"If any one wishes to speak," said the chairman, "he is at liberty to do so; but, of course, we can't have more than one at a time."
With the exception of Hawley, those who had risen sat down again.
"I want to ask," said the former, "what were the numbers in the voting for the prefects?"
"Parkes received fifty-six votes, and Fielding forty-eight."
"Did Thurston receive any votes?"
"Yes."
"How many?"
"That," returned the captain, "is a question which, for certain reasons,I think it would be best not to answer."
"I think," interrupted Gull, rising to his feet, amid a murmur of excitement, "that we have a perfect right to insist on the figures being made public; everything in connection with these elections ought to be fair and open."
"I don't think," answered Allingford quietly, "that any one has ever had reason to accuse me of being unfair in any of my dealings; it is exactly because I think it would be hardly fair to Thurston himself that I propose not to publish the number of votes awarded to unsuccessful candidates."
The subject of this remark sat in the front row but one, lolling back against the desk behind, with his hands in his pockets and a sneering smile on his lips.
"I don't care what you do," he exclaimed, with a short laugh. "I can guess pretty well what's coming."
"There!" cried Gull; "you hear what Thurston says. Now let's have the figures."
"Very well," answered the captain. "If you insist, you shall have them.The number of votes for Thurston was sixty-one."
"Then, if he got more votes than either Parkes or Fielding, why isn't he elected?"
"Because the doctor would not sanction it. The names have to be submitted to him for approval, and he appointed Parkes and Fielding."
"Did you try to influence him to overlook Thurston?" demanded Gull angrily. But an immediate outburst of such cries as "Shame!" "Shut up!" and "Sit down!" showed the speaker he had gone too far, and rendered it unnecessary for Allingford to reply to the question.
"I think," said Fletcher senior, rising to his feet when this interruption had ceased, and looking round with a foxy smile on his face, "that, with all due respect to the gentlemen who have been elected as prefects, it is a great pity that the doctor should not have consented to confirm the choice of the school, and reappoint Thurston. I think if the matter were laid before him in a proper light he might be induced to reconsider his decision."
"Well, will you go and see him about it yourself?" asked Allingford, with a slight sneer.
"No; of course I shouldn't go alone," returned Fletcher. "I think it's a matter that should be taken up by the whole school."
There was a moment's lull in the proceedings, broken only by a confused murmur of voices; then Acton jumped to his feet. The football captain was popular with everybody, and the sight of his jovial face and sturdy figure was greeted with a burst of cheers.
"Look here, you fellows," he began. "I'm no speaker, but I can say enough to serve the purpose. I think we are very much indebted to our captain, not only for presiding over this meeting, but for what he has done and is always doing for the good of the school. I remember Ronleigh when it wasn't such a decent place as it is to-day. A lot of things went on here when I was a kid that wouldn't be put up with now, and I don't think the school ever played such good games of cricket and football as we see at the present time. A lot of this, you may take my word for it, is due to our captain, and I think we can't show our appreciation of his work in a better way than by giving him three cheers. Now, then, take the time from me. Three cheers for Allingford. HIP, HIP, HURRAH!"
The big assembly shouted till the roof rang and the windows rattled; then the meeting slowly dispersed, a feeble attempt to raise three cheers for Thurston being met with as many groans as plaudits.
The Triple Alliance, in common with the rest of their schoolfellows, little thought, on returning from their summer holidays, what a memorable epoch the coming term would prove in the history of Ronleigh College; still less did any one imagine what important results would arise from the action of the three friends, and how much would depend on the loyalty of these youngsters for theirAlma Mater.
They settled down to enjoy a peaceful thirteen weeks of work and play. Jack Vance reported that the robbery of "the Hermit's" coins was regarded at Todderton as quite a piece of ancient history; and as Noaks appeared to have forgotten the existence of the clasp-knife, and, growing every day more intimate with Thurston and Co., seemed more than ever inclined to go his way and leave his former foes alone, the latter made up their minds to banish dull care, and consider their unfortunate misadventure as a storm which they had safely weathered.
The wave of excitement caused by the elections soon passed over. The new prefects entered upon their duties, and in the performance of the same apparently met with no ill-will or opposition; yet to every keen observer it was evident that the recent contest had left behind it a distinct under-current of dissatisfaction, and for the first time in the memory of all concerned Ronleigh was a house divided against itself—no longer united in a common cause, but split into two factions, one pulling against the other, thinking more of party interests than of the honour and welfare of the whole community.
The first occasion on which this spirit clearly manifested itself was some ten days after the elections, when the college played their first football match of the season against Ronleigh town. Thurston's name had, as usual, been included in the list of the eleven which was posted up on Wednesday morning, but before school was over it was noised abroad that he had refused to play.
"I say, you fellows, have you heard about 'Thirsty'?" said Fletcher junior, as the Lower Fourth straggled into their classroom after interval. "I wonder if it's true."
"Oh, it's true enough," answered Grundy from the back desk; "and I'm jolly glad he's done it. I heard him say this morning that if Allingford and those other fellows wouldn't put up with him as a prefect, they shouldn't have him in the team."
"Well, I call that rot," cried Jack Vance: "the team doesn't belong toAllingford or to anybody else—"
"Oh, shut your mouth, you young prig!" interrupted Grundy, and the entrance of Mr. Greyling put a stop to any further conversation.
I am inclined to think that a much nobler spirit would pervade such field-sports as cricket and football if the fact could be more firmly impressed upon the minds of both players and spectators that, providing the conduct of each side is fair and generous, and that every one does his "big best," it is equally creditable to lose as to win. Certainly both sides should strive their hardest to gain the day; but let boys especially remember, in an uphill game, when scoring goes against them, that it is to the honour of the slaughtered Spartans and not of the victorious Persians that the pass of Thermopylae has become a household word.
In addition to the loss of Thurston, who, to do him justice, was a very good forward, the school team was weakened still further by an unfortunate accident which befell Rowlands, who twisted his ankle, and was forced to leave the ground at the very commencement of the game. The Town were unusually strong, and the bulk of the back work fell on Allingford. The captain played a magnificent game, and covered himself with glory; but in spite of all that he and his men could do, after a gallant fight the visitors claimed the victory with a score of four goals to two.
On the morning after the match, just before school, the members of the Triple Alliance were strolling across the entrance-hall, when they noticed a crowd of boys surrounding the notice-board. The gathering seemed to consist mainly of members of the lower classes, and the manner in which they were elbowing each other aside, laughing, talking, and gesticulating, showed that some announcement of rather uncommon interest and importance must be exposed to view.
Our three friends hurried forward to join the group. Pinned to the board with an old pen-nib was a half-sheet of scribbling-paper, and inscribed thereon, in what was evidently a disguised handwriting, were some verses, which were seen at once to refer to the previous afternoon's defeat. They were as follows:—
COLLEGE V. TOWN.Air, "Bonnie Dundee."
To the boys of the college 'twas Allingford spoke:"When we play the Town team there are heads to be broke;So let ten veteran players come now follow me,And fight for the honour of ancient Ronleigh."
Chorus.
"Then put up your goal-posts, and mark your touch-line;We'll grind them to powder, and put them in brine.Let boarders and day boys all come out to seeUs fight for the honour of ancient Ronleigh."
The ten merry men mustered quick at his call—There were forwards, and half-backs, and goal-keeper tall;But one who was wont in the forefront to beNo longer was seen in the ranks of Ronleigh.
Chorus: "Then put up your goal-posts, and mark," etc.
Too soon their rejoicings and empty their boast,For the Town fellows very soon had them on toast;And the bystanders sighed as they saw frequentlyThe ball pass the "back" of our ancient Ronleigh.
Chorus: "Then put up your goal-posts, and mark," etc.
From this draw a moral, you fellows who rule:Sink personal spite when you act for the school;And whatever your notions of prefects may be,Let's have the right men in the team at Ronleigh.
Chorus: "Then put up your goal-posts, and mark," etc.
Something in these doggerel lines excited Jack Vance's wrath above measure, the last verse especially raising his anger to boiling-point, so that it fairly bubbled over. Jack was a loyal-hearted youngster; he was nothing to Allingford, but Allingford was something to him, as head and leader of the community of which he himself was a member. The sight of the captain toiling manfully through the long, unequal contest of the previous afternoon, doing practically double work to make up for the loss of his fellow-back, and to prevent a losing game degenerating into a rout, rose up once more before the small boy's mind, and, as has been said before, his wrath boiled over.
"Well, I call that a beastly shame. The chap who wrote it ought to be kicked round the field."
"My eye," cried Grundy, "listen to what's talking! Kicked round the field, indeed! Why, I think it's jolly good: it serves Allingford and those other fellows just right for turning Thurston out of the team."
"What a lie!" retorted Jack. "You know very well they didn't turn him out; he went out of his own accord."
"Here, don't give me any of your cheek," said Grundy, sidling up to his antagonist in a threatening manner; "you mean to say I'm a liar, eh?"
The advent of three Fifth Form boys—one of whom took Grundy by the shoulders and pushed him away, with the command to "Get out and lie on the mat"—put an end, for the time being, to the altercation. The crowd increased: boys of all ages stopped to read the verses; some few laughed, and pronounced them jolly good; but to do them justice, the greater number of Ronleians were too jealous of the honour of their school to see much fun in this attempt to lampoon their football representatives. Just as the bell was ringing for assembly, the paper was torn down by Trail, the head of the Remove, who ripped it up into fifty pieces, and in answer to Gull's inquiry what he did that for, replied, "I'll jolly soon show you!" in such a menacing tone that the questioner saw fit to turn on his heel and walk away with an alacrity of movement not altogether due to any particular eagerness to commence work.
The Lower Fourth were straggling down the passage on the way to their classroom, when they heard a scuffle and the clatter of falling books. Grundy had seized Jack Vance by the collar from behind, and was screwing his knuckle into his victim's neck.
"Yes; you called me a liar, didn't you?"
"So you are! Let go my coat!"
"Oh, so you stick to it, do you? I'll—"
The sentence was interrupted by Jack giving a sudden twist and striking his antagonist a heavy blow in the chest, which sent him staggering against the opposite wall. Grundy was nearly a head taller than Vance; but the latter's blood was up, and in another moment the dogs of war would have assuredly broken loose had not the flutter of a gown at the end of the passage announced the advent of Mr. Greyling.
The class had finished translating from their Latin author, and had just commenced writing an exercise, when a note was passed over to Jack Vance from the desk behind; it was short and to the point:—
"Will you fight me after twelve at the back of the pavilion?—H. GRUNDY."
Jack read the challenge, turned round and nodded, and then went calmly on with his work as though nothing had happened.
This cool way of treating the matter did not altogether please Grundy, who had rather expected that his adversary would elect to "take a licking." He had, however, every reason to count upon an easy victory, and so promptly despatched another note, which contained the words: "Very well. I'll smash you."
Later on a third epistle was handed over: "Don't tell any one, or there'll be too much of a crowd."
It was not until the interval that the two other members of the TripleAlliance were informed of the coming conflict.
"You don't really mean you're going to fight him?" said Mugford.
"Of course I am."
"You'll get licked!" added Diggory, with a sigh.
"I don't care if I am. If I land him one or two, he won't be in a hurry to lick me again. Don't you remember what you said ages ago at The Birches, Diggy, when you went down that slide on skates? Well, it's the same thing with me now. I'm going to show him, once and for all, that he's not going to ride rough-shod over me for nothing."
During the last hour of school, which happened to be devoted to algebra, the only member of the Triple Alliance who seemed able to work was Jack Vance. Diggory made a hash of nearly every sum, while Mugford simply collapsed, and could not even remember that like signs madeplus, and unlikeminus.
"I say, Diggy," whispered the latter, "don't you think Grundy'll lick him?"
"I don't know," returned the other, with a desperate attempt to be cheerful; "you never know what may happen. He may—"
"Trevanock, stop talking," interrupted Mr. Greyling. "If I have to speak to you again for inattention, you'll stay in and work out these examples after twelve."
At length the faint jangle of the bell announced the fact that the eventful hour had arrived: the Lower Fourth passed on into the big schoolroom, and were dismissed with the other classes.
Jack betrayed not the least sign of excitement, and insisted on going down into the grub-room to feed two white mice before setting out for the "front." His two friends, however, weighed down with anxiety, and with dismal forebodings as to the result of the coming conflict, were obliged to seek support by informing "Rats" of what was about to take place, and begging him to give them the benefit of his cheering company.
Young "Rats," who was always ready to take part in anything from a garden party to a game of marbles, immediately accepted the invitation.
"Jolly glad you told me," he cried; "wouldn't have missed seeing it for anything. Jack Vance and Grundy—whew-w-w!"
The long whistle with which he concluded the sentence had certainly an ominous sound, but the appearance of their principal was the signal for the seconds to hide their fears under an assumed air of jovial confidence.
"You'll be certain to lick him, Jack," said Diggory, with a face as long as a fiddle;—"won't he, 'Rats'?"
"Lick him!" answered "Rats;" "I should think so! Lick him into fits;I could do it myself."
"He's a beastly bully," added Mugford solemnly; "and bullies always get licked—in books."
"I don't care," answered Jack jauntily, "if I lick him or not, but I know he'll find me a pretty hard nut to crack."
Ronleigh had no recognized duelling-ground, but when a premeditated encounter did take place, the combatants usually resorted to a little patch of grass situated between the back of the pavilion and the edge of the adjoining field. Here it was possible to conduct an affair of honour without much fear of interruption.
Grundy was already at the trysting-place, accompanied by Andson, a chum from the Upper Fourth, and Fletcher junior. It was quite an informal little gathering, and the business was conducted in a free-and-easy manner, and with an entire absence of the cut-and-dried ceremony which characterized similar undertakings in the palmy days of the prize ring.
"Look here, young Vance," said Grundy, "if you like to apologize for calling me a liar, I'll let you off; if not, I'm going to punch your head."
"Punch away!" answered Jack stolidly, and all further attempt at pacification was abandoned.
The principals took off their coats and collars, while their companions drew aside to give them room, and the signal was given to commence the action.
Grundy made no attempt at any display of science; he simply relied on his superior strength and size, and charged down upon his adversary with the intention of thumping and pounding him till he gave in. Jack Vance knew very little about the "noble art," except that it was the proper thing to hit straight from the shoulder; and following out this fundamental principle, he succeeded in landing his opponent a good hard drive between the eyes, which made him see more stars than are to be witnessed at the explosion of a sixpenny rocket. Grundy drew back, and after blinking and rubbing his nose for a moment, came on again, this time with greater caution. Jack, on the other hand, emboldened by his previous success, made an unwise attempt to rush the fighting, and was rewarded with a sounding smack on the cheek-bone which broke the skin and sent him staggering back into the arms of Diggory.
Once more the combatants approached each other, this time with a little more feinting and dodging, which showed a certain amount of respect for the weight of each other's fists. At length, urged on to further feats of arms by impatient ejaculations of "Now, then, go into it!" and "Keep the game alive!" from Fletcher and Andson, they closed again, and after a sharp interchange of rather random pounding, Jack smote his opponent on the nose, and received in return a heavy blow on the chest which very nearly sent him to the ground.
After this there was another short breathing-space; a thin stream of blood was trickling from Grundy's nasal organ, while Diggory and Mugford noticed with aching hearts that their comrade was beginning to look rather limp, and was getting short of breath.
What would have been the ultimate result of the contest had it been resumed I am sure I cannot say, but I fear that, taking Grundy's superior weight and height into consideration, the story of the fight would have been recorded among the trials and not the triumphs of the Triple Alliance. As it was, a sudden interruption brought the encounter to a premature close.
"Hullo, you young beggars! what are you up to?"
The voice was that of Allingford, who, attracted by cries of "Go it!"— "Give him another!"—"Bravo, Vance!" and other warlike shouts, had hurried round to the rear of the pavilion to find out what was happening.
"Hullo!" he continued, stepping forward and grasping Grundy by the shoulder; "what's up? what's the joke?"
"It's only a bit of a fight," said Andson; "they had a row this morning."
"What, d'you mean to say you're fighting that youngster? Why don't you choose some one a bit smaller?" demanded the captain, rather bitterly.
"Well, it's his own doing," growled Grundy. "I offered to let him off, but he wanted to have it out."
"Pshaw!" returned the other. "Look here, I've half a mind to give you two a jolly good 'impot' to keep you out of mischief. Now stop it, d'you hear, or I'll send both your names in to Denson."
Fletcher and Andson had already beaten a retreat, and Grundy was preparing to follow, when Allingford called him back.
"Come," he said, in a kinder tone. "I don't know what your quarrel's about, but finish it up like men, and shake hands."
The boys did as they were told, and though the salutation was not a very hearty one, it helped to extinguish the smouldering sparks of anger which might at some future meeting have been once more fanned into a flame.
Grundy disappeared round the corner of the building; but Allingford remained for a moment or two, watching Jack Vance as he fastened on his collar and resumed his coat.
"Well, what was the row about?"
"Oh, nothing."
"Nonsense; fellows don't fight for nothing. What was it? Any great secret?"
"Oh no," answered Jack, laughing: "it began about that lot of verses that was pinned upon the notice-board this morning. Grundy said Thurston was turned out of the team, and I said he wasn't."
The captain smiled thoughtfully, and going down on one knee examined the wounded cheek. "Put some cold water to it," he said, and then walked away.
That look was worth fifty bruises, and for it Jack would have continued the fight with Grundy to the bitter end. Diggory and Mugford fell upon his neck, and were loud in their declarations that in another round their champion would have "knocked the stuffing out" of his opponent. That this would really have been the case is, as I remarked before, rather doubtful; but one fact is certain—that the conflict caused the three friends to be more firmly established than ever in their loyalty to the side of law and order.
For a couple of days fellows continued to talk about the skit on the eleven, and to hazard guesses as to who was the writer. As the majority, however, pronounced it "a dirty shame," and spoke of the author as "some mean skunk," the poet wisely concluded to conceal his identity, and by the end of the week the matter was, for the time being, practically forgotten.
Thurston followed up his withdrawal from the football team by a number of other actions which clearly showed a determination to spend what was known to be his last term at Ronleigh in living at open enmity with those who had once been his friends and associates. He never played unless it was in one of the rough-and-ready practice games, composed chiefly of stragglers, who, from being kept in and various other causes, were too late for the regular pick-ups, and came drifting on to the field later in the afternoon. He severed his connection with the debating society, and shunning the society of his comrades in the Sixth, was seen more frequently than ever hobnobbing with Gull and Hawley, or lounging about in conversation with Noaks and Mouler.
Fletcher senior, a mean, double-faced fellow, continued, as the saying goes, "to run with the hare and hunt with the hounds."
"It's an awful pity about old 'Thirsty,'" he would say to his brother prefects. "I try to keep him a bit straight; but upon my word, if he will go on being so friendly with such cads as Gull and Noaks, I shall chuck him altogether."
The speaker's methods of endeavouring to keep his chum straight were, to say the least of it, not very effective, and, if anything, rather more calculated to encourage him still further in his descent along the downward road.
"Look here!" said Fletcher, as they sat one evening talking in Thurston's study: "don't you think you'd better make peace with Allingford and the rest, and be a nice white sheep again, instead of a giddy old black one? I can tell you at present they don't look upon you as being a particular credit to the Sixth."
"I don't care what they think; they're a beastly set of prigs, and I'll have nothing more to do with them—with Allingford especially."
"Well, of course," answered Fletcher, with an air of resignation, "the quarrel's yours and not mine. I must own that I think Allingford made a great deal of unnecessary fuss over that Black Swan business, and acted very shabbily in making you send in your resignation just before the holidays. There's something, too, that I can't understand about the doctor's not confirming your re-election; and I think there ought to have been some further attempt made to get you to remain in the team— you did a lot of good service last season. However, my advice is, Put your pride in your pocket, and return to the fold."
Young Carton had shown that he possessed a certain amount of insight into character when he told Diggory that Thurston was a dangerous fellow to cross. The ex-prefect's brow darkened as Fletcher enumerated this list of real or imaginary grievances, and at the conclusion of the latter's speech there was a short silence.
"Yes," said Thurston, suddenly making the fender jump and rattle with a vicious kick. "Allingford's got his knife in me; he's bent on spoiling my life here. But that's a game two can play at. I've got a plan or two in my head, and I'll take the change out of him and those other prigs before the term's finished."
Grundy still continued to brag and swagger in the Lower Fourth, but his attitude towards Jack Vance suddenly underwent a change. Towards the latter he assumed quite a friendly bearing, and though still remaining a stanch Thurstonian, refrained from making himself aggressively obnoxious to the Triple Alliance. The hatchet had been buried for nearly a fortnight when an event happened which caused Ronleigh College to be once more convulsed with excitement and party feeling—a certain air of mystery which pervaded the whole affair tending to considerably increase the interest which the occurrence itself awakened.
Allingford had not, perhaps, been altogether wise in his choice of Lucas as keeper of the reading-room. The latter was a studious, hard-working boy in the Fifth, whose parents were known to be in comparatively poor circumstances, and the captain had named him in preference to Ferris, thinking that the guinea which was given as remuneration to the holder of this post, as well as to the two librarians, would be specially acceptable to one who seldom had the means to purchase the books which he longed to possess.
The duties of the keeper of the reading-room were to receive and take charge of the papers and magazines, to keep the accounts, and to be nominally responsible for the order of the room. I say nominally, as the law relating to absolute silence was never actually enforced; and as long as the members amused themselves in a reasonably quiet manner, and without turning the place into a bear-garden, they were allowed to converse over their games of chess or draughts, and exchange their opinions on the news of the day.
Lucas was, if one may say it, a little too conscientious in the execution of his duties, and rather apt to be fussy and a trifle overbearing in his manner. He posted copies of the rules on each of the four walls of the room, and insisted on decorous behaviour and perfect silence. The consequence was that he soon became the butt of innumerable jokes: fellows said they weren't in school, and meant to enjoy themselves.
"Rats" hit on the idea of carrying in an old newspaper under his coat. This he surreptitiously produced, and pretended to read as though it belonged to the room. At a favourable moment, with an exclamation of, "Well, this is a rotten paper!" he suddenly crunched the sheet up in his hands and tore it into fifty pieces. Lucas, naturally imagining that the property of the room was being destroyed, rushed up exploding with wrath. An explanation followed, and the whole assembly went off into fits of merriment, at the latter's expense.
By the time this trick was worn out, other waggish gentlemen had introduced the practice of dropping wax matches on the floor and treading on them, and of hunting an imaginary moth—an irresistibly humorous proceeding, in which the participators rushed about brandishing books and magazines, ever and anon crying, "There he is!" and smiting on the head some quiet, unoffending reader. Some evil-minded young miscreant went so far as to put bits of india-rubber on the top of the stove, the consequence being that in a short time a mysterious smell arose of such a fearful and distressing nature that every one was obliged to bolt out into the passage.
Those boys who at the time of the elections had formed the rank and file of the Thurstonian party, saw here an opportunity for showing their resentment of what they still chose to consider unfair conduct on Allingford's part. As a result, so they said, of the captain's favouritism, Lucas had been forced into a position for which he was entirely un-fitted; and with the expressed determination "not to stand him at any price," they proved themselves ever ready to assist in keeping up a constant repetition of the disturbances which have just been described.
These games, it need hardly be said, were not carried on when any of the prefects or members of the Sixth happened to be present; but during the half-hour between the end of tea and the commencement of preparation, when it rarely happened that any of the seniors put in an appearance, the conduct of the place went steadily from bad to worse. Lucas lost his head and lost his temper, and in doing so lost all control of his charge; and at last things were brought to a climax in the manner we are about to describe.
At the back of the room was one of those short desks which can be changed at will into a seat, the top part falling over and making a back-rest, while the form remains stationary. In connection with this article of furniture Gull one evening introduced a new pastime, which he called putting fellows in the stocks, and which consisted in decoying innocent small boys into taking a seat, then suddenly pushing them backwards on to the floor, and imprisoning their feet between the form and the reversible desk—a position from which they only extricated themselves with considerable difficulty.
Lucas made a couple of attempts to interfere and stop the proceedings, and when at length, for the third time, a thud and a shout of laughter announced that still another victim had fallen into the trap, he rose in wrath, and ordered Gull to leave the room.
"I shan't," returned the other. "Keep to yourself, and mind your own business."
"That's just what I'm doing; you know the rules as well as I do. It's my business to keep order in this room."
"Rubbish! Who do you think cares for your rules, you jack-in-office?"
"Will you leave the room?"
"No, of course I won't. If you want to act 'chucker-out,' you'd better try it on."
In desperation Lucas resolved to play his last card. "Look here, Gull," he said, rising from his seat. "You know I'm not your match in size or strength, or you wouldn't challenge me to fight; but this I will do: unless you leave the room, I shall go at once and report you to Dr. Denson."
The offender, seeing perhaps that this was no empty threat, evidently considered it the wiser plan not to risk an interview with the head-master.
"Oh, keep your wig on!" he answered, with a scornful laugh. "I shouldn't like to make you prove yourself a sneak as well as a coward. I'm going in a minute."
The assembly, who for the most part considered the stocks joke very good fun, and were possessed with all the traditional schoolboy hatred for anything in the shape of telling tales, showed their disapproval with a good deal of booing and hissing as Gull sauntered out of the room, and Lucas bent over his accounts with the despairing sense of having lost instead of gained by the encounter.
It soon became evident that the matter was not to be allowed to drop without some show of feeling, for on the following morning the unfortunate official was greeted with jeers and uncomplimentary remarks wherever he went.
Just before tea Diggory and Jack Vance were crossing the quadrangle on their way from the gymnasium to the schoolroom, when they were accosted by Fletcher junior.
"I say," remarked the latter, in rather a knowing manner, "if you want to see a lark, come to the reading-room before 'prep.'"
"Why, what's up?"
"Oh, never mind; don't tell any one I told you," and the speaker passed on.
"Shall we go?" said Diggory.
"We might as well," answered his companion, laughing. "I wonder what the joke is! Another moth-hunt, or some more of that 'stocks' business, I suppose."
When the two friends entered the reading-room, it presented an unusually quiet and orderly appearance. About twenty boys were seated at the various desks and tables, all occupied with games of chess or draughts, or in the perusal of magazines and papers. Even Grundy, who never read anything but an occasional novel, was poring over the advertisement columns ofThe Daily News, with apparently great interest, while young Fletcher was equally engrossed in the broad pages ofThe Times. An attempt to put "Rats" in the stocks utterly failed, from the fact that those who were usually foremost in acts of disorder refused to render any assistance, and even went so far as to nip the disturbance in the bud with angry ejaculations of "Here, dry up!"—"Stop it, can't you?"
"I say," murmured Diggory, after sitting for a quarter of an hour listlessly turning over the pages of a magazine, "Fletcher's sold us about that lark; I don't see the use of staying here any longer."
Hardly had the words been uttered when some one in the passage outside crowed like a cock. There was a rustling of newspapers, and the next instant all four gas-jets were turned out simultaneously, and the room was plunged in total darkness. What followed it would be difficult to describe. The door was flung open, there was an inrush of boys from the passage, and the place became a perfect pandemonium. Tables were overturned, books and magazines went whizzing about in the darkness, a grand "scrum" seemed in progress round Lucas's desk, while amid the chorus of whoops, whistles, and cat-calls the latter's voice was distinctly audible, crying in angry tones,—
"Leave me alone, you blackguards; let go, I say!"
Jack and Diggory listened in amazement to the uproar with which they suddenly found themselves surrounded, and not wishing to risk the chance of having a form or a table upset on their toes, remained seated in their corner, wondering how the affair would end.
At length, piercing the general uproar, came the distantclang, clangof the bell for preparation. The tumult suddenly subsided, and there was a rush for the passage. Hardly had this stampede been accomplished when some one struck a match and lit the gas-jet nearest the door: it was Gull.
He stood for a moment looking round the room with a sardonic smile upon his face, evidently very well pleased with the sight which met his gaze. The place certainly presented the appearance of a town which had been bombarded, carried by storm, and pillaged for a week by some foreign foe. Most of the furniture was upset or pulled out of place, magazines and papers lay strewn about in every direction, ink was trickling in black rivulets about the floor, and draughts and chess men seemed to have been scattered broadcast all over the place. In addition to our two friends, three other boys, who had evidently taken no active part in the proceedings, still remained at some seats next to the wall; while Lucas, with hair dishevelled, waistcoat torn open, and collar flying loose, stood flushed and panting amid thedebrisof his overturned desk.
"Well, I'm sure!" said Gull, with a short laugh; "you fellows seem to have been having rather a bit of fun here this evening. I thought I heard a row, and I was coming to see what it was; only just when I got to the door, about fifty chaps bounced out and nearly knocked me down.— What have they been up to, eh, Lucas?"
"Never you mind," answered the unfortunate official, choking with rage; "the bell's gone, so all of you clear out."
"Well, you can't blame me this journey," retorted Gull, calmly striking another match and lighting the next gas-jet. "It seems to me this is a little too much of a good thing. You'll have to lick a few of them, Lucas, my boy; and if you can't manage it yourself, you'd better get some one else to do it for you—your friend Allingford, for instance."
The master on duty in the big schoolroom had to call several times for silence before the subdued hum of muttered conversation entirely ceased. Every one had heard of the reading-room riot, and was anxious to discuss the matter with his companions.
"Who did it? who did it?" was the question asked on all sides.
"I don't know," would be the answer. "They say it wasn't the fellows who were in the room—some of them put the gas out; but it was a lot of other chaps, who rushed in after, who did all the damage and caused such 'ructions.'"
"It seems to me," remarked Diggory to his two chums, "that it was a put-up job, all arranged beforehand."
"Then who d'you think planned it?" asked Mugford.
"I don't know, but I believe Gull had a hand in it."
"Oh, I don't think that," answered Jack Vance. "He came in and lit the gas; if he'd been in it, he'd have skedaddled with the rest."
"Um—would he?" returned Diggory, nodding his head in a sagacious manner; "I'm rather inclined to think he came in on purpose."
By the end of supper a fresh rumour spread which caused the affair to assume a still graver and more important aspect. Lucas had reported the whole thing to the head-master, and the latter had expressed his intention of inquiring into it on the following day. The truth of these tidings was proved beyond all possibility of doubt when, next morning at breakfast, an announcement was made that the school would assemble immediately after the boys left the hall, instead of gathering, as usual, at nine o'clock.
Every one knew what this meant. The subject had been discussed for hours in most of the dormitories on the previous evening, and when Dr. Denson ascended his throne there was no necessity for him to strike the small hand-bell—the usual signal for silence; an expectant hush pervaded the whole of the big room, showing clearly the interest which every one felt in the business on hand.
"I need hardly say," began the doctor, in his clear, decisive manner, "that my object in calling you together is to inquire into a disgraceful piece of disorder which took place in the reading-room last night. I am astonished that such outrageous behaviour should be possible in what, up to the present time, I have always been proud to regard as a community of gentlemen. Such an offence against law and order cannot be allowed to pass unpunished. I feel certain that the greater number of those here present had no share in it, and I shall give the culprits a chance of proving themselves at all events sufficiently honourable to prevent their schoolfellows suffering the consequences which have arisen from the folly of individuals. Let those boys who are responsible for what occurred last evening stand up!"
With one exception nobody stirred; a solitary small boy rose to his feet, and in spite of the gravity of the situation a subdued titter ran through the assembly. Apparently the whole of the row and disturbance of the previous evening was the handiwork of one single boy, and that boy the youthful "Rats."
"Well, Rathson," said the head-master grimly, "am I to understand that you single-handed overturned forms and tables, scattered books and papers to the four winds, and nearly tore the clothes off another boy's back?"
"N—no, sir," answered "Rats" plaintively.
"Then will you explain exactly what you did do?"
"I was reading—and the gas went out—and some one emptied a box of chess-men over my head—and I—I hit him—and then there was a lot of pushing, and I pushed, and—" concluded "Rats" apologetically— "and I think I shouted."
"H'm!" said the doctor; "so that's all you did. Sit down, sir.—Lucas!"
"Yes, sir."
"Do you remember what boys were in the reading-room last night?"
"Yes, sir, but I don't think they were responsible for what happened; it was done by others who came in from outside."
There was a silence.
"I ask once more," said the head-master, "what boys took part in this disturbance? let them stand up!"
Once more young "Rats" alone pleaded guilty.
"Very well, then," continued the doctor sternly; "the whole school will be punished: there will be no half-holiday on Wednesday afternoon, and the reading-room will be closed for a fortnight.—Sit down, Rathson; you are the only boy among the many who must have been connected with this affair—the only one, I say, who has any sense of manliness or honour. Write me a hundred lines, and bring them to me to-morrow morning."
The prospect of having to work on Wednesday afternoon caused, the boys themselves to take up the doctor's inquiry, and the query, "Who did it?" became the burning question of the hour.
The riot had evidently been carefully planned beforehand, and the plot arranged in such a manner that those who took part in it might do so without being recognized.
It was impossible to discover who really were the culprits, though the majority of the boys put it down as having been done by "some of 'Thirsty's' lot," and as being a further proof of the latter's well-known animosity towards Allingford, who had, of course, appointed Lucas as keeper of the room.
"Look here!" said Diggory, accosting Fletcher Two in the playground: "what made you tell us to come to the reading-room last night? How did you know there was going to be a row?"
"I didn't," murmured the other warily. "All I knew was that they were going to put 'Rats' in the 'stocks;' I hadn't the faintest idea there was going to be such a fine old rumpus."
"Umph! hadn't you?" muttered Diggory, turning on his heel; "I know better."
The reading-room row, as it was called, had pretty well blown over, when one morning Diggory accosted Jack Vance and Mugford, who were both seated at the latter's desk, sharpening their knives on an oil-stone.
"I say, you fellows, look what I've found." As he spoke, he laid on the desk a slip of paper; it was evidently a scrap torn out of some exercise-book, and inscribed upon it were several lines of capital letters, all jumbled together without any apparent object in their arrangement, and, to be more exact, placed as follows:—
"Well, what is there funny about that?" asked Jack; "it looks to me as if some one had been practising making capitals."
"Is it a puzzle?" inquired Mugford.
"No, but I'll tell you what I think it is," answered Diggory, sitting down, and speaking in a low, mysterious tone: "it's a letter written in cipher."
"A letter?" repeated Mugford, glancing at the paper. "Why, how could any one read that rubbish—NVVG?"
"Of course they can, if they know the key. Didn't I say it was written in cipher, you duffer? Every letter you see there stands for something different."
"Then why didn't they write the proper letters at once, and have done with it?" grumbled Mugford.
"Because, you prize ass," retorted Diggory, with pardonable asperity, "they didn't want it read."
"Then if they didn't want it read, why did they write it at all?" exclaimed Mugford triumphantly.
"Oh, shut up! you're cracked, you—"
"Look here," interrupted Jack Vance, "where did you find the thing?"
"Why, you know the window in the box-room that looks out on the 'quad;' well, there's a little crack under the ledge between the wooden frame and the wall, and this note was stuck in there. I should never have seen it, only I was watching a spider crawling up the wall, and it ran into the hole close to the end of the paper. Some fellows must be using the place as a sort of post-office; don't you remember Fred Acton made one in the wainscotting at The Birches? only these fellows have invented a cipher. Well, I'm going to find it out, and read this note, just for the lark."
"How are you going to do it, though? I don't see it's possible to read a thing like this; you can't tell where one word ends and a fresh one begins."
"There is a way of finding out a cipher," answered Diggory; "it tells you how to do it in that book that we bought when Mug had his things sold by auction at Chatford."
"What, in Poe's tales?" asked Mugford. "Yes; in one of the stories called 'The Gold Bug.' Where is the book?"
"I lent it to Maxton, but I should think he's finished it by this time.I'll go and see."
"All right," said Diggory, pocketing the slip of paper; "you get it, and then I can show you what I mean. Come on, Jack; let's go out."
The two friends were just rising from the form on which they had been sitting, when they were accosted by Browse, who, strolling up with a pair of dilapidated slippers on his feet, which caused him to walk as though he were skating, inquired in drawling tones, "I say, have either of you kids got a watch-key?"
Jack Vance handed him the required article, which happened to be of the kind which fit all watches.
The Sixth Form "sap" was very short-sighted, and proceeded to wind up his timepiece, holding it close to his spectacles throughout the operation.
"I can't think how it is," he continued, in his sing-song tone,"I'm always losing my key. I've had two new ones already this term.I always stick them in a place where I think they're sure not to getlost, and then I forget where I put them. Thanks awfully."
"What a queer old codger Browse is!" remarked Diggory, as the big fellow moved away; "no one would ever think he was so clever."
"No," answered Jack Vance. "By-the-bye, did you hear that he had another row with 'Thirsty' last night?"
"No; what about?"
"Oh, the same thing as before. Some fellows were making a beastly row in Thurston's study, and Browse couldn't work, so he threatened if they weren't quiet he'd report them to the doctor. 'Thirsty' came out in an awful wax, and said for two pins he'd knock Browse down; and young Collis, who was standing at the top of the stairs, says he believes he'd have done it if some of the other fellows in the Sixth hadn't come out and interfered."
In the course of the afternoon Diggory secured Mugford's copy of Poe's tales, and (sad to relate) spent a good part of that evening's preparation in trying to unravel the secret of the mysterious missive which he had found in the box-room. So intent was he on solving the problem that, instead of going down to supper with the majority of his companions, he remained seated at his desk, poring over the experiments which he was making according to directions given in the famous story of "The Gold Bug."
"Well, how are you getting on ?" inquired Jack Vance, as the crowd came straggling back from the dining-hall.
"Oh, pretty well," answered the other. "The first thing you have to do is to find E; it's the letter which occurs most frequently. Well, in this case V is the letter which comes oftenest—there are fourteen of them—so V is E. Then, when you know what E is, you search for the word 'the.' There are certain to be several 'the's' in the piece; so you look for instances in which the same two letters come before E, or, in this case, before V. Well, here it is, G S V, five times; so you are pretty certain that G S V is 'the,' or, in other words, that G is T, S is H, and V is E. That's as far as I've got at present; but I mean to worry out the rest of it to-morrow."
While Diggory was holding forth in the big schoolroom on his methods of reading a cipher, a conversation of a very different character, and on a matter of grave importance, was taking place in the study of the school captain.
Allingford and John Acton were seated in front of the former's little fireplace talking over matters connected with the football club. Suddenly there was a sound of hurrying feet in the passage; the next instant the door burst open, and in bounced Browse. The two prefects gazed at him for a moment in open-mouthed astonishment; then Acton broke the silence, exclaiming, "Why, Browse, what's the matter?"
The "sap" certainly presented an extraordinary appearance. His spectacles were gone; his hair was pasted all over his face, as though he had just come up from a long dive; his clothes were torn, and in a state of the wildest disorder; while the strangest part of all was that from head to foot he seemed soaking wet, drenched through and through with water, which dripped from his garments as he stood.
"Why, man alive!" cried Allingford, "what have you been up to?"
"It's those blackguards!" gasped Browse, choking with rage, and shaken for once in a way out of his usual drawl; "it's that Thurston and his crew—I know it was!"
"But what was? what's the matter?"
With some little difficulty the two prefects at length succeeded in extracting from their excited comrade an account of his wrongs; even then such an amount of cross-questioning was necessary that it will be best to make no attempt at a verbatim report, but rather to give the reader a more concise version of the story.
From Browse's statement it appeared that just before supper some one had come to his study, saying: "Smeaton wants you in the 'lab;' look sharp!" The door had only been opened about a couple of inches, and then closed again. From the few words thus spoken Browse did not recognize the voice; but thinking that his particular friend Smeaton (another tremendous worker) was engaged in some important experiments, and needed his assistance, he hurried away, never dreaming but that the message he had received was genuine.
In order to reach the laboratory, it was necessary to traverse the box-room and the gymnasium, both of which were in darkness, the lights being turned out by the prefect on duty when the boys assembled for preparation.
Across the first of these chambers Browse groped his way in safety. Hardly, however, had he crossed the threshold of the second, when he was suddenly seized and held fast by several strong pairs of hands. His indignant expostulations were met with a titter of suppressed laughter; he was roughly forced down upon his knees, and while in this position what seemed like two buckets of cold water were emptied over his devoted head. This having been done, he was dragged to his feet, thrust back into the box-room, and the door leading into the gymnasium was slammed to and locked on the inside. From first to last not a word had been spoken, and at the very commencement of the struggle Browse's spectacles had been knocked off. These two circumstances had entirely prevented him from recognizing the shadowy figures of his assailants. He made one attempt to force the door open, but finding it securely fastened, had come straight away to the captain's study.
"It's that Thurston and some of his gang," he repeated in conclusion; "they did it to pay me out for interfering with their noisy meetings."
Allingford and John Acton sprang to their feet. The idea that the rowdy element should be so powerful in Ronleigh that a Sixth Form boy could with impunity be seized and drenched with cold water, was not very pleasing to one who was largely responsible for the order of the school, and the captain's face was as black as thunder.
"All right!" he exclaimed; "leave this to me. Go and change your clothes."
The two prefects hurried down the passage.
"Wait a minute," said Allingford. "Which is Thurston's study?"
Acton knocked at the door; and receiving no answer, pushed it open and looked in. The room was empty.
"Come on," cried Allingford; "the 'gym!' They may be there still."
They rushed down the stairs, scattering a group of small boys who were roasting chestnuts at the gas-jet in the passage, and on through the box-room, but only to find the door on the other side standing wide open, and the gymnasium itself silent and deserted—two empty water-cans, lying in a big pool of wet on the cement floor, being the only remaining traces of the recent outrage.
"They're gone," said Acton. "What shall we do?"
"We'll find one of them, at all events," replied his companion; and returning once more to the neighbourhood of the studies, he shouted,—
"Thurston!"
There was a faint "Hullo!" and a moment later a door opened half-way down the passage.
"Well, what d'you want?"
Allingford walked quickly forward. "Look here," he demanded sternly, "where have you been? What have you been doing?"
"Doing!" echoed Thurston; "why, I've been sitting here for the last two hours with old Smeaton. I asked him to let me come and work in his study to-night. There's some of this Ovid I can't get on with, and he promised he'd help me out with it if I'd tell him what it was I didn't understand."
The captain hesitated a moment, rather nonplussed by this unexpected reply. "I believe you know something about this affair with Browse," he continued. "Who did it?"
"Who did what?" demanded Thurston snappishly. "If you mean when he came banging at my study door last night—"
"No, I don't mean that," interrupted Allingford. "I mean this blackguard's trick that was played on him to-night."
"I don't know what you're talking about," retorted Thurston angrily. "Look here, Allingford, I'll thank you not to call me a blackguard for nothing, for I suppose that's what you're driving at. If you don't think I'm speaking the truth, ask Smeaton. I suppose you'll take his word, if you won't take mine."
Smeaton, whose veracity it was impossible to doubt, confirmed the last speaker's assertions, and Allingford and Acton were forced to beat a retreat, feeling that they had certainly been worsted in the encounter.
"What's to be done?" asked Acton, as they re-entered the captain's study.
"I don't know," answered the other, flinging himself into a chair."The only thing I can see is to report it to the doctor."
"Oh, I shouldn't do that; it's more a piece of personal spite than any disorder and breach of rule, like that reading-room affair. I think it's a thing which ought to be put down by the fellows themselves. Who was in Thurston's study last night?"
"I don't know. It may have been those fellows Gull and Hawley, but you can't accuse them without some evidence; you see what I got just now for tackling Thurston. Ever since the elections there seem to be a lot of fellows bent on bringing the place to the dogs. Thurston's hand and glove with the whole lot of them, and it's hard to say who did this thing to Browse."
A report of what had happened was rapidly spreading all over the school. One by one the other prefects dropped in to the captain's study to talk the matter over. Most of them were inclined to agree with Acton in considering it a thing to be taken up by the boys themselves, and the discussion was continued till bedtime.
"Well, I'll tell you what I think I'd better do," said Allingford, preparing to wish his companions good-night. "I'll report it to the doctor, and ask him not to take any steps in the matter until we've had a chance of inquiring into it ourselves."
The story of Browse's mishap, as we have just said, soon passed from mouth to mouth, until it was common property throughout the college. The remarks which the news elicited were often of an entirely opposite nature, according to the character of the boys who made them. Noaks and Mouler laughed aloud, declaring it a rare good joke; but to the credit of the Ronleians of that generation be it said, the majority shook their heads, and muttered, "Beastly shame!" "What'll be done?" was the question asked on all sides. "Will it be reported to the doctor?"
"If it is," said "Rats," "we shall lose another half-holiday. Confound those fellows, whoever they are! I should like to see them all jolly well kicked."
On the following day the first assembly for morning school passed without anything happening, though every one looked rather anxiously towards the head-master's throne as Dr. Denson took his seat.
The brazen voice of the bell had just proclaimed the eleven o'clock interval, when the Triple Alliance, hurrying with their companions of the Lower Fourth along the main corridor leading to the schoolroom, found that the passage was nearly blocked by a large crowd of boys standing round the notice-board.
"Hullo!" said Diggory, "another rhyme?"
This time, however, the placard was in good plain prose, and ran as follows:—
"A meeting of the whole school will take place directly after dinner in the gymnasium. A full attendance is urgently requested, as the matter for consideration is of great importance.
"Humph," muttered Fletcher senior to himself, as he turned on his heel after reading the notice, "the fat's in the fire now, and no mistake."
The gymnasium was filled with a dense crowd of boys; "Rats," Maxton, and some other members of the Lower Fourth were fighting for seats on the parallel bars, and throughout tho whole assembly there was a subdued murmur of interest and expectation. The last gathering of the kind had been a court-martial held some two years previously on a boy suspected of stealing. Old stagers, in a patronizing manner, related what had happened to their younger comrades, adding, "What, weren't you herethen?Well, you are a kid!" and forgetting to mention that at the time they themselves were wearing knickerbockers, and doing simple arithmetic in the lowest form.
At one end of the room was a big chest containing dumb-bells and single-sticks, and Allingford, mounting on the top of this as the last stragglers from the dining-hall joined the assembly, called for silence.
There was no attempt at eloquence or self-assertion in Allingford's remarks; brief they were almost to bluntness, but well suited to the audience to whom they were addressed. It was the old, well-tried captain of Ronleigh who spoke, and the boys of Ronleigh who listened, and the manner in which the words were given and received might have reminded one of a speech of Sir Colin Campbell's in the Indian Mutiny, and the answer of the Highlanders he addressed:—
"Ninety-third, you are my own lads; I rely on you to do yourselves and me credit."
"Ay, ay, Sir Colin; ye ken us, and we ken you."
"I think you all know," began the captain, "the reason of this meeting being called together. Last night Browse was set on in this room—in the dark, mind you—knocked down, and drenched with cold water. Some fellows may think it a good joke. I don't; I think the fellows who did it were cads and cowards. I reported the matter to the doctor, and he consented to act in accordance with the wishes of the prefects, and leave the matter in the hands of the boys themselves rather than inquire into it himself, which would probably only have meant another punishment for the whole school." ("Hear, hear!")
"Now, what I want to say is this. I've been here a good many years— longer than any one, except Oaks and Rowlands and two or three more. I love the place, and I'm proud of it. I'd sooner be captain of Ronleigh than of any other public school you could mention" (cheers); "but I tell you plainly, the place is going down. There's been a good deal too much of this rowdy element showing lately, and it's high time it was put a stop to.
"Some of you, I know, have lately taken a dislike to me, and think I don't act rightly." ("No, no!") "If I'm to blame, I'm sorry for it, for I've always tried to do my best. I ask you not to look upon this matter as a personal affair, either of mine or of any of the other prefects, but to consider only the welfare of the school. I say again that if Ronleigh is to retain its reputation, and be kept from going to the dogs, it's high time these underhanded bits of foul play like the reading-room row and this attack on Browse were put a stop to; and I beg you all to join in taking measures to prevent anything of the kind occurring again in the future."
The speaker concluded his remarks amid a general outburst of applause.
"So we will," cried several voices; "three cheers for old Ally!"
"In my opinion," began Oaks, as soon as order was restored, "the first thing is to try to find out who did it; surely a fellow can't be set on by three or four others without somebody knowing something about it.— Haven't you yourself any idea who it was, Browse?"
"Well, I can't swear," answered Browse readily. "I couldn't see, because it was dark, and my spectacles were knocked off; but I'm pretty certain it was some of Thurston's lot—Gull, or Hawley, or some of those fellows. They did it because I complained when they kicked up a row and interfered with my work."
This reply created a great sensation, and the air was rent with a storm of groans, cheers, and hisses.
Oaks, who seemed to have taken upon himself the duties of counsel for the prosecution, held up his hand to procure silence.
"Shut up!" he exclaimed; "every one will be heard in time. Browse thinks it might have been Gull, Thurston, or Hawley.—Now, Gull, what have you got to say? Where were you last night?"
"In bed, asleep," answered Gull promptly.
There was a laugh.
"I don't mean that. What we want to know is, what were you doing after 'prep'?"
"Well, I was about some private business of my own."
"What was it?"
"I don't see why I should tell you all my private affairs."
"Well, in this instance we mean to know; so out with it. What were you doing directly after 'prep' last night?"
There was a hush of expectation. Every one thought an important disclosure was about to be made.
"All right," answered Gull calmly; "if you must know, I'll tell you. I was in the matron's room, getting her to sew two buttons on my waistcoat."
A roar of laughter interrupted the proceedings; the defence had scored heavily. Oaks was for the moment completely nonplussed, and Thurston seized the opportunity of making a counter-attack. He strode forward, and mounting the chest addressed the assembly as follows:—
"Gentlemen, however low Ronleigh may have sunk, there is still, I believe, left among us a certain amount of love of fair play, and therefore I ask you to give me a hearing. The saying goes, 'Give a dog a bad name and then hang him.' I'm a dog on which certain people have been good enough to bestow a bad name. I know I've got it, and to tell you the truth I don't much care. All the same, I don't see why I should be hung for a thing which is no fault of mine. You've just heard what Gull's had to say. I can prove that I was in Smeaton's study when this thing happened; and I daresay, if Hawley is to be cross-examined, he'll be able to show that he was somewhere else at the time. What I say, however, is this—that it's very unfair and unjust to practically accuse fellows of a thing without having some grounds for so doing. I don't want to brag, but there have been times, as, for instance, at the last Wraxby match" (cheers), "when the school thought well of me" (loud cheers). "Now I'm a black sheep; but there ought to be fair play for black sheep as well as for white ones." ("Hear, hear!") "Allingford said something about underhanded bits of foul play. Well, I, for one, am not afraid to be open and speak my mind. If the place is going to the dogs because of it's being continually in a state of disorder, then the fault lies with the prefects." (Sensation.) "They're the ones who ought to check it, and if they are incompetent, and can't do their duty, it's no excuse for their trying to shift the blame on to fellows who are innocent, but who happen to stand in their bad books."