from the start that Phil was not as good a man as Actonas far as skill was concerned, but when it came to well-knit strengththere was no doubt that Phil had the pull. Acton's eagerness was adisadvantage against one so cool as Bourne. In the very first round, Acton, in his overwhelming desire to knock Phil out in as short a spaceas possible, neglected every ordinary precaution, and, after a spiritedrally, Phil broke through Acton's slovenly guard, and sent him spinninginto Vercoe's arms. We called time together, and to my intensesatisfaction the first round resulted in our favour. 

After that, thoroughly steadied by Phil's gentle reminder, Acton droppedall looseness, and began to treat Phil with the greatest respect, nevertaking any risks, but working in a scientific fashion, which poor Philfound hard enough to parry, and when he could not do that, hard enoughto bear. But he never faltered; he took all that Acton could give him inimperturbable good temper, working in his dogged fashion as though hewere absolutely confident of winning in the long run, and asdisregarding present inconveniences because they were expected, andbecause the ultimate reward would repay all a hundred-fold. 

There was also something else I noticed. Acton did not do so much damageas he ought to have done, and I found him constantly "short, " but whenPhil did score there was the unmistakable ring of a telling blow. I waspuzzled in my mind why Acton was so "short, " but I think now it wasbecause he had never done anything but with gloves on, and fisticuffs, which were more or less familiar with Phil, were unknown to him. Theydon't fight, I believe, in France or Germany with Nature's weapons, butoccasional turn-ups with the farmers' sons and the canal men had, ofcourse, fallen to Phil's share. 

On each occasion that Phil got home, Acton answered with a viciousspurt which did not do much good, but only tired him, and at the end ofthe seventh round I was astonished to think that Phil had stood theracket so well. Phil's lips were puffy, and one eye was visiblyswelling, and he had other minor marks of Acton's attention, but he wasin excellent condition still. Acton was damaged above a bit, and Phil'sfirst-round reminder showed plainly on his cheek. 

Acton began to think that unless he could make Phil dance to a quickertune pretty soon, he himself would be limping round the corner ofdefeat, for he was very tired. When we called them up for the eighthround, he had evidently determined to force the fighting. Much as Idisliked Acton, I could not but admire his splendid skill; he bottled upPhil time and again, feinted, ducked, rallied, swung out in the nick oftime, planted hard telling blows, and was withal as hard to corner as asunbeam. As I sponged Phil at the end of the eighth I felt that threemore rounds as per last sample would shake even him, so I said, "Try, old man, for one straight drive if he gives you a ghost of a chance. Don't try tapping. "

Acton came up smiling; in a twinkling he had Phil at sea by histrickiness, and was scoring furiously. Then, for the first time, Philbacked, shortly and sharply. Acton sprang forward for victory, and ahuge lunge should have given Phil his quietus, but it was dreadfullyshort, and stung rather than hurt. Phil recovered the next moment, andwas on the watch again cool and cautious as ever. Then Acton, followingan artless feint which drew Phil as easily as a child, ducked the blowand darted beneath his guard. I gave Phil up for lost. How it happened, though I was watching carefully, I cannot say, but Acton seemed toslither or stumble on the turf as he rushed in, and for one second hewas at Phil's mercy. 

At that very instant Phil's arm flashed out, and with a blow which wouldhave felled an ox, he caught Acton between the eyes. Acton dropped tothe ground like a bludgeoned dog. 

Phil, like a gentleman, backed a yard or so away, waiting for Acton toget up again, but he made no sign. Vercoe and I then counted him outwith all due formality, and Phil had won at the very moment he was aboutto be beaten. We did our best for Acton, who was unconscious, and, justwhen we began to despair of bringing him round, he opened his eyes withthe usual vacant stare. In a minute he recovered his thoughts, and saideagerly, "Then I've won. "

"Not quite, " said Vercoe, grimly. "You've jolly well lost. "

Acton tottered to his feet blind with rage--diabolic rage--but hate andfury couldn't give him strength to stand. Vercoe gently caught him, andlaid him quietly on his back, and sponged his face where the awful forceof Phil's blow was becoming plainer every moment. 

He compressed his lips with rage and pain, and looked at Phil with sucha look of deadly hatred that Vercoe was disgusted. 

"Now come, Acton. You've fought well, and, by Jove! you ought to losewell. Bourne fought like a gentleman, and you've been beaten fairly. What is the good of bearing any malice?"

"Look here, Acton, " said Phil, "I'm jolly glad I've thrashed you, butall is over now. Here's my hand, and we'll let bygones be bygones. "

"Never!" said Acton. "I'll get even with you yet. "

"So be it, " said Bourne; and he turned away, and got into his coat, leaving Vercoe and Acton on the field of battle. "Don't care to mentionit, old man, " he said to me as we got to his room, "all the same, Ithought I was a gone coon just when I knocked the fellow out. "

I went for my holidays that morning, and Acton, escorted by Vercoe, gotinto the same train. He was white and almost scared looking at hisdefeat, but there was on his face still that unfading expression ofunsatisfied hate and lust for revenge. I buried my face in my paper inutter disgust. 

So you see Acton departed from St. Amory's at the beginning of theEaster holidays in a slightly different mood from that which he enjoyedat Christmas, when the young Biffenites had cheered him till they werehoarse and he was out of hearing. 

Toby was almost beside himself with consternation when Bourne and Vercoeturned up at the Courts in the afternoon. 

"Your 'ands, Mr. Bourne, and your eye! What have you been a-doing of?"

"I have had the painful necessity to thrash a cad, Toby. "

"But you did thrash him, sir?"

"I fancy so, " said Bourne, grimly. 

Jack went home in the evening a sadder and wiser boy. When he saw hisbrother's closed eye and swollen lip, and the angry patches on hischeeks, he was cut to the heart; he took his thrashing like a man, and, when all was over, felt he loved and respected his brother more thanever. "What a beastly little pig I've been, " he said to himself. 

Vercoe and Bourne were the victorious finalists at Kensington in therackets. It was, as the papers aptly remarked, "Quite a coincidence thatBourne's right eye was beautifully and variously decorated in honour ofthe occasion. "

I don't expect many finalists, at rackets anyhow, turn up with blackeyes. 

CHAPTER XXVI

THE MADNESS OF W. E. GRIM

Grim and Wilson had come back to St. Amory's firmly convinced thatBiffen's was the most glorious house that had ever existed, and that itwould do--thanks to Acton, Worcester, and the dervishes--great thingswhen the cricket housers came round. 

"Grimmy, " said Wilson, "you'll have to try to get into the team thisyear. You would last, if your batting hadn't been so rotten. "

"All right, old man; don't rub that in too often. "

"You put in a lot of extra practice at one of those bottom nets, Grimmy, and you'll find Worcester'll shove you in first choice, almost, thisgo. "

"Serene. Shall we try to raise a bottle of cherries now, " said Grim, lazily, lounging from net to net. "It's heaps too soon to think ofhousers yet. "

"You conceited ass, Grimmy! Not for you. Your batting is too awful. "

"Don't worry now. Oceans of time, I tell you. We'll try some cherries, eh?"

The pair strolled lazily off the field, and made several purchases inthe preserved fruit line, and then adjourned to their common room forrefreshment. 

But, as time went on, Grim did not fall in with Wilson's arrangementsquite as enthusiastically as that single-hearted Biffenite would haveliked him to. A fortnight passed, and Grim had only put in theregulation practice at the nets to Wilson's intense disgust, and thetime that should have been devoted to extra cricket was "wasted, "according to that ardent Biffenite, in doing, of all things, needlesslyelaborate translations for Merishall. 

"Whatever is the good of getting the very word the beak wants, Grimmy. Ialways translate _Carmen_--a song. Does it matter a cherry-stone that itsometimes means a charm? What good does it do you, you idiot? It onlymeans that Merishall is harder on us. Think of your friends, Grimmy, do. If I didn't know you were a bit cracked, I'd say your performance wasundiluted 'smugging. '"

"Cork that frivol, do, " said Grim, who was stretched full length on thegrass and gazing skywards with a rapt expression in his eyes, "and lookover there. How beautiful it is!"

"How beautiful what is?" asked Wilson, astonished. 

"The sunset, you ass!"

"I don't see anything special about it, " said Wilson. "An ordinaryaffair!"

"Ordinary affair! Ugh, you idiot. Look at those lovely colours minglingone with another, those light fleecy clouds floating in a purple sea, that beautiful tint in the woods yonder, that--that--"

"Steady, Grim. Take time, " said Wilson, squirming away from his chum. 

"Wilson, you haven't any soul for beauty. A sunset is the loveliestsight on earth, you duffer. "

"Didn't know a sunset ever was on earth, " said Wilson, sarcastically. 

"Is that funny?"

"All serene, Grimmy, " said Wilson, elaborately agreeing with his friendas a mother might with a sick child. "Matter of fact, it is rather fine. Not unlike a Zingari blazer, eh?"

"Zingari blazer!"

"Exactly like. And that pink on the trees would do for the Westminstershirts. "

"Blazers and shirts, " cried Grim, in disgust. "Oh! get out. "

"Let's get in, Grimmy, instead. You'd better see the doctor. 'Ponhonour, you aren't well. "

"I can't help it, " said W. E. Grim, resignedly, "if you haven't any soul. Yes, I'll come. I've got Merishall's work. "

There was a coolness that night between the two friends as they sat atthe opposite sides of their common table doing their work for Merishall, and Wilson was determined to find out what was disturbing theiraccustomed peace. He had soon done his modicum of prose and forthwithbroached matters. 

"Let's have this business out, Grim. It will do you a lot of harm if youkeep it in. "

"The fact is----" began Grim, hesitating. 

"Allez! houp-la!" said Wilson, encouragingly. 

"I'm going in strong for poetry. "

For reply Wilson laughed as though his life depended on the effort, andGrim turned a rich rosy hue. Wilson finally blurted out--

"Grim, you're an utter idiot. "

"What do you think about it?"

"Nothing. "

"I thought it would surprise you. "

"It has, but nothing you do ever will again. Lord, Grimmy, was it forthis you chucked cricket and your chance of the house eleven?" Wilsonexploded again, uproariously. "I'll tell Rogers and Jack Bourne. You apoet!"

"Why shouldn't I be, you silly cuckoo?"

"Why, you haven't got the cut of a poet, for one thing, and for another, I believe, next to your mother, the thing you like best in the world isa good dinner. " Wilson waxed eloquent on Grim's defects from a poet'sstandpoint. "Your hair is as stiff as any hair-brush; you can't denyyou're short and a trifle beefy; and was ever a poet made out of yourmaterial and fighting weight?"

"That isn't criticism, " said Grim, angrily. 

"No, " said Wilson, bitterly. "I don't pretend to that. They are a fewsurface observations only. Just tell this to Rogers or even Cherry, andwatch 'em curl. "

Wilson and Grim went to bed that night pretty cool towards each other, but in the morning Grim was obstinately bent on being the poet as hewas the next week and the week after that. He wrestled with poetrymorning, noon, and night, and he made himself a horrible nuisance to hisold cronies. Wilson complained bitterly about their study being "simplyfizzing with poetry. " Grim sprang a poem or a sonnet, or a tribute orsome other forsaken variety of poetry, on pretty well everything aboutthe place. He "_did_" the dawn and worked round to the sunset. He had alittle shy at the church and the tombstones, and wrote about the horsepond's "placid wave. " He did four sonnets on the school, looking fromnorth, south, east and west, and let himself go in fine style about theschool captain's batting. He sent this to Phil, and Phil passed thedisquisition on to me; it was very funny indeed. Not a single thing wassafe from his poetry, and he cut what he could of cricket to write"tributes. "

He had a lively time from his own particular knot of friends andenemies, and they jollied him to an extent that, perhaps, reachedhigh-water mark, when Grim found one morning on his table a dozenthoughtful addresses of lunatic asylums, and specimens of the writing ofmad people, culled from a popular magazine. But Grim recked not, andpersevered. He turned out, as became a budding poet, weird screeds fromOvid, Virgil, and Horace--Bohn's cribs were simple to his tangledstuff--and Merishall beamed wreathed smiles upon him, and told him hewas "catching the spirit of the original. " After this patent, distinctleg-up from Merishall, Grim took the bit between his teeth and wentcareering up and down the plains of poesy until the lights were cutoff. 

Wilson bore with his chum for a month, and then finally delivered hisultimatum. 

"If you're still a poet at midsummer, I'm going to cut, and dig withRogers or Cherry. This den isn't big enough for you, me, and the'original spirits' you wing every night. I'm off to the nets. Coming?No? Jove! Grimmy, what nightmares you must take to bed with you everynight. "

But the kindly Fates had the keeping of the chums' friendship in theirsafe keeping, and I haven't observed yet, that Grim and Wilson are lessfriendly than they used to be. This consummation is owing to MissVarley. This young lady, _ætat_ XIV, or thereabouts, was responsible forthe reclamation of Grim. What the whole posse of his acquaintances withtheir blandishments and threats could not effect in the space of amonth, she did within four and twenty hours. I cannot account for this, except on the supposition that little girls with long yellow hair andpretty brown eyes, and a perambulating blush, create mighty earthquakesin the breasts of rowdy fags. Miss Hilda Elsie Varley, being Biffen'sniece, had taken the house under her protection, was more rabidlyBiffenite than even Rogers, adored Acton, reverenced Worcester, andappreciated Chalmers, but despised fags who weren't "training-on" forone of her houses' various elevens. Her sentiments on these matters weremysteriously but accurately known amongst Biffenite juniors. 

Grim finally turned his poetical talents upon this young lady. I am notquite certain why he delayed so long. Perhaps he had waited until hisgift of song had matured so that the offering might be worthy of theshrine, or perhaps because he had exhausted all other exalted subjectsfor his muse, but anyhow, he sent Miss Varley an ode on her birthday. This day was pretty generally known amongst Biffen's fags. 

When he had finished he read it to Wilson, who unbent from hisantagonistic attitude towards poetry when he heard the subject of theverse. 

"After all, Grimmy, it doesn't sound more rotten than Virgil, and it_is_ rather swagger to say that Biffen's is to Hilda what Samnos was toJuno. It's a jolly lot more, though. "

Grim had cheerfully compared Miss Hilda to the queenly Juno, and saidthat if she would give Biffen's her protection, the house would give theother houses "fits" when the housers came round again; then he put insomething about her hair, unconsciously cribbed from Ovid; and somethingabout her walk--this I tracked to Horace; and wound up the whole farragoby saying he was ready to be her door-mat and to shield her from thefuries, _etc_. , which, I think, Grim genuinely evolved out of his owneffervescing breast. The ode was properly posted by the poet himself, and even Wilson felt genuinely interested in the result. As for Grim, hewas so jolly anxious that he could not tackle any more poems, butdivided his time between ices at Hooper's and loafing round theletter-rack for Hilda's answer. 

A day or so later Wilson was busy translating for Merishall--carefullyputting "songs" whenever he spotted "_carmina_"--when he heard Grimflying upstairs, and when the poet had smashed into the room, he held upa letter. 

"It's come, " he gasped. 

Wilson laid down his pen and said, "Wait till you're cool, and then readit out. "

This is the letter _in extenso:_--

 "Biffen's, Wednesday. 

"DEAR GRIM, "I don't think you'll ever be a poet, at least not a great one. Ibelieve I could give you the Latin for most of the lines you havewritten: they are so dreadfully like the translations of myschool-books, and it isn't very flattering when one has to put up withsecond-hand compliments several thousand years old, is it? But I am veryglad that you think my good opinion of any value to Biffen's, for Ishould dearly like to see our house top of the school this year, and howcan it be when one, who ought to be in the House Eleven, gives up allhis time to writing 'poetry' instead of playing cricket? I hope you willnot be very vexed with me for writing this, but I know you would preferme to be "Yours very sincerely, "HILDA E. VARLEY. 

 "P. S. --If I see you admiring the sunsets or the rose-bushes when youought to be at the nets, I know I shall titter . .. Even if Miss Langtonbe with me. "H. E. V. "

Grim struggled through this to the bitter end. Wilson made the very roofecho with his howls of unqualified delight, but Grim's face wasuncommonly like that sunset he admired so much. 

"This is a sickener, " he gasped. 

"Jove! Grim, you've wanted one long enough, " said Wilson, holding hisaching sides. 

"Crumbs! One would think she was old enough to be my mother. "

"That's a way they have, when they're not feeling quite the thing. Nowonder, poor girl. "

"Look here, Wilson, keep this dark. I'm not going to write any morepoetry. I've been thinking that, ever since I sent Hilda the ode. Idon't think it's quite the real article. "

"No, " said Wilson, consolingly; "only original-spirit catching. "

"A lot you know about it, old man, " said Grim, hotly. 

"Granted, Grimmy; but Hilda twigged the fraud, quick enough. "

"Well, I'm going to burn it all, right off. "

They did. I believe I am doing Grim no injustice when I say he looksless a poet, and acts up to his looks, than any junior in St. Amory's. 

Two nights after the receipt of this fateful letter Grim wasindustriously practising Ranjitsinghi's famous glance at a snug, quietnet, when Miss Varley, accompanied by Miss Cornelia Langton, hergoverness, went past the nets. Miss Langton told Hilda afterwards thatshe ought not to speak to hard-working cricketers and distract them intheir game. Hilda, I don't think, minded this little wigging, and Grimnever went without a friendly nod as he turned from cutting Wilson intothe nets, if Miss Hilda Elsie Varley went by. 

CHAPTER XXVII

CONCERNING TODD AND COTTON

Knowing Acton's pride--his overwhelming pride--I never expected to seehim back at St. Amory's. I expected that he would almost have movedheaven and earth and got himself taken off the school books and gone tocomplete his education somewhere else rather than come back to the oldplace where he had had such a signal thrashing. But, of course, he knewjolly well that we four had our tongues tied, and that the knowledge ofhis defeat was, so to speak, strictly private property; and that is why, I am pretty sure, he turned up again. 

He strolled up and down the High, arm-in-arm with Worcester, in highgood humour, on the day we returned; but when I turned the corner andcame upon him _vis-à-vis_ he gave me a long, level, steady look ofhatred, which told me that he had nursed his wrath to keep it warm. Hislook made me thoughtful. Young Jack Bourne, too, came sailing along--abreezy miniature copy of Phil, his brother--but when he caught sight ofhis former patron he blushed like a girl and scuttled into the firstavailable yard. 

[Illustration: HE GAVE ME A LONG, STEADY LOOK OF HATRED. ]

He was not particularly anxious to meet Acton, for Phil, in theholidays, had given Jack a pretty correct inkling of Acton's character, and he began to see--in fact, he did see--that Raffles and the shootingand the billiards, and the hocus pocus of "hedging on Grape Shot, " andthe trip to London, etc. , was only one involved, elaborate plot tostrike at Phil. Jack now fully realized that he had played a veryinnocent fly to Acton's consummate spider, and he now, when there wasn'tany very pressing necessity, determined to give the spider's parlour avery wide berth indeed. Acton saw Jack's little manoeuvre, and smiledgently. He was genuinely fond of Jack, but young Bourne had served hispurpose; and now, thought Acton, philosophically, "Jack looks upon me asa monster of iniquity, and he won't cultivate my acquaintance. " AndPhil? Well, Phil regarded the incident as "closed, " and paid no heed tohis enemy's bitter looks, but divided his attention between his booksand cricket, keeping, perhaps unnecessarily, a bright outlook uponMaster Jack. 

Todd had come back to St. Amory's in a very different frame of mind fromthat in which he had returned after the Perry fiasco. His three weeks'holiday had been no end enjoyable; and now, besides a coin or two in hispocket, he had a clean, crisp note in his purse. As he stepped out ofthe train at the station, the burly figure of Jim Cotton hove in sight, and an eleven-inch palm clapped Gus on the back. 

"Hallo! old man. How goes it?"

"Oh!" said Gus, coughing; "I'm all right, Jim, and your biceps seem intheir usual working order. "

"They are, Gus. I've got a cab out here; we'll go on together. "

"Rather! I must find some one to see to the traps, though. "

"I've commandeered young Grim, " said Jim, "and he'll see to them. "

"Provident beggar! Here you are, Grim. Put mine into Taylor's cart, andhere's a shilling for you. "

Grim, who felt rather injured at being lagged by Cotton so early in theterm, just at the moment, too, when he had caught sight of Wilsonstaggering along with a heavy hat-box, etc. , seized Jim's and Gus'seffects. Todd's modest _douceur_, however, took off the rough edge ofhis displeasure. 

After tea, Cotton and Todd strolled about, and finally came to anchorbehind the nets, where some of the Sixth were already at practice. 

"Phil Bourne's good for a hundred at Lord's, " said Jim, critically, watching Phil's clean, crisp cutting with interest. 

"There's Acton out, too. "

"Raw, " said Jim. "Biffen's beauty has never been taught to hold his bat, that is evident. Footer is more his line, I take it. "

"Are you going to have a try for the eleven, Jim, this year?"

"I'll see how things shape. If Phil Bourne gives me the hint that I havea chance, I'll take it, of course. "

"Will he give Acton the hint, think you?"

"I shouldn't say so, " said Jim, as Acton's stumps waltzed out of theground for the fourth time. "He can't play slows for toffee. "

"Rum affair about the footer cap, " said Gus. 

"Rather so. But I believe Phil Bourne is as straight as a die. I'm notso sure of Acton, though. I fancy there's something to be explainedabout the cap. By the way, Gus, are you going to loaf about this term asusual? Taylor's house side really does want bigger fellows than it'sgot. "

"No!" said Gus. "I'm no good at cricket, nor croquet, nor any othergame; nor do I really care a song about them. All the same, I'm notgoing to loaf. "

"What is the idea?" said Jim, curiously. 

"I'm going to have a shot for the history medal, and I mean to crawl upinto the first three in the Fifth. "

"And you'll do 'em, Toddy, " said Jim, admiringly. "You're not quite suchan ass as you once were. "

"Well, I'll work evenly and regularly, and, perhaps, pull off one orother of them. "

"I go, you know, at midsummer. Then I'm to cram somewhere for the Army. Taylor's been advising a treble dose of mathematics, and I think I'lloblige him this time. "

"Taylor's not half a bad fellow, " said Gus. 

"Oh, you're a monomaniac on that subject, Gus! Once you felt ill if youmet Taylor or Corker on your pavement. "

Jim Cotton was right. Gus was now a vastly different fellow from theshiftless, lazy, elusive Gus of old; he worked evenly and steadilyonward, and, in consequence, his name danced delightfully near the topof the weekly form-lists of the Fifth Form. He, however, did not sapeverlastingly, but on half holidays lounged luxuriantly on the schoolbenches, watching the cricket going on in the bright sunshine, or hewould take his rod and have an afternoon among the perch in theLodestone, that apology for a stream. Fishing was Gus's ideal ofathleticism; the exercise was gentle, and you sometimes had half a dozenperch for your trouble. Gus argued there was nothing to show for aneight hours' fag at cricket in a broiling sun. 

CHAPTER XXVIII

ACTON'S LAST MOVE

Phil's unpopularity had somewhat abated, for his victory in the racketshad given him a good leg up in the estimation of his fellows; but stillthere was the uneasy feeling that in the matter of the "footer" cap hisconduct was shady, or at least dubious. 

I was awfully sorry to see this, for I myself was leaving at midsummer, and in my own mind I had always looked upon Phil to take up thecaptaincy. He would have made, in my opinion, the _beau ideal_ of acaptain, for he was a gentleman, a scholar, and an athlete. But theother monitors, or at least many of them, did not look upon Phil withenthusiasm, and his election for the captaincy did not now seem the surething it had done a few months before. 

At St. Amory's the monitors elect a captain, and Corker confirms theappointment if he thinks their choice suitable, but he insists that hemust be well up in the Sixth, and not a mere athlete. 

Now, Phil's ambition was to be Captain of St. Amory's, as his father hadbeen before him, and when the home authorities finally decided that Iwas to go to Cambridge in the Michaelmas term; Phil hoped and desiredto step into my shoes. He had one great lever to move the fellows in hisfavour, he was much the best cricketer in the school and deservedlyCaptain of the Eleven, and, besides that, was one of the best all-roundfellows in Sixth Form work. But Phil did not in the least hint that thecaptaincy was his soul's desire; he determined to merit it, and thenleave the matter in the hands of the school. So, from the very beginningof the term, he read hard and played hard, and he left his mark on theclass lists and the scoring-board in very unmistakable fashion. 

And now Acton came like an evil genius on the scene. In a word, he haddetermined that if he could in any way baulk poor Phil's ambition, hewould. If by his means he could put Phil out of the running for thecaptaincy it should be done. If he could succeed, this success wouldmake up and to spare for his two former defeats. Therefore, warily andcautiously, he set to work. 

Acton himself was not much of a cricketer; the game was not, as it were, second nature to him, as it was to Phil, but he was a very smartfield--cover was his position--and he could slog heavily, and often withsuccess. He threw himself heartily into the game, and crept rapidly upthe ladder of improvement, until Biffen's whispered that their shininglight stood a good chance of getting into the Eleven. "That is, " saidBiffen's crowd, "if Bourne will run straight and give a good man hisflannels. But after the 'footer' fraud, what can one expect?" I heardof this, and straightway told Phil. 

"Oh, they need not fear. If Acton deserves his flannels, he will getthem. I've nothing whatever against his cricket. "

Acton learned this, and instantly his new-found zeal for cricketslackened considerably. 

"Oh!" said he to himself, "I can't blister you there, Bourne, eh? Ican't pose as the deserving cricketer kept out of the Eleven by ajealous cad of a captain, eh? So I'll try another tack to keep you inevil odour, Mr. Bourne. "

Acton did not turn up at the nets that night, and when Worcester noticedthis, Acton calmly sailed on his new tack. 

"What's the good of sweating away at the nets, Dick? I'll not get myflannels in any case. "

"Oh yes, you will. Bourne has said he's got nothing against yourcricket. "

"And you believe that, Dick?" said Acton, with a whistle of contemptuousincredulity. 

"I do, " said Dick. "But you are not exactly quite the flier at cricketthat you are at 'footer, ' so you can't afford to slack up now. "

"I've got private knowledge, " said Acton, with a filthy lie, "that Iwon't get 'em in any case, so I shall not try. "

Dick was considerably upset by this, and Acton's sudden stoppage ofpractice after an intense beginning made his lie seem a good imitationof truth, and gave Worcester food for bitter thoughts against Phil. Acton worked "the-no-good-to-try" dodge carefully and artistically; henever actually said his lie openly, or Phil would have nailed it to thecounter, but, like a second Iago, he dropped little barbed insinuationshere, little double-edged sayings there, until Biffenites to a manbelieved there would be a repetition of the "footer" cap over again, andthe school generally drifted back to aloofness as far as Phil wasconcerned. 

Acton laid himself out to be excessively friendly with the monitors, andjust as he entered into their good graces, Phil drifted out of them--infact, to be friendly with Acton was the same thing as being cool towardsBourne. Phil made splendid scores Saturday after Saturday, but theenthusiasm which his fine play should have called out was wanting. 

"Why don't you cheer your captain, Tom?" I overheard a father say to hisyoung hopeful. 

"No fear!" said the frenzied Biffenite. "Bourne is a beast!"

In fact, the only one who seemed to derive any pleasure from Bourne'sprowess in the field was Acton himself. He used to sit near theflag-staff, and when Phil made his splendid late cut, whose applause wasso generous as his? whose joy so great? Acton's manoeuvres were on thehighest artistic levels, I can assure you, and in the eyes of thefellows generally, his was a case of persecuted forgiving virtue. Acton, too, kept in old Corker's good books, and his achievements in the way ofclassics made the old master beam upon him with his keen blue eye. 

I saw with dismay how persistently unpopular Phil remained, and I heardthe charms of Acton sung daily by monitor after monitor, until I sawthat Acton had captured the whole body bar Phil's own staunch friends, Baines, Roberts, and Vercoe. And then it dawned upon me that Acton wasmaking a bid for the captaincy himself, and when I had convinced myselfthat this was his object, I felt angrier than I can remember. Ithereupon wrote to Aspinall, gave him a full, true, and particularaccount of Acton's campaign against Phil, and asked him to releaseme--and Phil--from our promise of secrecy regarding the football-matchaccident. His reply comforted me, and I knew that, come what might, Ihad a thunderbolt in my pocket in Aspinall's letter, which could knockActon off the Captain's chair if he tried for that blissful seat. 

I told him so, to save trouble later on, and he heard me out with a farfrom pretty sneer, which, however, did not quite conceal his chagrin. But though I made sure of his being out of the hunt, I could not makesure of Phil being elected, and in a short time Mivart was mentionedcasually as the likeliest fellow to take my place. I have nothingwhatever to say against Mivart; he was a good fellow, but he was notquite up to Phil's level. 

Phil knew of these subterranean workings of his enemy, but he was tooproud a fellow to try and make any headway against the mining. 

"If they elect Mivart they will elect a good man, that is all, thoughI'd give a lot, old man, to take your place. "

Thus things went on until Lord's came and ended in the usual draw. Phil's selection of the Eleven was in every way satisfactory, and hisscore for first wicket had made St. Amory's safe from defeat, but, despite all, his unpopularity was pronounced. 

The election was going to take place in a week, and Mivart, thanks toActon's careful "nursing, " was evidently going to romp home in theelection with something like a sixteen to four majority. Vercoedetermined to propose Phil, and Baines was only too delighted to secondit; but Phil's cronies had no more hope of his success than Phil hadhimself. 

CHAPTER XXIX

WHY BIFFEN'S LOST

After the Lord's match there were two burning subjects of conversation:Who should be captain in my place? and which house should be the cockhouse at cricket? Every house captain looked with dread upon the houseof Corker, great alike at cricket and footer, and it was agreed thatvery probably Phil Bourne would once more lead his men on to victory. Biffen's house did not stand much chance, for there was no superlativeActon at cricket; but it was, indeed, mainly through his efforts thatBiffen's was as good as it was. You may remember that Acton had takenunder his patronage those dark-skinned dervishes, Singh Ram and RunjitMehtah. They were unquestionably the best pair of fellows in the schoolin strictly gymnastic work; and when summer came they showed that theywould, sooner or later, do something startling with the bat. TheBiffenite captain, Dick Worcester, did not altogether relish theirproficiency. "It's just my luck to have my eleven filled up withniggers, " he observed to Acton in half-humourous disgust; but Biffenitespinned their faith on Worcester, the dervishes, and Acton, and, to thehuge delight of Grim, Rogers, Wilson, Thurston, and other enthusiasticjunior Biffenites, the resurrected house survived the first two rounds. 

The third round they were to meet Taylor's lot, a good house, and thehopes of Grim and Co. Were tinged with considerable doubt. 

On the particular afternoon when this important match was to be played, Todd had strolled off to the Lodestone stream, laden with all thenecessary tackle for the slaying of a few innocent perch. The year'sfinal lists of the forms were due also in the evening on the variousnotice-boards. 

Gus had redeemed his promise made at the beginning of the term, and hadworked hard for a prominent position on the list, and his attempt tocapture the history medal had been, he thought, fairly satisfactory. Hewould soon know his fate, however, in both directions. Meanwhile, toallay his anxiety as to the results, he had unpatriotically given thecricket-fields a wide berth, and thus deprived Taylor's of the privilegeof his cheer in the house match. He and Cotton had an invitation to dinewith Taylor that evening, so, after telling Jim his programme for theafternoon, he had trudged down the lane which Jack Bourne knew so well. 

The afternoon was hot: the one-o'clock sun made Gus think that perhapsthere was more cruelty than usual in luring the fishes out of the coolwaters of the Lodestone; but, nevertheless, he philosophically baitedhis hook, and cast forth. The sport was not exciting, and by-and-by Gusfound himself wondering, not why the fish were so shy, but whence camethe faint, delicate perfume of cigars, which undoubtedly reached hisnostrils? The Lodestone Farm was a quarter of a mile away, and obviouslythe scent could not travel thus far, and since Gus was alone on thebanks of the stream, running sluggishly towards the moat, the constantwhiffs of cigars reaching him seemed somewhat mysterious. Gus lookedagain carefully, but could see no one, and yet there was undoubtedlysome one smoking very near him. 

"Well, it _is_ odd, " said Gus, for the nth time sniffing the "taintedbreeze. " Curiosity piqued the fisher to trace the mystery. Hereconnoitred carefully, and presently fancied he could hear the faintmurmur of voices. This proceeded from the boat-house, wherein Hillmoored the moat punt. "I'll just make a reconnaissance in force, " saidGus, putting down his rod. Arrived at the punt-house, Gus peeped inthrough the slightly open door, and discovered no less importantpersonages than Runjit Mehtah and "Burnt Lamb. " The two dervishes werelolling luxuriantly on the punt cushions, each smoking a fine fat cigar, and the combined efforts of the two gave quite an Oriental air ofmagnificence to the ramshackle boat-house. 

"Hallo!" said Gus. "What the deuce are you doing?"

The cigars nearly fell from the mouth of each of the smokers as Gusappeared on the scene, but when the smokers made out Todd's facethrough the haze, Mehtah said, with much relief--

"Oh, talking. "

"That isn't quite a true bill, " said Gus. "Your Flora Fina de Cabbagioskeep the fish from biting. "

"Have one, " said Burnt Lamb, hospitably offering Todd a cigar. 

"No thanks. Is this punt-house your usual lounge?"

"Sometimes, " said Mehtah. "We can't do without our smoke, and we can'tdo it, you know, at the school. "

"No, that you jolly well can't, my dusky Othello. But aren't you twobooked for the Houser's this afternoon? I thought you were the backboneof Biffen's. "

"The match is not for an hour yet, " said Lamb. 

"Oh yes, " said Mehtah, "we're going to sit on your house this afternoon, Todd. "

At this most interesting point of the conversation the door of thepunt-house was violently slammed to, and Gus was propelled forward cleaninto the punt and received hurriedly into the unexpectant arms of BurntLamb. Before any of the three could understand what had happened therewas a hurried fumbling with the staple and pin of the punt-house doorfrom the outside, and then an equally hurried retreat of footsteps. 

"Well, I'm hanged!" said Gus, after he had picked himself up and triedthe door. "We're locked in. "

Young Rogers and Wilson, who had done this fell deed, hoped there wasno doubt about the locking. This couple of ornaments had immediatelyafter dinner snatched their caps and ran on past the Lodestone Farm fora particular purpose. They had found a yellowhammer's nest a day or sobefore, containing one solitary egg, and their hurried run was for thepurpose of seeing if there was any increase, and if so--well, the usualresult. They were anxious to get back to the cricket-field in time toshout and generally give their house a leg-up when the Houser withTaylor's commenced, and their friend Grim had strict orders to bag themeach seats, front row, in the pavilion. They had been busy blowing eggsfor pretty well twenty minutes, and, as they were lazily returningschoolwards, they caught sight of Gus watching his float. 

"There's Gus Todd trying to hook tiddlers, " said Rogers. 

"Shy a stone, " suggested Wilson, "and wake 'em up. "

"Rot! There's no cover. "

"It's only Todd, " said Wilson. "What's the odds?"

"Yes, but not quite the old ass. Better get home. "

Keeping well out of sight, the two cronies had watched with curiosityTodd's manoeuvres as he tried to run the cigar-smokers to earth. WhenGus entered the punt-house, a bright idea struck Wilson. 

"Say, Rogers, remember Toddy locking us in the laboratory last term? Twohundred Virgil. "

"Ah!" said Rogers, catching the meaning of Wilson's remark instanter;"if we only could cork him up there for the afternoon! That would payhim out for Merishall's call-over lines. "

"We'll chance it, " said Wilson. "If we can't do it, well, we didn't knowGussy was in--eh?"

"Rather! That is the exact fable we'll serve out to Todd, if necessary. "

Breaking cover, the young Biffenites had secured the door of thepunt-house without any difficulty, and then had run for dear life. 

"Golly!" said Rogers, pulling up when well out of sight of theboat-house; "we did that rather neat, eh? Hanged if Toddy wasn't smokinglike a chimney. Did you twig his weed?"

"Regular stench, " said Wilson. "Toddy will have to swim out through thefront way, or howl for help. The punt is sure to be locked. "

"He'll have to take a header off the punt into the moat, and that isn'tcrystal, exactly. "

"Six yards of mud is about the figure, " said Wilson, almosthysterically. 

"I say, old man, if we'd only been able to bottle up Jim Cotton alongwith his chum! What price Biffen's for the Houser, then?"

"_If_" said Wilson, wistfully. "Wouldn't the dervishes walk intoTaylor's bowling, if Bully wasn't there to sling them in?"

"Never mind, " said Rogers, hardly daring to contemplate the ravishingprospect of Taylor's house without Cotton, "the dervishes are sure tocome out strong this afternoon. Let 'em once get their eye in, andeither of 'em is good enough for a hundred. "

The two young Biffenites found the faithful Grim holding the fort in thefront bench of the pavilion against the ardent assaults of someTaylorian juniors, who could not see what Grim wanted with three seats. The fellows of the two houses were rapidly lining up for the match, andDick Worcester had sent to Biffen's making affectionate inquiries forthe dervishes. By-and-by, word was brought to Worcester that the twowere not to be found in the neighbourhood; and a further hurried searchby anxious Biffenites, headed by Rogers and Wilson, had a like result. 

"Isn't it awful, Grimmy?" said Rogers. "Where can the idiots be?"

Worcester and Acton had a consultation. "If they don't turn up in timewe'll have to make a start without 'em. "

"If we have to go in we may give 'em up. We can't bat substitutes. "

"No fear!" said Dick. "Cotton isn't likely to hear of that, and, besides, it's just like the rotten thing you might expect from thoseniggers. "

Acton smiled. "All right, old chap. Put in Grim and Rogers in theirplace. The little beggars will be as keen as mustard. "

So Grim and Rogers had the honour of representing their house, since thedervishes did not turn up. Rogers, when he shut the door on Todd, didnot guess that he had shut up Biffen's crack bats too. That Biffen'slost the match, and made no sort of show against Cotton's bowling, mayalso, perhaps, be attributed to the inadvertent imprisonment of Mehtahand "Lamb. "

The imprisoned trio had not had a very lively time that afternoon in thepunt-house. The door remained obstinately shut, and neither Todd nor histwo companions relished a swim in the moat as the price of freedom. Thedervishes took matters very calmly; the desire to play for Biffen's wasnot strong enough to counterbalance the natural shrinking from a headerinto the duckweed and a run home in wet clothes. Singh Ram had a finaltry at the door, and then murmured--so Gus said--"Kismet, " and relit hishalf-smoked cigar. Todd, indeed, shouted lustily; but when he realizedthat by contributing to the escape of the dervishes he might contributeto the downfall of his own house, he stopped himself in the middle of anunearthly howl. For three hours Gus remained a half-voluntary prisoner;but, when he judged it safe, he created such a pandemonium that youngHill hurried out of the farm stable, thinking there must be some weirdtragedy taking place at the punt-house. He had hurried across and letthe trio out. 

The dervishes got a mixed reception from Biffen's crowd. Worcester wasalmost eloquent in his language, and Acton was calmly indifferent. 

"But I tell you, Worcester, some beast locked us in the punt-house. "

"I wish they'd kept you there, " said Dick, unmollified. 

Whilst Worcester was swallowing his tea, Rogers and Wilson cravedaudience. Their faces were as long as fiddles. 

"Oh, Worcester!" began Rogers, tremulously, "we've come to tell you thatit was we who lost Biffen's the houser. "

"Why, Wilson didn't play, and you caught Cotton, " said Dick, astonished. 

"But we locked the dervishes in the punt-house--we thought there wasonly Todd inside. "

"Oh, you did, you little beggars, did you?" said Worcester, consideringthe doleful and grief-stricken Biffenites. "Well, here's a shilling foreach of you if you keep it dark. I'm deucedly glad the dervishes didn'tplay. I'd rather lose a dozen housers than feel the niggers wereindispensable. Now, cut; and next time you bottle 'em up, see they don'tget out. "

"Golly!" said Rogers, as the two left Worcester to his tea. "I supposethe sun's affected Worcester's brain. "

Whilst the dervishes were explaining matters to Worcester the otherprisoner was elbowing his way into the crowd around the Fifth Formnotice-board, whereon were pinned the final lists. Jim Cotton wasplanted squarely before the board, eyeing the contents with hugedelight, and when he caught sight of the struggling Gus he haled himvigorously forward. 

"Here you are, Gus! By Jove, Toddy, you've done it this time, you oldPerry fizzler!"

Gus eyed the list with delighted eyes. 

This is what he saw: "First--Todd, A. V. R. --history medal, and chemistryprize. "

Need I say anything more of either Todd or Cotton? Todd entered theSixth when the summer holidays were over, and Phil Bourne writes meoften and tells me what a big gun Todd is in the schools. Jim Cotton wasentered upon the roll-call of some celebrated "crammer" near the CrystalPalace. If crammers' hearts _could_ be broken, Jim, I should say, willaccomplish the feat. But if ever James Cotton _does_ get into the Armyhe will never disgrace his regiment. 

CHAPTER XXX

THE END OF THE FEUD

Thoroughly satisfied with himself and all the world, Acton had on thelast Saturday of the term--the election for the captaincy was to be heldthat night--left the cricket field to the enthusiasts, and turned hisfeet towards the old Lodestone Farm, the road he knew so well. He wantedto be alone with his happy thoughts. He was more than satisfied withhimself, and, as he walked along, he mowed down with his ash-plantthistles and nettles in sheer joyfulness of heart. His long feud withBourne would come to a joyful end that night. Mivart's election wascertain, and Mivart's election would pay for all--for the loss of the"footer" cap, and for that terrible half-hour after Bourne had knockedhim out, when he felt himself almost going mad from hatred, rage, disgust, and defeat. He had engineered his schemes beautifully; hisrevenge would be as perfect. The loss of the captaincy would be abitter, bitter pill for Bourne to swallow. 

Whilst he strode on, engrossed with these pleasant thoughts, he fanciedhe heard shouts and cries somewhere in the distance behind him. Heturned round, and down the long stretch of white road he saw a cloud ofdust rolling with terrific speed towards him. For one moment he wonderedwhatever was the matter, but out of the dust he could see the flashingof carriage-wheels, the glitter of harness, and the shining coats of acouple of horses. The carriage came rocking towards him at a terriblerate, sometimes the wheels on one side off the road altogether; thehorses had their heads up, and Acton could hear their terrified snortingas they thundered towards him. 

"A runaway!" said Acton, backing into the hedge. "They'll come a cropperat the little bridge. What a smash there'll be!" As the runaway horses, galloping like the furies, came nearer, Acton saw something which madehis blood run cold. "Jove!" he cried, darting out from the hedge, "there's a lady in the carriage!" Acton was almost frozen with thehorror of the thing. "She'll be smashed to pieces at the bridge. "

Acton glanced to the little bridge half a mile down the long white road, where the road narrowed to meet the low stone walls, and he knew as wellas though he saw it that the carriage would catch the bridge and beshivered to match-wood. The horses must be stopped before they reachedit, or the lady would be killed. Now Acton, with all his faults, was nocoward. Without thinking of the terrible risk he ran, he sprang out intothe middle of the road and waved his arms frantically at the horsesmoving like a thunderbolt towards him. But they were too maddened withterror to heed this waving apparition in their path, and Acton, in thevery nick of time, just jumped aside and avoided the carriage-pole, pointed like a living lance at his breast. 

[Illustration: AS THE HORSES WHIRLED PAST, HE CLUTCHED MADLY AT THELOOSE REINS. ]

As the horses whirled past, he clutched madly at the loose reins, see-sawing in the air. He held them, and the leather slid through hisfrenzied grasp, cutting his palms to the bone. When he reached the loophe was jerked off his feet with a terrible shock, and was whirled alongthe dusty road, the carriage-wheels grinding, crunching, and skiddingwithin a foot of his head. Luckily the reins held, and when, after beingdragged a hundred yards or so, and half choked by the thick dust, hemanaged to scramble to his feet, he pulled with frenzied, convulsivestrength on the off-side rein. The horses swerved to the fearful saw ontheir jaws, and pulled nearly into the left-hand hedge. Acton'sdesperate idea was to overturn the carriage into the hedge before thehorses could reach the bridge, for he felt he could no more pull them upthan he dare let them go. There was just a chance for the lady if shewere overturned into the bank or hedge, but none whatever if she werethrown at the bridge. In a minute or so the carriage lurched horriblysideways: there was a grinding crash, and the carriage overturned bodilyinto the bank. The lady was shot out, and the next minute the horses'hoofs were making tooth-picks of the wrecked carriage. 

Acton darted up the bank and found the lady dazed and bruised, but wasoverjoyed to see she wasn't dead. "Are you much hurt?"

"No, I don't think so, " she said, with a brave smile; "but I expectedto be killed any moment. You are a brave man, sir, to risk your life fora stranger. "

Acton said quietly, "Not at all; but I think I was very lucky to turnthem in time. "

In a minute or two there was a small crowd. Half a dozen stray cyclistshad wheeled up, and with their help Acton got out the horses, dreadfullycut about the legs and shivering with terror, from the wreckage. Downthe dusty road were men running for dear life, and ahead of all Actoncaught sight of a well-known athletic figure running like a deer, and inanother moment Phil Bourne was asking the lady in panting bursts if shewere not really hurt. 

"No, Phil; not in the least. I owe my life to this gentleman, who pulledthe horses into the bank before they could reach the bridge. "

Phil wheeled round, his face beaming with gratitude, but when he sawActon, pale to the lips, the words of thankfulness froze on his lips. For one instant he stared at his old enemy with wonder and amazement, then, with a gesture of utter gratitude, he said--

"Acton, I can never tell you how much I owe you for saving my mother'slife, but will you shake hands?"

Acton looked at Bourne, whose face beamed with admiration and gratitude, and then he put out his hand. In that moment, so honourable to themboth, the feud was stamped out for ever. Fresh as he was from asglorious a deed as any Amorian had ever done, he realized that he hadbeen a blackguard towards Bourne the moment Phil begged him to shakehands. 

Phil murmured almost inarticulate words of gratitude; but Acton, morethan a trifle disturbed at his own thoughts, interrupted hastily--

"Say no more about it, please, Bourne. You'd have done as much for anyone. "

"Your hands are bleeding, " said Phil, with immense concern. 

"Nothing at all. I think the reins cut them. "

Mrs. Bourne _would_ bind them. "Of course!" said she. "How blind of menot to see that this gentleman is one of your schoolfellows, Phil. "

"Mother, " said Phil, "this is John Acton. "

"I've heard Phil talk about your wonderful win at Aldershot. I supposeyou're great friends?"

The "great friends" looked on the ground rather guiltily, but Phil cutin with--

"I say, Acton, you must come and have tea with mother and me in my den. Can you?"

Acton said quietly, "All right, Bourne. Thanks, awfully. " Then he addedunder his breath to Phil, "If I can come as a friend?"

"On that condition, " said Phil, "I'd like you to come. "

The trio walked back along the road--a happy trio they were, too--and amelancholy procession of injured horses and an angry coachman closedtheir rear. The tea in Bourne's room was very successful, and I shouldfancy that Hinton did more hard thinking and hard staring when he sawActon amicably seated with his feet under Bourne's table than he everdid before. The minute he had permission, he flew down the corridor, andexploded bombshell after bombshell among wondering Amorians. 

"Acton and Bourne teaing together like two birds on a bough!" he gasped. 

"That would be a funny sight, " said Cherry. "Birds don't take tea. "

"Write an epilogue, Fruity. Teaing together as friendly as Grim and Imight. "

"Only that, " said W. E. Grim, with a genial wink, "my opinion is, thatHinton's been on the drink, and seen double. "

Incredulity and wonder were the dominant notes among Amorians for thenext two hours. 

Acton and Phil walked to the station with Mrs. Bourne, and when she hadgone to town, and the pair were returning schoolwards, Acton saidthoughtfully--

"Look here, Bourne. Don't know quite what it was that made me feel socheap when you rushed to thank me for helping your mater. I felt verysmall. "

"If that's so, you'll feel cheaper and smaller when pater sees you. I'dhave those hands cured first. "

"Bourne, " said Acton, very seriously, "I've been an arrant cad sinceI've come to St. Amory's, and if those horses hadn't bolted with yourmater I should never have seen in you anything but a strait-laced prig, as I've all along thought you. I have, really. But that's all changednow, and I'm going to dry up. I suppose you know you aren't popularamong the fellows generally?"

"Rather!" said Phil, gloomily. 

"And you know that you owe all this to me?"

"Only too well, Acton. "

"Well, I'm going to make what amends I can. Have you any objection to myproposing you as captain to-night?"

"Acton, you are a brick, " said Phil, "but you're too late now. I don'tstand a ghost of a chance against Mivart. "

"And I'll get Mivart to second you. I can put all the fellows straightconcerning you, and, by Jove, it's the least I can do! I'll make a cleanbreast of it to them all to-night before the election comes on. "

"Oh no, you won't! I'd rather lose the captaincy than that. Besides, Aspinall asked me not to do anything bar refuse you your cap. "

"I've been an insufferable cad, " said Acton, with a hot blush, "but youshall be captain in any case. "

Acton saw Mivart, and whether he told him the whole history of hisquarrel with Bourne or not, I cannot say; anyhow, Acton prevailed on himto second Phil. Mivart was a very good fellow, as I said before, and hethoroughly believed that Bourne would make a better captain than hehimself would, so he said he would be delighted to back Phil up to anyextent, since Phil was not now the jealous bounder he had so long beenconsidered. 

I myself, as the retiring captain, took the chair in the Sixth Formroom to see the election of my successor through with all due solemnity. Acton got up, and though he was very nervous, he said out straight whathe had resolved to say. 

"I propose Phil Bourne for captain in place of Carr, and I'll tell youwhy. I consider him the most suitable fellow to take our old captain'splace. Many of you may be--will be--surprised to hear me propose Bourne, for between us two, as you all know, there has been no love lost. But inall the dreary business I have been the utter cad and Bourne the otherthing. He brought upon himself any amount of bad feeling because hewould not give me my 'footer' cap. I did not deserve it"--some one heresaid "rot!" emphatically--"not because I wasn't good enough a player, but for another reason, which, much as I should shy at telling you, Iwould tell, only Bourne begged me not to. It is his and Carr's andanother fellow's secret as much as mine, so I feel I had better not sayit. But, believe me, in the business I was an utter cad, and instead ofbringing all that row about my cap upon Bourne's head, I ought to haveburned my boots, and never kicked a football again. There's anothermatter, this time strictly between Bourne and self, in which I did himas big an injury as one fellow can do another. He gave me a soundthrashing for it on the morning that you fellows went away last term, and Carr and Vercoe here assisted us in our little mill. No one everdeserved a thrashing as I deserved that one, and now I'm glad I got it. It was Bourne's only score against me. Fact is, " said Acton, with a grimsmile, "I'd rather meet another Jarvis than Bourne. "

The fellows opened their eyes, and wondered what next. 

"This term I've worked the whole school, and especially you monitors, against Bourne, to make his chance of getting the captaincy a very rockyone. And I think I pretty well succeeded. You all liked Bourne before Iappeared on the scene, with good reason, and I do hope you will all givehim your votes, for, and I say it absolutely sure of its truth, the bestfellow in St. Amory's is Bourne. That is all I can say. "

Mivart got up before the fellows had time to recover from theirastonishment, and said--

"I have great pleasure in seconding Acton's proposal. I, too, considerBourne out and out the best fellow to take Carr's place. Whilst Phil wasunder a cloud I was willing to stand for captain, but since we all knownow that he stands where he did, the only proper thing to do is to givehim the unanimous vote, for I do not mean to stand at all. "

The fellows blankly voted for Bourne, and, as Grim would be sure to say, "the proposition was carried _nem. Con_. "

That evening Corker confirmed Phil's appointment, and I spent as happyan evening as I can remember. Acton said he should not come back to St. Amory's again, as his record was too black to be used as a convenientreference, but Phil and I and all the fellows told him we should beonly too glad to let bygones be bygones, and that he had really done thesquare thing at the last. 

He did come back, and Phil's letters to me tell me that his old enemy isone of the most popular--deservedly--in the school, and his best friend. They are inseparable, play back together at "footer, " and are variouslycalled Gemini, Damon and Pythias, David and Jonathan, as the case maybe. 

Biffen's are still cock-house at "footer;" Acton is going in again forthe "heavy"--this time without the Coon's help--and those "niggers, "Singh Ram and Runjit Mehtah, to Worcester's intense disgust, are therepresentatives of St. Amory's in gymnastics; and, altogether, Biffen'sHouse is, thanks to Acton's help, perhaps the most distinguished in theschool. 

ACTON'S CHRISTMAS

I

SNOWED UP

A jollier going away for the Christmas holidays had not taken place foran age. 

An old Amorian had done "something good" in India, which had obtained anextra week's holiday for his old school, and the Amorians, a day or sobefore, had beaten the Carthusians, whose forwards had been led to theslaughter by an International whose very initials spell unapproachablefootball. 

The station of St. Amory's was crowded with the fellows, all sportingrugs of vivid patterns on their arms, and new and of-the-latest-shape"bowlers" on their heads, and new and fancy trouserings on theiremancipated legs. No more Amorian cap--peak pointing well down theneck--no more trouserings of sober grey-and-black, no more beakishrestraint for five weeks! Couples strolled up and down arm-in-arm; knotsof the Sixth and Fifth discussed matters of high state interest, and theworthies of the lower forms made the lives of the perspiring porters amisery and a burden to them. Prominent Amorians were cheered, and whenthose old enemies, John Acton and Phil Bourne, tumbled out of their cabas the greatest of chums, the fags quavered out their shrill rejoicings, honouring the famous school backs who had stemmed the sweeping rush ofthe Carthusians a day or so before. 

There was a rumour that Acton had been asked to play for theCorinthians, and the other athletes on the platform pressed round thepair for information. 

Our old friends, Wilson and Jack Bourne, had shut up by stratagem B. A. M. Cherry in the lamp-room, and the piteous pleadings of that youngBiffenite were listened to with ecstacy by a crowd of a dozen, whohailed the promises and threats of the prisoner with shouts of mockinglaughter. 

W. E. Grim, Esq. , explained to a few of his particular chums, Rogersamong them, the wonderful shooting he was going to have "up at Acton'splace" in Yorkshire, and they listened with visible envy. 

"Look here, Grimmy, if you tell us next term that you bagged twowoodcock with one barrel, we'll boot you all round Biffen's yard--sothere. "

Acton had, as a matter of fact, invited Dick Worcester, Gus Todd, JackSenior, of Merishall's house, and Grim, to spend Christmas with him athis mother's place, and they had all accepted with alacrity. 

The northern express rolled into the station, and Grim was hurriedlyinformed by Rogers that he was to bag the end carriage for Acton underpain of death. Grim tore down the platform, and, encouraged by thecheerful Rogers, performed prodigies of valour, told crams to groups ofdisgusted Amorians, who went sighing to search elsewhere for room, engaged in single combat with one of Sharpe's juniors, and generallyheld the fort. And then, when Acton came running down, and wanted toknow what the deuce he was keeping him waiting for, Grim realized thatRogers had "done" him to a turn. He shouted weird threats as he washurried away, to the bubbling Rogers, and that young gentleman liftedhis hat in ironical acknowledgment. There was the warning shriek fromthe engine, and then the train crawled out, taking toll of all theAmorians going north, and leaving the others to shout after themendearing epithets and clinching witticisms. 

For two days before the Amorians were on the wing home there had beenheavy falls of snow, culminating, on the going-away day, in a heavysnow-storm. All the way from St. Amory's the express had been held up bydoubtful signals, and in the deeper cuttings the snow had piled up inhuge drifts. The express had toiled on its northern journey, steadilylosing time at every point. At Preston Acton had telegraphed home thatprobably they would arrive quite three hours late. Thus it was that, tired but jolly, the party of five Amorians got out of the main lineexpress at Lowbay, and, each laden with rugs and magazines, stumbledlight-heartedly across the snow-sodden platform into the local train, which had waited for the express nearly three hours. They foundthemselves sixteen miles from home, and with no prospect of reaching itbefore midnight. 

"Raven Crag, " the name of Acton's home, was situated just within theborders of Yorkshire. A single line of rails takes you from LowbayJunction up the Westmoreland hills to the top of the heaviest gradientin the kingdom, and then hurtles you down into the little waysidestation of Lansdale, the station for "Raven Crag. "

The sturdy tank engine coupled to the short local train was steamingsteadily and noisily, and when the express had rolled heavily out forCarlisle, the station-master hastily beat up intending passengers forthe branch line. Besides Acton's party, there were only two passengers, a lady and a little girl. 

"I'll give the old tank a good half-hour to crawl the eight miles to thetop of the fells, " said Acton, "and then we'll rattle into Lansdale inten minutes. But she _will_ cough as she crawls up. Look here, Dick, I'll have a whole rug, please. This carriage is as cold as arefrigerator. "

The fellows made themselves as comfortable as an unlimited supply ofrugs and a couple of foot-warmers would admit of. Dick Worcester, without a blush, propped his head against a window and said: "Grim, there's a lingering death for you if you fail to wake me five minutesfrom Lansdale. " The others exchanged magazines and yawned hopefully, whilst Acton took out his Kipling, and straightway forgot snow, home, and friends. 

The station master, and the driver, and the guard held an animatedconversation round the engine. "Strikes me, Bill, the old engine'llnever get t' top of t' bank to-night!" said the guard. "The snow must beterrible thick in Hudson's cutting. "

"She'll do it, " said the driver, --"wi' luck. "

"Got another engine with steam up, " inquired the guard, "to give us alift behind?"

"No, they're all shut down, and we couldn't wait now. You'll have to runher through yourselves, " said the station-master. "Nearly four hourslate already! Off with you!"

"I'm doubting we can't do it, " said the guard, thoughtfully. "To-night isthe worst night I can remember for years. The expresses could justmanage it. "

"Oh, well, " said the driver, "we're down to run it, and we're going totry. "

"There'll be drifts twenty feet deep in the cutting, and it'll be likerunning into a house, " said the guard, slowly, "but I suppose we've gotto try, anyhow. "

He walked away thoughtfully to his van, and a moment later there was ashrill whistle, and the Lansdale local ran out into the night. 

And it _was_ a night! There was no moon, and not the least glimmer of astar overhead; an utter darkness shrouded the world. The wind was highand steady, and its mournful howling through the rocky cuttings of therailway sounded unspeakably melancholy. Driven by the gale, thesnowflakes had in five minutes covered the windward side of the trainwith a winding-sheet, inches deep, and when Gus Todd, from curiosity, opened the window to peer out into the night, the flakes, heavy, large, and soft, whirled into the carriage a very cataract of snow. 

"Don't, Gus, please, " pleaded Acton, looking up from his book inastonishment at the snow glittering in the lamp-light; "I prefer thatoutside, thanks. "

"It's an awful storm, Acton, " said Gus, hastily drawing up the window. "Allah! how it snows!"

"Is this up to the usual sample here?" asked Senior, nestling nearer thedozing Dick. 

"Well, " said Acton, listening a moment to the stroke of the engine, andthe roar of the wind, "I think we may say it is. "

"Blizzard seems nearer the word, old man. The flakes come at you likesnowballs. "

"Shan't be sorry when we tread your ancestral halls. This weather istoo-too for comfort. And don't we crawl!"

"We're rising, " said Acton, "and it is uphill work. Hear the old tankgroaning?"

In fact, the train, labouring up the heavy gradient, did barely morethan crawl through the snow and wind, and the slow beat of the enginetold how hard it was even to do that. Acton added thoughtfully, "We'vequite four miles yet to the summit, and there's a chance we mayn't----"

"Mayn't what, Acton, please?" said Grim, putting down his magazine. 

"Get there, Grimmy. "

"To the top? Oh, rot!" said Senior. 

"I can't quite remember such a crawl as this, Jack; listen how theengine coughs. "

"If we can't get to the top of the incline--what then?" asked Grim. 

"Go back, I should say. "

"To Lowbay?"

"Yes. But while we _do_ crawl there's no need to fret. "

"That would mean goodbye for the present to your place, old man?"

"Yes. 'Twould be a horrid nuisance, wouldn't it?"

The Amorians listened anxiously to the engine toiling up the incline;but the howling of the wind almost drowned every other sound. The pacewas still a crawl, but it was a steady one. 

"Oh! she'll worry through after all, " said Acton. 

Hardly were the words out of his mouth when the train pulled up with ajerk that sent Senior and Grim flying forward into the unexpectant armsof the dozing Dick and Gus Todd. The luggage rattled out of the rack ininstantaneous response, and whilst all the fellows were staring blanklyat each other they heard the crunching of the brake, and felt that thetrain had come to a dead stop. 

"What ever is the matter?" gasped Worcester, quite wide awake by now. 

"We've landed into a drift, I fancy, " said Acton, "and there's no homefor us to-night. What beastly luck!"

There was now no sound but the roaring of the storm; the engine gave nosign that they could hear, and Acton impatiently let down the window, but was instantly almost blinded by the snow, which whirled through theopen window. Crossing over, he tried the other with better success, andthe first thing he saw was the guard, waist deep in snow, trying to makehis way forward, and holding his lamp well before him. "What's happened, guard?" he asked. 

"Matter!--why, we're off the line for one thing, and----"

Forward, they could hear the shouts of the driver above the hiss ofescaping steam. 

"Let me have your cap, Grim, " said Acton, all energy in a moment. "I'mgoing forward to see what is up. Back in a minute. "

He slipped out carefully, but seeing the predicament of the guard, hedid not jump out into the snow, but advanced carefully along thefootboards, feeling his way forward by the brass-work of the carriages. To the leeward the bulk of the train gave comparative shelter from thefury of the storm, and Acton was in a minute abreast of the guard, floundering heavily in the drifts. 

"This is a better way, guard. Take my hand, and I'll pull you up. "

"All right, sir. Here's the lamp. "

Acton's hand closed on the guard's wrist, and in a moment the youngathlete had the man beside him. Together they made their way forward, and by the light of the lamp they saw what had happened. The engine hadtaken a drift edge-way, had canted up, and then rolled over against thewalls of the cutting. Luckily, the carriages had kept the rails. Thedriver was up to his neck in the snow, but the fireman was not visible. 

Acton availed himself of the overturned engine, which was makingunearthly noises, and reached out a hand for the driver. The latterclutched it, and scrambled out. 

"Where's your mate?"

"Tom jumped the other way, sir. "

Acton swung the lamp round, sending its broad sheet of light into thedriving snow. For a moment he could see nothing but the dazzling whitefloor, but next instant perceived the fireman, whose head rested againstthe horizontal wheel of the overturned engine. 

"This man is hurt, " he said, when he saw a crimson stain on the snow. "Take the lamp, guard. "

Acton clambered over the short tender, seized the man by the shoulder, and, with an immense effort of strength, pulled him partly up. The mangave no signs of life. 

"Bear a hand, driver, will you? He's too much for me alone. "

The driver hastily scrambled beside Acton, and in a minute or so theyhad the insensible man between them. 

"He hurt himself as he jumped, " said Acton, looking with concern at agaping cut over the man's eye. "Anyhow, our first business is to bringhim round. "

It was a weary business lifting the unconscious fireman into an emptycompartment, and still more weary work to bring him round, but at lastthis was done. Acton tore up his handkerchief, and with melted snowwashed clean the ugly cut on his forehead, and then left the fireman incharge of his mate. 

"We'll have to roost here, sir, all night. There's no getting out ofthis cutting, nohow. Thank you, sir; I'll see to Tom. "

Acton and the guard made their way back to the rear of the train, wherethe Amorians were awaiting their schoolfellow with impatience andanxiety. 

"The engine is off the rails and the stoker is damaged above a bit, "said Acton, seriously, "and we're fixtures here until the company comesand digs us out. There's only one thing to do: we must make ourselves ascomfy as possible for the night. I must see that lady, though, before wedo anything for ourselves. Back in a moment. "

Acton sallied out once more and devoted a good ten minutes to explainingmatters to the very horrified and nervous lady and her tearful littletwelve-year-old girl. 

"I'll bring you some cushions, and I'll steal Dick Worcester's pillowfor the little girl, " he explained cheerfully. "You have one rug, I see. We can spare you a couple more. No danger at all, really, But isn't itreally horrid? We have not a morsel of food to offer you, but I dare sayyou can, if you don't worry over it, put up with a makeshift bed--onlyfor one night, I'm sure. "

Acton relieved Dick Worcester--who plumed himself on his pillow--ofthat article, and one of Senior's rugs. 

On his return he confronted the dubious looks of his chums with hisinvincible cheerfulness. 

"Now, you fellows! we're to sleep here. Two on a seat is the order, andone on the floor, that's me. Dicky, darling, please don't roll off yourperch. We've plenty of rugs and overcoats: enough to stock Nansen, Grim, so we shan't all wake up frozen to death. "

Gus Todd smiled dutifully at this bull. 

The guard came with a modest request. 

"Can you roost with us? Oh! certainly. Bag another cushion for thefloor, and then you're all right. More, the merrier; and let theventilation go hang. If Mr. Worcester doesn't fall on you, guard, I daresay you'll live to tell the tale. "

The Amorians, who trusted to Acton as they would have trusted to no oneelse on earth, entered into the fun of the thing, and the last joke ofthe night was a solemn warning to Grim from Dick Worcester to avoidsnoring, as he valued his life. 

"We can manage like this for one night, anyhow, " whispered Acton to theguard, "for we really keep each other warm. We'll get out of thisto-morrow. "

The guard did not reply to this for fully a minute. He whispered back, "Listen to the wind, sir. The storm isn't half over yet. I've got mydoubts about to-morrow. We're snowed up for more'n a day. "

II

OVER THE FELLS

When day dawned, and the snowed-up travellers began to look around them, they found that, though the snow was not descending nearly as heavily ason the night before, the wind was still strong and the weather bitterlycold. 

On the windward side of the train the snow had drifted almost up to thewindow panes, but on the leeward there was considerably less. Looking upand down the line, they could see their train surrounded by its dazzlingenvironment, and the drifts were so high that they had filled the lowcutting stretching towards Lowbay level to its top. 

The train was an island in a sea of snow. 

The Amorians, stiff and cramped with their narrow quarters of the night, dropped off into the snow on the sheltered side and explored as far asthe overturned engine, now stark and cold, with wonder and awe. 

"Why, we're like rats in a trap!" exclaimed Gus Todd. 

"We'll have a council of war now, " said Acton, as he saw the driver andhis mate floundering towards them, "and then we can see what's to bedone--if anything can be done. "

It seemed the result of the council was to be the decision that therewas nothing to be done. To go back to Lowbay, or forward to Lansdale, was plainly impossible, and neither guard nor driver thought they couldbe ploughed out under two days at the earliest. "And yet, " concludedActon, "we can't starve and freeze for two days. Look here, guard, isn'tthere a fell farm somewhere hereabouts? I begin to fancy----"

"There's one over the hills yonder, three or four miles away. Might aswell be three hundred, for they'll never dream of our being snowed uphere. "

"Well, but can't we go to them, if you know the way?"

"That's just what I don't know, with all this snow about. The farm isbehind that hill somewhere; but I could no more take you there than fly. Besides, who could wade up to their necks in snow for half a mile, letalone three?"

"But the snow won't be so deep on the fells as in these cuttings. "

"That's true, I suppose. But get into a drift on the fell--and, Lord, that would be easy enough--you're done. And there's becks deep enough todrown a man, and you'll never see them till you're up to your chin intheir icy waters. I wouldn't chance it for anything. We mun wait heretill we're dug out, sir, and that's all about it. "

"Where is that farm, guard? Behind which shoulder of the fell?"

"Look here, Acton, " began Dick Worcester, apprehensively, "I'm hanged ifwe're going to let you go groping about for any blessed farm in thisstorm. We'll eat the coals in the tender first!"

"Thanks, Dick. Which shoulder, guard?"

The man explained as fully and elaborately as if he might as well talkas think. The shoulder of the fell was noted by Acton exactly andcarefully, even to borrowing a compass pendant off Todd's historicwatch--chain. 

"It lies exactly N. N. E. , and one could find one's way in the dark ifthat were all. "

"But it isn't, Acton, " said Grim, anxiously, "not by a long chalk. Oh, Acton, don't go!"

"I'm going to turn over the idea, Grim. But, anyhow, I don't stir out ofthis cutting until the snow's out of the sky. "

Acton and the guard talked long and seriously, whilst the Amorians putinto practical working Senior's idea of a fire beside the van. Therewere coals galore. 

Half an hour afterwards the snow ceased. "Now, " said Acton, quietly, "Iknow exactly where that farm is. I'm going to go now and have a try forit. I'll move the farm people, if I reach 'em, double quick back againwith food, for they're used to these fells, and then we can all go backto the farm together. The fact is, " said Acton, hurriedly, as he saw achorus of dissent about to break out, "we _must_ get out of this verysoon. There's the lady and the child--and even more than that, there isthe fireman, who is downright ill. We cannot wait till we're dug out;that is absolutely certain. I'm not going to run any danger, and if Ifind I'm likely to, I'm coming back. I fancy, really, " he added, laughing, "that the most difficult part of the business will be to getout of this cutting. "

The fellows all knew Acton; they knew that when he said things in acertain tone there was no good arguing. That was why Grim, with a whiteface, hurriedly left stoking the blazing fire and retired in dismay tothe guard's van, and why Gus Todd, in an access of angry impatience, shied the magazine he had been turning over into the middle of theflames. 

Jack Senior said, "This is just like you, Acton. You _will_ fight morethan your share of bargees, but this time I'm going to go one and onewith you. If you like to risk being drowned in those beastly moorlandstreams, or to fall into some thirty-feet drift, I'm going to go too. That is final. _Kismet_, etc. !"

Acton looked narrowly at Senior. "All right, Jack. Get your coat on;but, honour bright, I'd rather go alone. "

"Couldn't do it, old man, " said Senior, whilst Worcester noddedapprovingly. "What would Phil Bourne say, if he heard we'd let you meltaway into---- I'm going too. "

The passage out of the cutting was not so difficult as Acton hadbargained for; but Worcester and Todd did wonders with the fireman'sshovels and made a lane through the drifts. On the firm ground of thefell the two found that, though the snow was deep enough in allconscience, it was not to be compared with the drifts on the line. Thewind now, as they started off, was whipping away the loose top layers ofsnow in cold white clouds, which stung the face and ears with their icysharpness; but, with caps well down and coats buttoned up to the ears, the two trudged on. The snow had ceased, but it was plain, by the darkand lowering sky, that this might only be temporary, and Acton kept upas smart a pace as he could, heading right for the shoulder of the fell, a couple of miles away, behind which he might, if he were lucky, seethat moorland farm. The hill ran down into a valley, towards which thetwo Amorians hurried, Acton keeping his ears well open for the faintestmurmur of water. 

"There's a beck somewhere down here, Jack, but we'll not see it untilwe're almost into it. So look out!"

"All serene! I'm on the _qui vive!_" Hardly were the words out ofSenior's mouth than he stumbled headlong forward, the ground opening athis feet, and a narrow ribbon of cold grey water, silently sliding underits shrunken banks, caught Acton's eye. Senior had plumped cleanly intothis. Luckily, it was not very deep, and he scrambled out to the otherside drenched to the skin, and showing clearly enough, where he hadbroken through the snow on both sides, that all the care in the worldwould not prevent them repeating the experience. The snow overhung ayard. Acton had stopped dead when he saw Senior disappear, but in amoment he had sprung clear, and was helping his friend up the bank. Thesnow slipped silently into the stream as he jumped. 

"That's number one, " said Senior, "and only half an hour from the train!Any more hereabouts?"

"I fancy so, but we may have better luck next time. "

"Hope so. Set the pace, old man, please. It's b-b-beastly c-c-cold. "

Acton was thoroughly upset by this mishap, and he headed up the oppositeslope of the hill with a face that showed how the incident had shakenhim. Senior's teeth chattered, and he looked blue with cold. The twoplodded on, Acton insisting on Senior keeping behind. Acton again hadthe unenviable pleasure of seeing some more of those icy waters, andtheir slow and deadly stealing under the snow seemed to him sinister andfatal as he pulled himself up on the brink. The care necessary, thecold, cutting wind, and the knee-deep snow, made their progress terriblyslow, and Acton began to notice that Senior, despite his anxiety for asharp pace, was already terribly fagged. 

The distance widened between the two, and once, when Acton turned roundand found his friend nearly thirty yards behind, his heart almoststopped beating. 

"This will never do! Heaven help us if he cracks up!" He waited for theweary Senior, and then said gently, "Pace too hot, old fellow?"

"Rather. So sorry, but you seem to run almost. "

"Run!" smiled Acton, bitterly. "Why, we're not doing a mile an hour. Put your heart into it, Jack, and for Heaven's sake don't let me get toomuch in front!"

"All serene!" said Senior, gamely. 

To Acton's intense alarm, the snow had recommenced, and the wind sweptit down the fells full into their faces. Acton was afraid that he mightmake a mistake if the snow became so heavy as to blot out the landscape, and, knowing that to do so might have terrible consequences, henervously forced the pace. 

Senior responded gamely. 

"Keep well behind, old man. You'll dodge the snow better. Can you do awee sprint? We're not far from the top of the ridge, and then we've onlyto work down the hill and bear to the left, and there we are. "

"Only!" said Senior, wearily. "How far?"

"A bare mile. Step it out for all you're worth. "

By this time it was obvious that the storm had recommenced in all itsfury, and Acton, in an ecstasy of horror and anxiety lest he should turnthe shoulder of the hill too late to see anything of the farm, almostran forward. He had thrust out his head, and his eyes anxiously peeredforward. They were now almost on the top of the shoulder of the fell. Acton turned round with eagerness. 

"Five minutes more and we're---- He's gone!"

Senior, indeed, was not in sight. With a groan of despair, Acton ranback down the slope. 

"Jack! Jack! Jack!" he howled above the wind, "Where are you?"

There was no reply

"He's lost!"

Further down the slope ran Acton, shouting into the storm. He heardnothing; not a sound. Then, and his heart almost burst with joy, his eyecaught sight of a moving, staggering figure, drifting aimlessly acrosshis path. Senior, half his senses beaten out of him by cold, wet, thewind, and lack of food, looked at the screaming Acton withuncomprehending eyes, and was aimlessly shaking off his grasp to loungeeasily to death. 

"He _has_ cracked up, " said Acton, in despair, and he gripped thehalf-senseless youth with frenzied strength. 

"This is the way you're to go--with me!" he yelled. 

Half-dragging, half-coaxing, uttering strange promises, to which Seniorsmiled stupidly, Acton regained those few but terrible yards to the topof the ridge. Then his heart almost died within him: there was nothingto be seen, as, half-blinded by the snow, he tried to peer down thevalley. 

"Nothing!"

Senior, bereft of his companion's arm, had sunk down happily upon thesnow and looked at Acton, stupidly trying to make head or tail out ofthe situation. His face was darkly flushed; his lips were swollen; andhis eyes were heavy with sleep. 

Roused from his momentary despair by these terrible signs, Acton seizedhis friend by the throat of his overcoat, and jerked him to his feet. Heshook him savagely until some sign of intelligence glimmered in thesleepy eyes. 

"Jack! Jack! Keep awake! We'll win out yet if you do. "

"All right, old man: my head buzzes awf'ly, Where are we? What are youdoing?"

"We're going down the hill. Don't leave go of me whatever you do, andoh, keep awake. "

"Serene, " said Senior, closing his eyes again peacefully. 

With a sob of horror and despair, Acton lurched down the hill, dragginghis companion with him. He kept repeating, as though it were a formula:"Down the slope and bear to the left" again and again. 

What the next half-hour held of misery, horror, and utter despair, Actoncannot, even now, recall without a shudder. They stumbled and staggereddownwards like drunken men. The snow blinded him, and the draggingweight of Senior on his arm was an aching agony, from which, above allthings, he must not free himself. 

Then, as the very climax to hopeless despair, Senior rolled heavilyforward and lay prone, as helpless as a log, his face buried in thesnow! His cap had fallen off, and Acton watched the black curlswhitening in the storm. 

How long he remained there, crouched before the motionless body, he doesnot know; only that he tried many times to shake the dying youth fromthe terrible torpor in vain. Senior breathed heavily, and that was all. 

All hope had died in Acton's breast. He threw himself forward besidehis friend, and sobbed, with his face in the snow. 

A sound reached Acton's ears which brought him to his feet with a bound. He placed his hand to his ear, and sent his very soul to the effort tofix the sound again, above the roar of the wind. It was the deep, butnot distant, low of cattle. 

A third time did the low boom through the storm. 

Almost frantic with a living hope, Acton turned to Senior. He raised theunconscious youth, and, by a mighty effort, got him upon his shoulders, and then staggered off in the direction of the sound. He has a faintrecollection that he rolled over into the snow twice, that he wadedacross a river, with the water up to his arm-pits, and always that therewas a weight on his neck that almost throttled him. .. . He felt that hewas going mad. Then at last--it seemed many hours--a building, wreathedin white, seemed to spring up out of the storm. Delirious with joy, Acton staggered towards it with his burden. Some figures moved towardshim, and Acton shouted for help as he pitched forward for the last timeinto the snow. He dimly remembers strong hands raising him up andhelping him through a farmyard, which seemed somehow to tremble with thelow of cattle, and then he was in a chair, and a fire in front of him. 

 * * * * *

An hour or two afterwards, Acton was seated before a table, and, in theintervals of gulping down hot coffee and swallowing food, told histale. The peasant farmer and his wife listened open-eyed withastonishment. The farmer, from sheer amazement, dropped into thebroadest Westmoreland dialect. 

"How far did thoo carry t'other yan?"

"Don't know, really. Seemed an awful way. I went through a river, Iknow. The water guggled under my arms. "

"River!" said the farmer, rising up and running his hand over Acton'sclothes. "He _has_, wife; he's waded through t' beck! Man, give us theehand! Thoo's a--thoo's a good 'un. Noa! thoo shan't stir. I'll bringt'folk over t'fell mysel'!"

And he did--the farmhouse, a few hours afterwards, giving the snowed-uppassengers a hospitality which none of them ever forgot. 

There was the jolliest Christmas at "Raven Crag" that had ever beenknown. Mrs. Acton had whipped up a cohort of _cousins et cousines_--asthey say in the French books--and even Grim found a partner, who didn'tdance half bad--for a girl. Did I say a jolly Christmas? Well, evenjolly doesn't quite do it justice. 

Letters dropped in upon Acton in the course of the week. There was onefrom Senior's father, which made Acton blush like a school-girl. Therewas another, a very stately one, from the board-room of St. Eustis, wherein the secretary of the Great North and West Railway, on behalf ofthe directors, tendered him hearty thanks for his great services tothemselves and their employees. There was another from a lady, which_simply gushed_. There also arrived a small lock of child's hair, whichMr. Acton was begged to accept from a little girl, who slept "on Mr. Acton's pillow. " Dick Worcester claimed this, but Acton was adamant. 

"I say, Todd, " said Grim, earnestly, "don't you think we fellows mightgive Acton some memorial or other, just to show what we think of him?"

"Good, Grimmy! Trot out suggestions. "

"Well, I had thought of a stained-glass window in----"

Todd couldn't look at W. E. G. 's face for days after without a quiver. 

THE END

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PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED, LONDON AND BECCLES.