At the first attempt at violence, however, Corder walked across to his Classic allies, and took up his quarters in their study, where he remained all day.

At bedtime he declined to return to his own house; particularly when a summons to that effect was sent across by Clapperton, who by this time had a very good idea of the rebel's whereabouts.

"I'm not going over," said Corder.

"But you can't stay here all night," said Denton.

"What shall you do—turn me out?" asked the fugitive.

"No. But you'd better go, and if you don't like the look of things out there, you'd better speak to Forder."

"No. I'd sooner stop," said Corder, doggedly. "I'm sorry to put you fellows about after your being so kind, but I'm not going over there."

Yorke was consulted, and took upon himself the responsibility of detaining the refugee for the night.

"All right, thanks," said Corder, and turned in.

Next morning word came from Mr Forder requiring that the truant should answer for his absence.

Corder obeyed, with some misgivings, and explained briefly that he had been bullied and did not want to stand it.

Mr Forder, who had a peculiar faculty for saddling the wrong horse, was not satisfied with this explanation, and chose to suspect some other. Corder had never been a satisfactory boy. He had probably been making himself objectionable, and had been glad of an excuse to break rules. The master did not demand particulars. He gave the culprit an imposition, and ordered him to obey the rules of his house; and another time, if he had any grievance, to come with it to him instead of taking the law into his own hands.

Whereupon Corder departed in high dudgeon.

It was no use holding out now. He had better give in, and own himself beaten. It would be so much easier than resisting any longer.

For an hour of two he was permitted to go in and out unmolested. But after morning school, he was going out to solace himself with some solitary kicks at the football, when just on the steps of the house Brinkman pounced upon him.

"I've got you now, have I, you cad?" said he. "You just come back with me."

"I won't. Let go!" cried Corder, in a temporary panic, wriggling himself away and escaping a few yards.

Brinkman, however, was quickly after him, determined this time to hold him fast. Corder, though a senior, was a small boy, and had never before thought of pitting, himself against the Modern bully.

But once already this term he had come suddenly to realise that he could do better than he gave himself credit for. And now that matters seemed desperate, when there was no escape, and his fate stared him in the face, it occurred to Corder he would show fight.

He had right on his side. He had done no harm to Brinkman or anybody else. Why shouldn't he let out, and stand up for himself?

So, to Brinkman's utter amazement, he was met by a blow and a defiant challenge to "come on."

What Brinkman might have done is doubtful, but at that moment Yorke and Ranger strolled by.

"Hullo! What's this? A fight?" said the captain.

"Rather," said Corder, now thoroughly strung up to the point. "I say, Yorke, will you stop and see fair play?"

The captain hesitated a moment. Any other fight he would have felt it his duty to stop. This fight seemed to be an exception. It would probably do more good than harm.

"Yes, if you like," said he.

"I'm not going to fight a little beggar like that," said Brinkman.

"Yes, you are," said Ranger, "and I'll see fair play for you."

"I promise you I'll make it so hot for him that he'll be sorry for it."

"I don't care," said Corder. "If you don't fight you're a coward. There!"

At this point Dangle came out.

"Here, your man wants a second," said Ranger; "you'll suit him better than I."

The usual crowd collected, minus the junior faction, who complained bitterly for a year after that they had been deliberately done out of being present by the malice of the principals. One result of their absence was that the proceedings were comparatively quiet. Every one present knew what the quarrel was, and not a few, for their own sakes, hoped Corder would make a good fight of it.

Dangle sneered at the whole thing, and counselled his man audibly not to be too hard on the little fool.

His advice was not wanted. Corder, for a fellow of his make and inexperience, exhibited good form, and persistently walked his man round the ring, dodging his blows and getting in a knock for himself every now and then. Brinkman soon dropped the disdainful style in which he commenced proceedings, and became proportionately wild and unsteady.

"Now's your chance, young 'un; he's lost his temper," whispered the captain.

Whereupon Corder, hardly knowing how he managed it, danced his man once more round and round, till he was out of breath, and then slipped in with a right, left—left, right, which, though they made up hardly one good blow among them, were so well planted, and followed one another so rapidly, that Brinkman lost his balance under them, and fell sprawling on the ground.

At the same moment Mr Stratton came up, and the crowd dispersed as if by magic.

"What is this?" said the master, appealing to the captain.

"A fight, sir," said Yorke. "A necessary one."

"Between Corder and Brinkman? Come and tell me about it, Yorke."

So while Corder, amid the jubilations of his supporters, who had grown twenty-fold since the beginning of the fight, was being escorted to his quarters, and Brinkman, crestfallen and bewildered, was being left by his disgusted backers to help himself, Yorke strolled on with Mr Stratton, and gave him, as well as he could, an account of the circumstances which for weeks had been leading up to this climax.

"I think it was as well to allow it," said the master, "but there must be no more of it. You have a hard task before you to pull things together, Yorke, but it will be work well done."

"Was it the right thing to dissolve the clubs, sir?" asked Yorke.

"At the time, yes. But watch your chance of reviving them. You must have some common interest on foot, to bring the two sides together."

The captain walked back to his house in a brown study. He had half hoped Mr Stratton might offer to interpose and restore the harmony of the School. But no, the master had left it to the captain, and Yorke's courage rose within him. God helping him, he would pull Fellsgarth together before he left.

On the Green he met Fullerton. It was long since the Modern and Classic seniors had nodded as they passed, but in the curious perversity of things both did so now.

"There's been a fight, I hear?" said Fullerton.

"Yes. Brinkman and Corder. Corder had the best of it."

"I'm jolly glad. Corder's got more pluck than you'd give him credit for."

"Yes; he's had a rough time of it in your house."

"So he has, poor beggar. It's rather humiliating to wait till he has licked his man before one takes his side; but upon my word, I'm as sick of it all as he is."

"It is rather rough on fellows who aren't allowed to do what they've a right to do," said Yorke. "I say, have you anything special on after afternoon school?"

"No, why?"

"Only that I wish you'd come and have tea with me."

Fullerton laughed.

"Bribery and corruption?" said he. "Anyhow, I'll come."



CHAPTER TWENTY.

"FAMA VOLAT."

The Modern seniors had certainly experienced a run of bad luck since the inauguration of the strike, which was to have brought their rivals down on their knees and secured for the Modern side a supremacy in Fellsgarth.

The second Rendlesham match, the defection of Corder, the mutiny of the juniors, the disbanding of the clubs, the row with the head-master, and finally, the defeat of Brinkman by his own victim, might be held to be enough to chasten their spirits, and induce them to ask themselves whether the game was worth the candle.

But, such is the infatuation of wrong-headedness, they still breathed vengeance on some one; and this time their victim was to be Rollitt.

The grudge against him had been steadily accumulating during the term. His outrage on the gentle Dangle was yet to be atoned for. His crime of playing in the fifteen was yet unappeased. His contempt of the whole crew of his enemies was not to be pardoned. Even his rescue of the lost juniors told against him, for it had helped to turn the public feeling of the School in favour of those recalcitrant young rebels. So far there had been no getting at him. He would not quarrel. He would not even recognise the existence of any one he did not care for.

But now a chance had come. The more they discussed it, the more morally certain was it that he was answerable for the disappearance of the money from the Club funds. The very reluctance of his own house to take action in the matter showed that they at least appreciated the gravity of the suspicion.

It was a trump card for the Moderns. By pushing it now, they would be doing a service to the School. They would pose as the champions of honesty. They would be mortifying the Classics, even while they pretended to assist them; and, above all, they would wipe out scores with Rollitt himself, in a way he could not well disregard.

Clapperton and Dangle were not superlatively clever boys; but, whether by chance or design, they certainly hit upon an admirable method for bringing the matter to a crisis.

Dangle took upon himself to confide his suspicions, as a dead and terrible secret, to Wilcox, a middle-boy of Forder's house, and notorious as the most prolific gossip in Fellsgarth; who, moreover, was known to have several talking acquaintances in the other houses.

Wilcox received Dangle's communication with astonishment and—oh, of course, he wouldn't breathe a word of it to any one, not for the world; it was a bad business, but it was Fisher major's business to see it put right, and so on.

That night as Wilcox and his friend Underwood were retiring to rest, the former confided to the latter, under the deadliest pledge of secrecy, that there was a scandal going on about the School accounts. He mightn't say more except that the fellow suspected was one of the last he himself should have dreamt of, although others might be less surprised.

That was not all. Next morning he sat next to Calder, a Classic boy, in Hall, and asked him if he could keep a secret. Oh yes, Calder could keep any amount of secrets. Then Wilcox told him the same story that he had confided to Underwood, only adding that the amount in question was said to be several pounds.

Calder hazarded the names of several boys; but Wilcox shrugged his shoulders at them all.

"You'd better not ask me," he said; "it will only get out and make trouble."

"Oh! but I promise I wouldn't tell a soul," said Calder.

"I can't tell you, though. But I'll tell you this. You'd never guess the fellow had had as much in his pocket all his life."

"What—do you mean Rollitt?"

"I can't tell you, I say. I'm not at liberty to mention names."

The rumour thus admirably started went on merrily.

Before nightfall it was known in half a dozen Modern studies that the Club funds had been robbed of L10 or L12 by a Classic boy, and that he was being shielded by his own seniors. On the Classic side four or five fellows whispered to one another that Rollitt had been caught in the act of stealing money out of Fisher major's rooms a day or two ago.

Presently, one enterprising gossip sent the story of Widow Wisdom's boat rolling in and out with the rumour of the stolen money. Encouraged by that, some one else hinted that there had been deficiencies last term as well as this; and in and out with the new story was started the report that last term Rollitt had set up with a fishing-tackle and book of flies worth ever so much.

A couple of days later the number of boys in the secret had multiplied fast, and Rollitt, as he walked across the Green to Hall or class, was watched and pointed out mysteriously by a score or more of curious boys.

Of course the story grew to all sorts of curious shapes. Percy (who was the first of the invalided juniors to appear in his usual haunts) had it from Rix, who had had it from Banks, who had had it from Underwood, who had had it from Wilcox, who had had it from Dangle, who had been present on the occasion, that Rollitt had met the head-master in a lane near Widow Wisdom's, and holding a pistol at his head had made him turn out all his pockets, and relieved him of fifty pounds.

Percy said he didn't believe it.

Whereupon Rix reduced the amount to thirty pounds.

Percy still could not accept the story.

Whereat Rix, anxious to meet his friend as far as possible, substituted a walking-stick for the pistol.

Still Percy's gullet could not swallow even what was left.

Whereupon Rix suggested that it was open to doubt whether it was the doctor who was robbed or Fisher major. It might have been the latter.

Still Percy looked sceptical.

Which called forth an explanation that Rix did not mean to say that Dangle actually witnessed the occurrence; but that he knew it for a fact all the same.

Percy shook his head still.

And Rix, feeling much injured, laid the scene of the outrage in Fisher's study, and conceded that the money might belong to the clubs, and might be only five pounds.

Percy had the temerity once more to express doubt. Whereupon Rix flatly declined to come down another penny in the amount, or alter his story one iota, with one possible exception; that the money may have been taken when Fisher major was not in his room.

Percy considered the anecdote had been boiled down sufficiently for human consumption, and grieved Rix prodigiously by saying that he knew all about it weeks ago, and what did he mean by coming and telling him his wretched second-hand stories?

However, whatever variations the rumour underwent as it passed from hand to hand, it managed to retain its three most salient points all through—namely, that Fisher major had been robbed; that the money taken belonged to the club; and that the suspected thief was Rollitt.

For a week or two Rollitt remained profoundly ignorant of the charges against him. His unapproachable attitude was the despair both of friend and enemy. Yorke, who would have given anything to let him have an opportunity of denying or explaining the charge, was at his wits' end how to get at him. Dangle, on the contrary, who was chiefly interested in the penalties in store for the thief, was equally at a loss how to bring him to bay.

He would see no one. He shut himself in his study and fastened the door. In class and Hall he was practically deaf and dumb; and in his solitary walks by the river it was as much as any one's comfort for the whole term was worth to accost him.

By one of those strange coincidences which often bring the most unlikely persons into sympathy, Yorke and Dangle each decided to write what they hesitated to say.

Yorke had endless difficulty over his letter. He could not bring himself to believe Rollitt a thief, yet he could not deny that suspicions existed. Still less could he evade his duty as captain to see things right. The latter duty he might have put off on Mr Wakefield or the doctor. But the mere reporting to them of the circumstances would fix the suspicions on Rollitt more pointedly than they were already, and certainly more pointedly than Yorke wished them to be.

"Dear Rollitt," he wrote, "I hope you will not resent my writing to tell you of a rumour which is afloat very injurious to you, and one which I feel quite sure you can dispose of at once. I would not write about it, only I am very anxious for the sake of everybody you should deny it, and so shut up others who would be glad enough if it were true. A sum of money, about L4 10 shillings, belonging to the Club funds has been lost from Fisher major's room. The rumour is that you have taken it, and those who accuse you make much of the coincidence that about the time when the money was said to be lost, you spent a similar sum in the purchase of a new boat for Widow Wisdom. If I didn't feel quite sure you would be able to deny the charge and explain anything about it that seems suspicious, I should not have cared to write this.

"Yours truly,—

"C. Yorke."

Dangle's letter was less ingenuous.

"The secretary of the Fellsgarth clubs has been requested to ask Rollitt the following questions in reference to a sum of about L4 10 shillings missing from the funds in the treasurer's hands.

"1. Is it true that Rollitt was seen at the door of Fisher major's room on Saturday afternoon, September 21, at a time when everybody else was absent from the house?

"2. Is it true that immediately afterwards Rollitt paid five pounds for a new boat for Widow Wisdom?

"3. Where did that money come from?

"4. Does Rollitt know that he is suspected by every boy in Fellsgarth of having stolen it; and that now that the clubs are dissolved the treasurer will be called upon to refund the money?

"5. What is Rollitt going to do? Does he deny it? If not, will he take the consequences?

"Signed for the Club Committee,—

"T. Dangle, Sec."

Fisher minor, the only boy to whom a missive to the School hermit might safely be entrusted, was on his way to Rollitt's study with the captain's note in his hand, when he was met on the stairs by Cash.

"What cheer, kid?" said the latter. "Where are you off to?"

"Taking a letter to Rollitt," said Fisher minor.

"That's just what I am, from Dangle. I say, you may as well give him the two. No answer. Ta-ta." And he thrust his missive into Fisher's hands.

It was just as easy to hand Rollitt two letters as one. So Fisher proceeded on his errand.

Rollitt was writing a letter, which he hurriedly put aside when the messenger entered.

"Get out!" he said, looking up. But when he saw who the intruder was his tone relaxed a little.

"Fisher minor? Better?"

"Yes, thanks. I had a cold, but that was all. I say, Rollitt, you were an awful brick helping us down that night."

"Nonsense!" said Rollitt, pulling out his paper and going on writing.

"Here are two letters for you," said the boy.

Rollitt motioned him gruffly to lay them down on the table and depart— which he did gladly.

Rollitt went on writing. It may be no breach of confidence if we allow the reader to glance over his shoulder.

"Dear Mother,—You ask me if I am happy, and how I like school. I am not happy, and I hate Fellsgarth. Nobody cares about me. It's no use my trying to be what I am not. I am not a gentleman, and I hope I never shall be, if the fellows here are specimens. Just because I'm poor they have nothing to do with me. I don't complain of that. I prefer it. I'd much sooner be working for my living like father than wasting my time at a place like this. If those ladies would give the money they spend on keeping me here to you and father it would do much more good. There is only one boy I care about here, and he is a little fellow who was kind to me of his own accord, and doesn't fight shy of me because I've no money and live on charity. I would ever so much rather come and live at home at the end of this term. It would be even worse at Oxford than it is here; and the ladies, if they want to be kind, will let me leave. I know you and father want me to become a grand gentleman. I would a hundred times rather be what I really am, and live at home with you.

"Your loving son,—

"Alfred."

This dismal letter concluded, the writer produced his books and began work, heedless of the two letters on his table, which lay all day where Fisher minor had deposited them.

He went in and out to class, and those who watched him saw no signs of trouble in his demeanour. In the afternoon he stole up to the river with his rod; and any one who had seen him land his three-pounder, and leave it, as he left all his fish, at Widow Wisdom's cottage, would have been puzzled by his indifferent air.

That evening, as he was about to go to bed, he discovered the letters.

Dangle's letter, which he opened first, he scarcely seemed to heed. The sight of the name at foot was sufficient. He crumpled it up and tossed it in the corner.

But Yorke's aroused him. He read it through once or twice, and his face grew grim as he did so. Presently he went to the corner and picked up Dangle's letter and once more read it. Then he crumpled up both together, and instead of going to bed sat in his chair and looked at the wall straight in front of him.

The next day those who watched him saw him go into school and out as usual, except that he seemed less listless and more observant. He glanced aside now and then at the groups of boys who stood and looked after him, and his face had a cloud on it which was almost thunderous.

"Did you give my letter to Rollitt?" said Yorke to Fisher minor.

"Yes, yesterday; and one from Dangle too," said the junior.

"Dangle!" said the captain to himself; "he'll think we are in collusion. Why ever didn't I leave it alone?"

He felt thus still more when later on in the day Dangle came over.

"I hear you have written to Rollitt for an explanation. It was about time. What does he reply?"

Yorke's back went up at the dictatorial tone of the inquiry.

"If there is anything to tell you, you will hear," said he.

"That means he hasn't replied, I suppose. I have taken care that he shall reply. I have told Forder all about it."

"You've told Forder? You cad!" exclaimed Yorke, in a tone which made Dangle thankful he was near the door.

"Yes," snarled he. "It may be your interest to shield a thief, but it's not in the interest of Fellsgarth. You won't take the matter up; Forder will. I've told him you know about it, and will give him all the particulars. Hope you'll enjoy it."

And he disappeared, only just in time for his own comfort.

Yorke's rage was unbounded. Of all the masters, Mr Forder was the one he would least have chosen to take up an affair of this kind. He was harsh, unsympathetic, hasty. And of all persons to prime the master in the circumstances of the case, Dangle was the least to be trusted.

His temptation was to go at once to Rollitt, and force the matter to a conclusion before Mr Forder had time to interfere. Things were going from bad to worse. Would they never come right again?

Next morning, before he could decide what to do, a message came from Mr Forder, requesting him and his fellow-prefects to come across to the master's room.

In no amiable frame of mind they obeyed. As they expected, Clapperton, Brinkman, Dangle, and Fullerton were also present.

"This is a most serious case," said Mr Forder. "Yorke, I understand you know more about it than any one. Will you kindly say all you know?"

"I know nothing," said the captain, "except that I believe the story is groundless."

"That is unsatisfactory. In a matter like this, there must be nothing like sheltering the wrong-doer."

"It's because we were afraid of that, sir," said Clapperton, "that we thought it right to tell you about it."

"Of course. Fisher major, perhaps you will tell us about the missing money."

Fisher major briefly related his loss and the efforts he had made to discover it.

"And what are your grounds for suspecting Rollitt?"

"I don't suspect him, sir; or rather I should not if it were not for what Dangle has said about him."

Thereupon Dangle was called upon to repeat his accusation.

"It seems to me," said the master, "we require two important witnesses to make the case clear. I believe Mrs Wisdom is in the house at present. Will you inquire, Fullerton, and if so, tell her to come here? And will you, Fisher major, fetch your brother?"

After a painful delay, in which the rival seniors sat glaring at one another, and the master made notes of the evidence so far, the two witnesses were forthcoming.

Widow Wisdom had nothing to say except in praise of Master Rollitt, and was glad enough in support of it to relate the incident of the boat, and even produce the receipt, which she carried about like a talisman in her pocket. She had no idea that her glowing testimony was to be used against her favourite, or she would have bitten off her tongue sooner than give it:

As for Fisher minor, confused and abashed in the presence of so many seniors, he blundered out his story of the eventful half-holiday, looking in vain towards his brother to ascertain if he was doing well or ill. He blabbed all he knew about Rollitt; the condition of his study, the nature of his solitary walks, the poverty of his possessions— everything that could possibly confirm the suspicions against him; and forgot to mention anything which might in the least avail on the other side.

At the close of the court-martial Mr Forder summed up.

"I am afraid it is a very clear case," said he. "It is very painful to think that a Fellsgarth boy should come to such a pass. The matter must be reported to the head-master. But before doing so it would be fair to see Rollitt, and hear what he has to say. We have no right to condemn any one unheard. If he is innocent, it will be easy for him to prove it. Fisher major, will you tell him to come?"

Fisher major reluctantly obeyed. It was nearly half an hour before he returned, and then he came alone.

"I cannot find Rollitt, sir. He is not in the house. He was absent from morning call-over. And the house-keeper says he was not in his room this morning, and that his bed was not slept in last night."



CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.

BOLTED!

However slowly the rumour of Rollitt's dishonesty had spread through the School, the news of his disappearance spread like wildfire.

Mr Forder's desire to keep the matter from being talked about was eminently futile, for Wally and Percy Wheatfield both knew all about it five minutes after Fisher major had discovered the absence of the "suspect."

By everybody except a very few infatuated persons, such as Yorke and Fisher minor, Rollitt's flight was taken as conclusive evidence of his guilt.

"If he hadn't done it, why shouldn't he stay and face it?" asked Clapperton.

"The wonder to me is," sneered Dangle, "that he brazened it out as long as he did."

"Suppose you were in his shoes," said Yorke, "suspected by every one, with the evidence black against you, and Dangle in charge of the prosecution, how would you like it?"

"If I'm in charge of the prosecution," said Dangle, colouring up, "it's because you, whose duty it was to see the matter put right, were doing all you could to shield the scoundrel."

"I did nothing because I didn't believe him guilty, and I don't yet," said the captain hotly; "and if you call him scoundrel again in my hearing, I'll knock you down."

"Keep your temper," said Dangle, glad, all the same, that there were one or two fellows between him and the captain. "You may not care about the credit of Fellsgarth. We do."

"You!" retorted Yorke, with such withering contempt that Dangle half wished he had left the matter alone.

"The thing is," said Ranger, "what is to be done!"

"Nothing," said Yorke. "Forder has gone to tell the doctor all about it. They'll take it into their own hands to hunt him down—perhaps with Dangle's assistance. All we've got to do is—"

Here Fullerton interrupted—

"—is to say all the evil we can about a fellow who is down and can't defend himself."

"What's the matter with Fullerton?" said Clapperton, with a sneer; "surely he's not become one of Rollitt's champions?"

"If it matters specially to you what I think," said Fullerton, "I don't believe a word of your precious story. First of all, Fisher major's such a fool at accounts that it's not at all certain the money is lost; secondly, Dangle is the accuser; thirdly, Rollitt is the accused; fourthly, because if a similar charge were made against me, I should certainly disappear."

"Ha, ha!" snarled Brinkman, "they've got hold of poor Fullerton, have they? I wish them joy of him."

"Thanks very much," said Fullerton; "I don't intend to desert the dear Moderns. You will have a splendid chance of taking it out of me for daring to believe somebody innocent that you think guilty. I shall be happy to see any three of you, whenever you like, I can hit out as well as young Corder, so I hope Brinkman won't come. But Dangle now, or even Clapperton, I shall be charmed to see. It's really their duty as prefects to suppress any one who dares have an opinion of his own. I simply long to be suppressed!"

This astounding revolt for the time being diverted attention from the topic of the hour. The laughter with which it was greeted by the Classics present did not tend to add to the comfort of Clapperton, Brinkman, and Dangle, who very shortly discovered that it was time to go to their own house.

"Wait for me," said Fullerton; "I'm coming too."

And, to their disgust, the rebel strolled along, with his hands in his pockets, in their company, whistling pleasantly to himself and absolutely ignoring their unfriendly attitude.

Meanwhile the question, "Where is Rollitt?" continued to exercise Fellsgarth, from the head-master down to the junior fag. Bit by bit all that could be found out about his movements came to light. His study was visited by the masters. It disclosed the usual state of grime and confusion. His fishing-rod and tackle were there. There had been no attempt to pack his few belongings, which lay scattered about in dismal disorder. The photograph of the pleasant, homely-looking woman on the mantelpiece, with the inscription below, "Alfred, from Mother," stood in its usual place. His Aristophanes lay open in the window-sill at the place for to-day's lesson. Everything betokened an abrupt and hasty departure.

Among the papers on his table was a fragment of some accounts recording the outlay of little more than a few pence a week since the beginning of the term.

When inquiry came to be made, it was found that he was last seen after afternoon class yesterday, when he unexpectedly went to the School shop and purchased from the attendant there (who had been put in charge of that establishment during the indisposition of the managing directors) half a dozen Abernethy biscuits.

The matron at Wakefield's remembered that only a day or two ago a parcel had arrived for Rollitt—another unusual circumstance—containing a ham. Of this possession no sign was now to be found in his study.

The inference from all these circumstances of course was, that however abruptly he had departed, he had not gone home, but somewhere where food would not be easy to procure in the ordinary way.

Messengers were sent to Penchurch to acquaint the police and inquire at various places on the way for news of the missing boy. But no one had seen him "out of touch" for several days—since his last fishing expedition.

His home address was of course on the School books, and thither a telegram was sent. But as the place was beyond the region of the wire, no reply came for a day, when in answer to the doctor's inquiry if the wanderer had returned home, there came an abrupt "No."

Meanwhile the doctor had had another conference with the seniors of both houses, and inquired with every sign of dissatisfaction into the merits of the suspicions which were the apparent cause of Rollitt's disappearance.

To his demand why the matter was not reported to him, Yorke replied that as far as he and Fisher major were concerned they did not suspect Rollitt, and therefore had had nothing to report. The Modern seniors, on the other hand, put in the plea that they had looked to the Classics to take the matter up, and when they declined to do so, had reported the matter to Mr Forder.

Then the doctor went into the particulars of Dangle's feud with the missing boy, much to the embarrassment of the former.

"He insulted you by turning you out of Mr Wakefield's house, you say. Why were you there?"

"I went to speak to some juniors."

"About what?"

"Clapperton wanted them—"

"No, I didn't. You went—" interrupted Clapperton.

"Silence, Clapperton. What were they wanted for, Dangle?"

"They had cheated at Elections."

"What was your object, then?"

"To punish them."

"Are you not aware that the captain of the School is the only prefect who is allowed to punish?"

"Yes, sir, but—"

"Well?"

"We were not sure that their own prefects were going to take any notice of it."

"I caned all four of them for it, and you saw me do it," said Yorke.

"Humph. And as to Rollitt, how came he to be present?" asked the doctor.

"He came in."

"What were you doing when he came in?"

"There was a scuffle."

"You were striking those boys? What did Rollitt do? Did he strike you?"

"No, sir."

"What then?"

"He—he," said Dangle, flushing up to be obliged to record the fact in the presence of the other seniors, "he dragged me across the Green."

"Then you say he attacked you on another occasion on the football field?"

And Dangle had to stand an uncomfortable cross-examination on this incident too.

"What had it all got to do with Rollitt?" asked every one of himself.

"I ask you all these questions, Dangle," said the doctor, when he had brought this chapter of history up to date, "because it seems to me you are Rollitt's chief accuser in this matter. I wish I were able to feel that you were not personally interested in your charges proving to be true. That, of course, does not affect the case, as far as Rollitt is concerned. The evidence against him is merely conjecture, so far."

"But I met him at Fisher's door that afternoon," said Dangle, determined to make the most of his strong points.

"Why," said Fisher, "you told me you didn't know which my door was, when you first spoke about it."

"I found out since, and it was the same door."

"Was he coming out of the room or going in!"

"Coming out."

"You are sure of that?"

"Yes, I remember because the door nearly struck me as he opened it."

"However could it do that!" exclaimed Fisher. "My door opens inwards!"

Dangle coloured up with confusion and stammered—

"I—I thought it—I suppose I was wrong."

"I think so," said the doctor frigidly. "Thank you, boys, I needn't keep you longer at present."

"You idiot!" said Clapperton, as he and the discomfited Dangle walked back to Forder's. "You've made a precious mess of it, and made the whole house ridiculous. Why couldn't you let it alone? You've mulled everything you've put your finger into this term."

"Look here, Clapperton," said Dangle, in a white heat, "I've stood a lot from you this term—a jolly lot. I've done your dirty work, and—"

"What do you mean? What dirty work have I asked you to do?"

"Plenty that you've not had the pluck to do yourself."

"I dare you to repeat it, you liar!"

"You shall do your own in future, I know that."

"Dangle, hold your tongue, you cad!"

"I shall do nothing of the kind, you snob!"

Whereupon ensued the most wonderful spectacle of the half, a fight between Clapperton and Dangle. It was nearly dark, and no one was about, and history does not record how it ended. But in Hall that night both appeared with visages suspiciously marred, and it was noted by many an observant eye that diplomatic relations between the two were suspended.

But while old friends had thus been falling out on Rollitt's account, old enemies had on the same grounds been making it up.

The juniors having recovered of their colds, and finding themselves once more in the full possession of their appetite, their liberty, and their spirits, celebrated their convalescence by a general melee in Percy's room, under the specious pretext of a committee meeting of the shop- directors. This business function being satisfactorily concluded, they turned their attention to the condition of things in general.

That Fellsgarth should have got itself into a regular mess during their enforced retirement caused them no surprise. What else could any one expect?

But that any one should dare to suspect and make things hot for a fellow without consulting them, caused them both pain and astonishment. It quite slipped their memories that not long since some of them had been glad enough to listen to disparaging talk about the School hermit. That was a detail. On the whole they had stuck to him, and they meant to stick to him now!

Many things were in his favour. He had won a goal for the School. He had dispensed with his right to a fag, and had let the juniors of all grades generally alone. He was on nodding terms with Fisher minor, one of their lot. He had come up Hawk's Pike at much personal inconvenience to look for them. And he had been a customer to the extent of six Abernethys at the School shop.

For all these reasons (which were quite apart from party considerations) it was decided nem. con. that Rollitt was a "good old sort" and must be stuck by.

Whereupon the nine of them sallied out arm in arm across the Green, on the look-out for some one who might hold a contrary opinion.

After some search they found a Modern middle-boy, who, catching sight of Fisher minor, shouted, "How now! Who nobbled the Club money?" which made Fisher minor suddenly detach himself from his company, and shouting, "That's him!" start in pursuit. What a bull-dog it was getting, to be sure!

The whole party joined in the hue-and-cry, and might have run the fugitive down, had not the head-master stalked across the Green at that moment on his way to Mr Wakefield's.

At sight of him they pulled up short, looked unutterably amiable, doffed their caps, and made as though they were merely out to take the air on this beautiful November afternoon.

To Fisher minor the interruption was a sad one. That fellow was the borrower of his half-crown; for weeks he had lost sight of him. Now, suddenly, chance had seemed to bring both man and money within reach, when, alas! the Harpy swooped down and took off the prize from under his very nose.

The doctor having passed, they continued their search for any one who had a bad word to say for Rollitt.

But as it was nearly dark, and rain was falling, the craven maligners kept indoors, and would not be caught.

So the juniors relieved themselves by giving three cheers for Rollitt under every window round the Green, and then fell to abusing Fisher minor because his brother, Fisher major, had lost the money which Rollitt was said to have stolen.

"There's no doubt that kid's at the bottom of it," said Percy. "First of all, he's a Classic cad."

Here the speaker was obliged to pause, on a friendly admonition from the boot of his brother Wally.

"He's a Classic kid," continued he.

"You said cad."

"I said cad? do you hear that, you chaps? Thinks I don't know how to spell."

"You said he was a Classic cad."

"There you are; you've said it now. Kick him, you chaps. How dare he say he's a Classic cad?" said Percy.

This verbal squabble being settled at last, Percy proceeded to explain Fisher minor's position.

"If he hadn't come to Fellsgarth, Rollitt would have been smashed to bits over the falls. And if Rollitt had been smashed to bits—"

"He couldn't have bought six Abernethys at the shop," suggested D'Arcy.

"Right you are! And what's more, he couldn't have eaten them if he had, and he couldn't have run away. There you are, I said this kid was at the bottom of it."

"But who'd have collared the money in that case?" asked Ashby.

Percy reflected. This was a decided point.

"Well, you see," said he, "it's this way. If young Fisher minor hadn't been born, he wouldn't have had a governor and a mater, and if he hadn't had a governor and a mater, no more would Fisher major. And if Fisher major hadn't had a governor and a mater he'd never have been elected treasurer, and if he'd not been elected treasurer he wouldn't have lost the money. So you see the young un's at the bottom of it again."

"I know a shorter way than that," said D'Arcy. "If young Fisher minor hadn't fetched Rollitt up to vote that day, Fisher major wouldn't have been elected, and then he couldn't have lost the money."

"Isn't that what I said?" said Percy, indignant to be thus summarily paraphrased.

"Are you going to lick me for being born?" inquired Fisher minor.

"Good mind to. It's all your fault good old Rollitt's gone."

"Those six Abernethys won't last him long," suggested Cash.

"No. We must keep a stock of them now, and call them 'Rollitt's particular.' I fancy they might fetch three-halfpence each."

"I say," said Wally, "I vote we find Rollitt. He's not a bad sort, you know."

"All very well," said Percy, "if one only knew where to look."

"It's my notion he's either gone home or to the top of Hawk's Pike. I don't well see where else he could be."

"London?" suggested Cottle.

"Not got the money."

"Walked there?"

"Not got the boots."

"He can't be hanging about near here. Everybody knows him. No; you bet he's gone to the top of Hawk's Pike, and he's going to stay there till the clouds roll by."

This brought up a painful reminiscence. None of the party, except Wally, exactly favoured the idea of another attempt on the great mountain.

"Tell you what," said Percy, "those biscuits will last him over to- night. We'll see if there's any news of him in the morning, and if not we'll organise an expedition to find him. I say, let's go and have another shop committee somewhere."

"Where?"

"Suppose we have it in Rollitt's study. He was a jolly good sort, you know. It would please him."

The logic of this proposition did not detain the meeting.

They decided to go in the usual way. That is, the four Classic boys boldly marched into their house together, and the five Moderns dropped in one by one artlessly and quite by accident.

As Fisher minor passed his brother's door he thought he would just look in. At the same moment the house matron, with a very important face, was bounding into the room.

"Master Fisher," said she, "Mrs Wisdom's just sent back that flannel shirt of yours."

"Oh! At last. She's only had it six weeks. About long enough," said Fisher major. "I'd given it up for lost."

"It got left at the bottom of the bag, and she never noticed it till last night. And what do you think, Master Fisher! there was this in the breast pocket." And she handed him a little brown paper parcel.

Fisher major snatched at it with an ejaculation more like horror than anything else, and tore the paper open.

Four sovereigns and some silver dropped on to the table.

"Why," gasped he, "that's it! I remember now. I got it on the field just before the Rendlesham match, and stuck it in that pocket, and it went clean out of my head. Oh, my word, what have I done? What an awful mess I've made!"

Not even Fisher minor stayed to dispute this statement, but hurried off with the great news to the shop committee next door.



CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.

COMING TO.

Fisher major's discovery put the finishing touch to the discomfiture of the Modern seniors.

And the manner in which they came by the news of it by no means tended to salve the wound which it inflicted.

The shop committee was so convulsed by the intelligence which Fisher minor brought, that they then and there promised themselves the pleasure of conveying the good news to Rollitt's accusers in person. They accordingly adjourned in a body to the Modern side.

"Won't Clapperton grin!" said Percy. "I say, you chaps, we may as well let him have it one at a time. Then he'll hear it nine times over, do you see? I'll go first."

The idea seemed a good one, but risky. Cottle calculated that after about the fourth time Clapperton would be a little riled. He therefore modestly proposed to follow Percy. Cash and Lickford competed smartly for the third place, the former being successful. Ramshaw, having to come fifth, had decided misgivings as to the fun of the thing; while the Classic juniors declined to play unless all the others remained on the spot ready to back up in case of emergency.

It was also decided that, for precautionary reasons, the key of Clapperton's door should be removed for the time being, lest he should try to lock the good news out; and that an interval of two minutes should be allowed to elapse between each messenger's announcement.

Little dreaming of the exquisite torture being prepared for him, Clapperton sat in his study engaged in the farce of preparation.

He had plenty to think of besides lessons. Things had all gone wrong with him. Dangle and he had fought. Brinkman, after his thrashing by Corder, no longer counted. Fullerton had rebelled, and was taking boys over every day to the enemy. Corder had successfully defied his— Clapperton's—authority, and the juniors snapped their fingers at him.

And yet Clapperton had come up this term determined to lay himself out for his side, and be the most popular prefect in Fellsgarth!

His one comfort was that the Classics were under a cloud too. One of their number was a runaway thief; and a stigma rested on their side worse than any that attached to the Moderns.

He was trying to make the most of this questionable consolation when the door opened, and Percy bounced in.

"I say, Clapperton; Fisher's found the money. Rollitt's not a thief. Ain't you glad? Hurray!"

And, without waiting, he retired as suddenly as he had come.

Clapperton gaped at the door by which he had gone in amazement. He had never calculated on this. This was the worst thing yet. It showed Yorke had been right, and that he and Dangle—

The door opened again, and Cottle ran in. "Hurray, Clapperton! The money's found. Rollitt's no thief. Ain't you glad?" And he, too, vanished.

There must be something in it. What a fool he would look to all Fellsgarth! Perhaps it was only a plot, though, to shield Rollitt. Perhaps—

The door once more swung open, and in jumped Cash.

"Clapperton, I say—Hooray! That money's been found. Rollitt's no thief. Ain't you glad?"

Hullo! At this rate he would get to know the news. How they would crow on the other side! He wondered if Fisher major had done it on purp—

Again there was a scuffle of feet at the door, and Lickford stepped in.

"Oh! Clapperton," he said. "Hooray, Clapperton! The money's turned up, and Rollitt's no thief. Ain't you glad?—and, oh, I say, Clapperton—hooray!"

"Come here," said Clapperton, sternly.

But, oh dear no; Lickford was pressed, and couldn't stay.

"The young asses!" growled Clapperton. "Why can't they keep their precious news to themselves? If they'd tried, they couldn't have made bigger nuisances of themselves. I suppose, now, Yorke will—"

The door swung open again, and Ramshaw, hanging on to the handle, swung in with it.

"Hooray, Clapperton! Rollitt's no thief. That money's turned up. Ain't you glad? I am—good evening."

This final greeting was cut short by a ruler which Clapperton sent flying at the messenger's head. Ramshaw dodged in time, and the ruler flew out into the passage, where it was promptly captured by Fisher minor, whose turn came next.

"Thank goodness that's the end of the young cads!" growled Clapperton. "They've done it on purpose; and I'll pay them out for it. That ass, Fisher major, he's bound to—"

Here there came a modest tap at the door, and Fisher minor peeped in, apologetically.

"Well, what do you want? You've no business on this side; go to your own house."

"All right, Clapperton," said Fisher, speaking with unwonted rapidity. "I only thought you'd like to know my brother's found the money. Hurray! Rollitt's no thief; ain't you glad?—Yeow!"

This last exclamation was in response to a grab from the enraged Clapperton, which, though it failed to catch the messenger, clawed his face.

"I've had enough of this," said the senior. "I don't care—. Hullo! where's my key?"

The key was not to be seen. He looked out into the passage; it was not there. No one else was in sight.

He returned viciously to his seat at the table, and began to read again.

The door had opened, and Ashby, on tip-toe, was in the room before the senior noticed the fresh intrusion.

"Rollitt's no thief; ain't you glad? The money's found. Hurray, Clapperton!—done it!" exclaimed Ashby, all in one breath, dancing out of the room in conscious pride at his exploit.

"All very well," said D'Arcy, whose turn came next; "how am I to do it?"

"No shirking," said Wally; "I come after you."

"Look here," said D'Arcy; "if you chaps give me a leg-up, I'll let him have it through his window. I can reach round from this passage window to his if you hang on to my legs."

"Good dodge," said Wally, admiringly, "but we'd better turn the key on the door first. If he came out and spotted us holding you, we might have to drop you."

So the key was quietly put in the lock and turned; and D'Arcy, firmly held by the heels, wriggled himself out of the window, and, with the aid of a pipe, pulled himself up, with his face to the window of Clapperton's study.

That worthy was beginning to congratulate himself that he would be spared a further repetition of the uncomfortable news that night, when a sudden, loud voice at one of the open lattice panes almost startled him out of his skin.

"Oh, Clapperton! Ain't you glad? Rollitt's no thief. The money's found. Good evening—have you used our soap? Haul in, you chaps! Sharp!"

The persecuted senior, after the first surprise, made a frantic rush, first at the window, and then, finding the bird flown, at the door. The latter was locked. He could hear a scuffling and scrambling in the lobby outside, followed by a stampede; after which dead silence prevailed, save for the vicious kicking of the imprisoned hero at his own door.

"Whew!" said Wally, fanning himself when the juniors were safe back in Percy's study. "That was a squeak, if you like. How on earth am I to do it?"

"Better let him off," suggested some one.

Wally resented the suggestion as an insult.

"Not likely," said he. "I'll do it. I don't care, if you all back up."

And in a minute, when the sound of the kicking had ceased, and Clapperton had apparently retired once more to his work, he crept out into the lobby, followed stealthily by the whole band.

As they passed the head of the stairs, whose voice should they hear below, inquiring of a middle-boy if Clapperton was in the house, but the doctor's?

"Yes, sir; shall I tell him you want him?" said the boy.

"No, I'll go up to his room," said the head-master.

"Whew!" said Wally, "what a go! and the door's locked on the outside!"

"I'll go and turn it quietly," said Percy, "if you back up in case he flies out."

But the precaution was not needed. Percy, who luckily had just taken off his boots, slipped up silently to the door, and the others from their lurking-place saw him quietly turn the key and then walk back, evidently unheard by the prisoner within.

He passed the stair-head just before the doctor came up, and to their great relief ran into the arms of his friends unchallenged.

The doctor, indeed, was too pre-occupied to dream that, as he went to Clapperton's study, nine small heads were craning out of a door at the end of the passage, watching his every step.

"I say," whispered Ashby, in tones of horror, "suppose Clap thinks it's one of us, and goes for him!"

"My eye, what a go!" ejaculated Cash.

They saw the stately figure stand a moment at the door and turn the handle.

Next moment he reeled back with an exclamation of amazement, nearly felled to the ground by a bulky dictionary hurled at his head!

The nine lurkers fairly embraced one another in horror at the sight of this awful outrage; and when, a moment after, they saw the doctor gather himself together and return to the charge, this time closing the door behind him, they did not envy the unlucky Clapperton the awkward five minutes in store for him.

How the two arranged matters no one could say. But as no sounds of violence issued, and the doctor did not summon any one to fetch his cane, they concluded Clapperton had offered a sufficiently humble apology for his mistake.

"Hold on, now," said Wally, after three minutes had passed; "I'll try it now—it's my only chance. You Classic kids be ready to cut home with me as soon as I come back."

So, starting at a run like one who had come a long distance and expected to find the senior alone, he dashed unceremoniously into Clapperton's study, of course not appearing to notice the distinguished company present, crying—

"I say, Clapperton. Hooray! The money's found. Rollitt's no thief. Ain't you glad! Oh, the doctor! I beg your pardon, sir."

The next moment he, D'Arcy, Ashby, and Fisher minor were descending the stairs three steps at a time on the way back to Mr Wakefield's as fast as their legs would carry them, and with all the righteous satisfaction of men who had done their duty at all costs.

"I reckon," said Wally, "he pretty well knows about it now—and if he don't, the doctor will rub it in."

The unfortunate Clapperton, indeed, required no one to "rub in" the fact that he had made a mess of things.

The doctor did not attempt to do it. He merely carried the news of the finding of the money, and desired Clapperton, as the head of the house, to make it known as widely as possible.

"I say nothing now of the cruel wrong which has been inflicted by hasty suspicion on Rollitt. That shadow is still on the School. But the worst shadow, that a Fellsgarth boy was a thief, is happily removed, and I wish every boy in this house to hear of it at the earliest possible moment."

And the doctor went, leaving Clapperton to gulp down the bitter pill as best he could.

Why should he have the job to do? He had not been the first to start the suspicions. Dangle had done that—Dangle, with whom he had fought. Why should not Dangle be called upon to put it right? Unluckily, Dangle was not the captain of Forder's. He was not as responsible in starting the rumour as Clapperton, in his position, had been in adopting it.

It was more than he could bring himself to, to summon the house and announce the news publicly. If Dangle and Brinkman had been with him still, the three of them together might have brazened it out. But his colleagues were sulking in their own quarters, and whatever had to be done must be done singlehanded.

He therefore sat down in no very happy frame of mind and wrote out the following curt notice for the house-boards.—

"Notice.

"The head-master wishes it to be known that the Club money supposed to be missing has been found by the treasurer.

"Geo. Clapperton."

This ungracious document he copied out three times, and taking advantage of every one being in his study for preparation, affixed with his own hand on the notice boards at the house-door and on each landing.

"There!" said he, with a sneer of disgust, as he returned to his own room, "let them make the most of that."

An hour later the dormitory bell sounded, and he could hear the scuffling of feet on the lobby outside, and the clamour of voices as boys hustled one another in front of the boards. Evidently the majority regarded the announcement in a jocular manner; and when a distant shout of laughter came up from the passage below, and down from the landing above, it was clear that Forders did not take the matter very much to heart.

"It was ridiculous, when you come to think of it," soliloquised Clapperton, "that a blundering ass like Fisher major should have brought the School into such a precious mess."

The noise gradually died away as fellows one by one dropped of to bed.

Clapperton waited till they were gone before he followed. As he passed the notice board he glanced at the document which had lately cost him so much pain. It was still there; but not as he left it. A sentence had been squeezed in between his own words and his signature at the bottom of the sheet, which, as it was a fair imitation of his back-sloped handwriting, had all the appearance of forming part of his manifesto. Clapperton gasped with fury as he read the amended notice:—

"Notice.

"The head-master wishes it to be known that, the Club money supposed to be missing has been found by the treasurer, and that I am a beast and a sneak to have accused Rollitt of stealing it.

"Geo. Clapperton."

He tore the paper from the board, and stamped on it in his rage. Then he went downstairs to look at the notice on the school-door. It read precisely like the other, the imitation being perhaps better. He stayed only to tear this down, and proceeded to the other landing, where the same insult confronted him.

Who the author might be he was free to guess.

As he lay awake that night, tossing and turning, he racked his brain to devise some retribution.

And yet, his more sensible self told him, hadn't he been leading up to this all the term? What had he done to make the fellows respect, much more like, him? He had bullied, and swaggered, and set himself against the good of the School. The fellows who followed him only did so in the hope of getting something—either fun or advantage—out of the agitation. They didn't care twopence about Clapperton, and were ready enough to drop him as soon as ever it suited their turn. The one or two things he could do well, and for which anybody respected him—as, for instance, football—he had deliberately shut himself off from, leaving his authority to depend only on the very qualities he had least cause to be proud of.

It was easy enough to say that Brinkman and Dangle cut even a poorer figure over this wretched business than he. But who troubled their heads about Brinkman and Dangle? The former had already been snuffed out hopelessly, and dared not show his face. Dangle, as everybody knew, had a personal grudge against Rollitt, and was unhampered by scruples as to how he scored. But he—Clapperton—he had always tried to pose as a decent sort of fellow, with some kind of interest in the good of the School and some sort of notion about common honour and decency. Ugh! this was what had come of it! As he lay awake that night, the sound of the laughter round the notice boards and the "Ain't you glad?" of the juniors dinned in his ears, sometimes infuriating, sometimes humiliating him; but in either case mockingly reminding him that Clapperton's greatest enemy in Fellsgarth was the captain of the Modern side.

Next morning brought no news of the missing boy, and a vague feeling of anxiety spread through the School. Boys remembered how proud and sensitive Rollitt had been, and how dreadful was the accusation against him. Suppose he had done something desperate? He had cared little enough for danger when all went well. Would he be likely to care more, now that the School was in league against him, pointing to him as a thief, and hounding him out of its society?

All sorts of dreadful possibilities occurred both to masters and boys; and all the while a feeling of fierce resentment was growing against the fellows whose accusations had been the cause of all the mischief.

Dangle, as he crossed the Green to class, was hooted all the way. Brinkman was followed about with derisive cheers, and cries of "Look out! Corder's coming"; and Clapperton, when he appeared, was silently cut. Fellows went out of the way to avoid him; and the chair on either side of him was left vacant in Hall.

"Did you hear," said Ramshaw to his neighbour at the prefects' table at dinner-time, "that they've begun to drag the lake to-day?"

A grim silence greeted the question. Fellows tried to go on with their meal. But somehow Ramshaw had destroyed every one's appetite.

"Nonsense!" said Yorke. "He took food with him. You forget that."

"That looks as if he'd gone off the beaten track somewhere," said Fullerton.

"It does—and Hawk's Pike is as likely a place as any other," said Yorke.

"Whew! there was frost on it the other night," some one said. "I wish the doctor would let us go out and look for him. We've a much better chance of finding him than police and guides."

Here the signal was given to rise, and every one dispersed. Yorke stayed—one of the last. As he went out he caught sight of a solitary figure walking moodily ahead, with hands dug in pockets and head down, the picture of dejection.

Yorke could hardly recognise in this back view his old rival and enemy, Clapperton. Yet he it was. A few weeks ago, and he always marched to and from his house in the boisterous company of friends and admirers. Now he was left alone.

A flush of something like shame mounted to the captain's cheeks. He had no love for this fellow. He owed him little gratitude. And yet the sight of him thus solitary, cut off from the stream, stirred him.

Did he not try, in his humble way, to follow in the footsteps of One Who said, "Love your enemies, do good to them that hate you"? And was not this an opportunity for putting that faith of his to the test of practice?

He quickened his pace, and overtook Clapperton. The Modern senior wheeled round half-savagely.

"Clapperton," said the captain, "we've been enemies all this term. I've thought harshly of you, and you've thought harshly of me. Why shouldn't we be friends?"

"What!" almost growled Clapperton; "are you making a fool of me?"

"No—but we've tried hating one another long enough. Let's try being friends for a change."

They stood facing one another; the one serene, honest, inviting; the other dejected and doubting. But as their eyes met the fires kindled again in Clapperton's face, and the cloud swept off his brow. He pulled his hand from his pocket and held it out.

"Done with you, Yorke. You're the last fellow in Fellsgarth I expected to call friend just now."



CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.

THE VOYAGE OF THE COCK-HOUSE.

Yorke was roused before daybreak next morning by a voice at his bedside.

"Is that you, Yorke?"

The voice was Mr Stratton's. The captain bounded to his feet at once.

"What is it, sir? Has he been found?"

"No," said the master; "no news. Every place has been searched where he would be likely to be, except the mountain. It seems a very off-chance that he has gone up there; still, it is possible. He has been on it once or twice before. I am going there now. Would you care to come too?"

The captain gratefully acquiesced. For a week he had been chafing at the doctor's orders that no boy should go beyond the bounds. His request to be allowed to undertake this very expedition had been twice refused already.

"The doctor has given you an exeat if you wish to go," said Mr Stratton. "We are to take a guide, and it is quite understood we may be late in getting back. I shall be glad of your company."

Yorke was ready in ten minutes—thankful at last to be allowed to do something, yet secretly doubting if anything would come of this forlorn quest.

Apart from Rollitt, however, good did come of it to Fellsgarth. For during the long walk master and boy got to understand one another better than ever before. With a common ambition for the welfare of the School, and a common trouble at the dissensions which had split it up during the present term, they also discovered a common hope for better times ahead.

They discussed all sorts of plans, and exchanged confidences about all sorts of difficulties. And all the while they felt drawn close to one another, exchanging the ordinary relations of master and boy for those of friend and friend.

Some of my readers may say that Mr Stratton must have been a very foolish master to give himself away to a boy, or that Yorke must have been a very presuming boy to talk so familiarly to a master. Who cares what they were, if they and Fellsgarth were the better for that morning's walk?

"In many ways," said Mr Stratton, "a head boy has as much responsibility for the good of a school as a head-master—always more than an assistant master. You could wreck the School in a week if you chose; and it is in your hands to pull it together more than any of us masters, however much we should like to do it. And you'll do it, old fellow!"

And so they turned up the lane that led round to the back of the mountain.

The news that Mr Stratton and the captain had gone up Hawk's Pike to look for Rollitt soon spread through Fellsgarth that morning. The souls of our friends the juniors were seriously stirred by it.

Their promise—or shall we say threat?—to organise a search-party up the mountain on their own account had been lost sight of somewhat in the exciting distractions of the last twenty-four hours; but now that they found the ground cut from under their feet they were very indignant. Secretly, no doubt, they were a little relieved to find that they had been forestalled in the perilous venture of a winter ascent of the formidable pike they had such good cause to remember.

It was a mean trick of Yorke's to "chowse" them out of the credit, they protested. Now he would get all the glory, and they would get none.

"I tell you what," said Percy. "It's my notion Rollitt's not gone up the mountain at all. It's just a dodge of those two to get a jolly good spree for themselves. Pooh! They'll get lost. We shall have to go and look for them, most likely."

"And then," said Lickford, "somebody will have to come and look for us."

"And Rollitt's not here to do it," said Fisher minor.

This cast the company back on to their original subject.

"It's my notion," said Wally, "he's got on the island in the middle of the lake, like Robinson Crusoe."

"Rather a lark," said Ashby, "to get up a search-party and go and look for him there."

The idea took wonderfully. To-day was "Founder's Day," a whole holiday. They would certainly go and look for Rollitt on the island.

The preparations disclosed an odd conception on the part of the explorers of the serious nature of their quest. Their stated object was to rescue a lost schoolfellow. Why, therefore, did they decide to take nine pennyworth of brandy-balls, a football, a pair of boxing-gloves, and other articles of luxury not usually held to be necessary to the equipment of a relief expedition?

As regards food, they possessed too keen a recollection of the straits they had been put to up the mountain a few weeks ago to neglect that important consideration now.

Naturally, ham and Abernethys were the victuals selected. Had not Rollitt made these classical as the staff of life during voluntary exile from school?

They were compelled to put up with a very small sample of the former. Lickford had been bequeathed a bone by his senior yesterday, to which adhered a few fragments of a once small ham. Possibly it might, with careful carving, furnish nine small slices.

It was better than nothing. They would make up for its deficiency by a double lot of Abernethys.

So they trooped off to the shop.

According to their own rules, this establishment was only open between 11 and 12 in the morning, and not at all on holidays.

But another rule said that the committee might in certain cases suspend or alter the rules.

Whereupon Percy moved, and Ashby seconded, the following resolution: "That this shop be, and is, hereby opened for the space of five minutes." The motion was carried unanimously.

D'Arcy and Cottle, whose turn it was to be on duty, solemnly took down the shutters, and ranged themselves behind the counter.

"What can I do for you, my little dears?" said the former, encouragingly. "Money down. No tick. Try some of our Rollitt's particular—three-halfpence each."

"No, they're not, you cheat!—they're a penny. We'd better have two each," said Wally.

"Hullo! I say," exclaimed D'Arcy. "Look here, you fellows."

He pointed to the heap of Abernethy biscuits, on the top of which lay a sixpence.

"That's what you call looking after the money," said Wally. "Left that there all night."

"No—not a bit of it. But I tell you what," said D'Arcy, who had rapidly been counting the pile of biscuits; "there were twenty-four biscuits there when we left last night. I'm certain of it; weren't there, young Cottle?"

"Yes. I remember that," testified Cottle.

"Very well; then some one's been here in the night, for there are only eighteen biscuits now, and this sixpence."

"Perhaps Yorke got some before he started?"

"How could he? No one can get in here without the latch-key; and only the two chaps who are on duty keep that."

"Perhaps it's the owls in the belfry?"

"They don't generally pay ready money for what they take."

"I say!" exclaimed Wally; "I expect it's Rollitt. He'd have finished his others by this time, and he sneaked back in the night for some more. Good old Rollitt!"

Wally did not stay to explain how Rollitt could have got in any more than any one else. His suggestion made a deep impression. It touched them to feel that, amid all his distresses, Rollitt was loyal to the School shop; and if anything was needed to spur them on to his rescue, this did it.

They bought up the remaining eighteen biscuits between them, and sallied forth.

"You see," said Wally, "it's much more likely to be the island than the mountain. There's water there, for one thing."

"There's water on the mountain," said Ashby; "plenty."

"But not good to drink, you ass!" argued Wally.

"And there's that old broken boat-house to live in, and lots of wood to make fires, and ducks to bag and fish to catch. I say! I expect he's having rather a lark."

The prospect of sharing in his wild sports urged them on still faster.

At the lake-side a new problem arose. If Rollitt was on the island, how had he got there? And, still more important, how were they to get there? Widow Wisdom's boat had already been laid up for the winter; and the few others, which in the summer were generally kept at the river- mouth for the use of the boys, had been taken back to Penchurch. The only craft available was a flat-bottomed punt used by fishermen, and at present moored to a stake at the river-bank. It was capacious, certainly, but not exactly the sort of boat in which to get up much pace, particularly as its sole apparent mode of propulsion was by means of two very long boat-hooks, one on either side. These details, however, presented few obstacles to the minds of the enterprising explorers. The punt was in many ways adapted for a voyage such as they proposed to take. There was room to walk about in it. Nay, who should say the boxing-gloves and football might not have scope for themselves within its ample lines?

The one question was whether the boat-hooks were long enough to touch bottom all the way from the shore to the island. Wally paced one, and found it measured eighteen feet.

"Ought to do," said he; "it's bound not to be deeper than that."

So the punt, which was christened the "Cock-house" for the occasion, was loosed from her moorings, the Abernethys and knuckle-bone and other stores were put on board, the boat-hooks, by a combined effort, were got into position, and the party embarked for the rescue of Rollitt.

Thanks to the stream, their progress at first was satisfactory. They were delighted to find how easily they went. Wally with one boat-book on one side, and Percy with the other on the other side, had comparatively little to do except to prevent their hooks getting stuck in the mud at the bottom, and refusing to come out. Any one watching them would have said these boys had been born in a barge. They carried their long poles to the prow, and plunged them in there with a mighty splash. Then they shoved away, till the end of the poles came within reach of their hands. Then, in perfect step and time, they started to march, each down his own side of the boat, calling on their friends and admirers to get out of the way. Then, as they neared the stern, and the prospect of pulling up their hooks and returning fora'd for another "punt" loomed ahead, their faces grew anxious and concerned. They began to hold on "hard all," a yard from the end of the walk, and tug frantically to get themselves free. Sometimes the hook came out easily, in which case they fell backwards into the arms of their friends. At other times it stuck, and they had to detain the progress of the boat a minute or more to get it out. And sometimes it all but escaped them, and continued sticking up out of the water while the barge itself floated on. Happily, the last tragedy never quite came off, although it was periodically imminent.

When, however, the stream opened into the lake, the progress became much less exciting. The water was a little lumpy, and had a tendency, while they were walking back at the end of one punt in order to start another, of jumping the "Cock-House" back into precisely the same position from which she had lately started.

After about half an hour's fruitless efforts the twins were seized with a generous desire not to monopolise the whole of the fun of the voyage.

"Like to have a go!" said Wally to D'Arcy.

"You may have a turn if you like, Lick," said Percy.

Whereupon D'Arcy and Lickford took up the rowing for the "Cock-House," greatly assisted and enlivened in their operations by the advice and encouragement of the late navigators.

"Two to one on Lick," cried Wally, as the two started their mad career down the boat. "Look out! he's gaining."

"You've made her go an inch and a half," said Percy.

"Hang on tight now, and pull it up," said Wally, as Lickford, red in the face with excitement, was straining himself to release the hook from the mud.

"Keep her trim," said Percy, laying hold of D'Arcy's feet, as the latter was gradually letting himself be hauled out of the boat by his refractory pole.

In due time D'Arcy and Lickford unselfishly gave up the poles to Cottle and Ashby; and they, after a reasonable season of struggle and peril, nobly ceded them to Ramshaw and Cash, Fisher minor waiving his claim, and electing to sit "odd man out" and steer.

As at the end of an hour and a half's manful shoving the net progress made was a yard back into the stream of the river, the talents of the helmsman were not put to a very severe test.

"I say, it's rather slow," said Wally; "let's have some of Rollitt's particular."

So while Percy with a small pair of scissors—none of the party, marvellous to relate, had brought a knife—was carving the remnant of ham, and Ashby was counting out nine brandy-balls from the bag, each member of the party produced one of his Abernethys, and fell-to with all the appetite that waits on hard and honest toil.

"Not much of a pace yet," remarked D'Arcy. "Why, we're going better now we've stopped rowing than we were before."

"That's because the wind's changed," said Wally. "If we'd only got a sail we could make her go."

"Why not stick up the two poles, and fasten our coats or something between for a sail!" suggested Percy.

"Good idea! the poles are long enough for all the nine. One of 'em can go through right sleeves, and the other through left. It'll make a ripping sail."

So, despite the season of the year, the nine voyagers divested themselves of their coats, which were industriously threaded by the sleeves on either pole. The top coat was spiked by the hooks, and those below were ingeniously buttoned one to the other to keep them up.

Every one agreed it made a ripping sail. The difficulty was to hoist it. There were no holes in which to fix the parallel masts. They would have to be held in position, as the breeze was stiffening, and it required all hands aloft.

At length, by superhuman exertions, the complex fabric was slowly hoisted to the perpendicular, looking very like a ladder, up which nine scarecrows were clambering. However, no matter what it looked like now, as Wally predicted, they'd spank along.

"We're going already," gasped he, panting with the exertion of holding up his mast. "Look out now! here's a nice breeze coming."

He was right. Next moment the vast foresail fell with a run by the board, and the nine athletes below were nearly shot into the air by the force of the collapse. The coats, fortunately, held together sufficiently well to enable them to be hauled on board in a piece; but as they were soaked through, they afforded very little comfort to the distressed seamen, who decided forthwith to shorten sail at once, and take to the poles once more.

But by this time the "Cock-House," thanks to the tremendous impetus it had just received, was twenty yards from the shore; and Wally, when he put down his pole, nearly went after it, in the vain search for a bottom.

"Here's a go!" said he; "I say, you chaps, I almost fancy, after all, Rollitt must be up the mountain. What do you say?"

"I thought so all along," said Fisher minor. "If he is, Yorke and Stratton will find him."

"Good old Yorke! I say—we may as well back water a bit."

Easier said than done. The old punt, now she was once out on the vasty deep, behaved pretty much as she and the wind between them pleased. For a time it looked very much as if, after all the explorers would reach their destination.

But presently—just, indeed, as the explorers had started a small football match (Association rules), Classics against Moderns, to keep themselves warm, the fickle breeze shifted, and sent the "Cock-House" lumbering inshore a mile or so north of the river-mouth. The Classics had just scored their 114th goal as she grounded, and it was declared by common consent that the voyage was at an end.

Luckily, she came ashore near to a little creek, into which, by prodigious haulings and shovings, she was turned; and here, in a rude way, they succeeded in mooring her until a more convenient season.

The call-over bell was just beginning to ring when the nine mariners got back to Fellsgarth.

Great cheering was going on on the Green, and boys were crowding together discussing some great news.

"What is it?—Rollitt turned up?" asked the juniors.

"No; haven't you heard? Yorke and Stratton went up to look for him on Hawk's Pike. They didn't find him, but they got to the top!"

"Got to the top! One of our chaps got to the top of Hawk's Pike. Hurroo. Yell, you chaps. Bravo, Yorke! Bully for Fellsgarth!"

"I wish they'd found Rollitt, all the same," said Fisher minor; "I'm afraid he's gone for good."

"Not he. Didn't we nearly find him to-day, you young muff?" retorted Wally. "Besides, a fellow who's gone for good wouldn't come and buy sixpenny-worth of Abernethys at our shop in the night, would he?"

Fisher minor took what comfort he could from the assurance, and trooped in with his fellow-adventurers to call-over.



CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.

"BURY THE HATCHET!"

Notwithstanding Yorke's exploit, and the prevailing hopefulness of the juniors, the feeling of gloom deepened on Fellsgarth when another day ended, and no news was forthcoming of the lost boy.

To a great many it was a shock to hear he was not on the mountain. From what was known of his eccentricities and recklessness, it seemed as likely as not he would retreat up there and remain till he was fetched down.

When it was found he was not there, there seemed to be nowhere else left to look. The lake (quite independently of the eventful cruise of the "Cock-house") had been thoroughly searched; Penchurch had been ransacked; every cottage and home in the neighbourhood had been called at. The river-banks, up and down stream, had been searched too, and daily communication with Rollitt's home made it increasingly clear he had not gone there.

The incident of the six Abernethys and the 6 pence was not seriously considered. There was no evidence that Rollitt had effected the mysterious purchase, and the eccentricities of the young shopmen left it very doubtful whether more than half of that story was not a sensational fiction of their own.

Masters and boys alike went to bed full of trouble and foreboding.

Fisher major, more perhaps than any one, took the situation to heart. He had never ranged himself with Rollitt's accuser; yet, had it not been for his bad management and stupidity, all the trouble would never have come about. Now, if anything grave had happened to the missing boy, Fisher major felt that on his shoulders rested all the blame.

But his misery was turned into rage when, just before bedtime, a fag came over with the following letter from Dangle:—

"I am not surprised you should be so ready to be imposed upon. You have done mischief enough already; but you have been robbed all the same. Any one but a simpleton would see that the turning up of the money just when it did was a suspicious coincidence. What could be easier than for the thief either to impose on Widow Wisdom, and get her to bring back the money with the story about the shirt; or else, during one of his frequent visits there, as soon as he saw that he was found out, to slip it into the pocket himself! Where he got it from I don't pretend to guess; but I don't mind betting that somebody in the School is poorer by L4 10 shillings for this tardy act of restitution. It deceived no one but you. 'None are so blind,' etcetera.

"R. Dangle."

Fisher fairly tore his hair over this scoundrelly document. His impulse was to go over then and there, drag the writer out of his bed, and make him literally swallow his own words. He might have done it, had not the captain just then looked in.

"Why, what's up?" said the latter, who seemed none the worse for his big climb. "What's the matter?"

"Matter? Read this!" shouted Fisher.

Yorke read the letter. An angry flush spread over his face as he did so.

"He shall answer for it to-night!" said Fisher. "No, not to-night. Let the cad have a night's rest. He shall answer for it to-morrow, though, before the whole School. Let me have the letter, old man."

"If you'll promise to make him smart for it."

"You can make your mind easy about that." Next morning, to the surprise of every one, a notice appeared on the door of each house.

Notice.

"A School meeting is summoned for this afternoon at 3.

"(Signed) C. Yorke (Wakefield's). G. Clapperton (Forder's). P. Bingham (Stratton's). L. Porter (Wilbraham's)."

"What's up now?" said Wally, as he read it. "Like Clapperton's cheek to go sticking his name under our man's—and old Bingham, too! What right has he to stick his nose in it?—and, ha, ha, Porter! that's the green idiot in specs, who calls himself captain of Wilbraham's! Well, I never!"

"Shall you go?" asked D'Arcy.

"Rather! Wonder what they're up to, though?"

"Perhaps Rollitt's found, and they're going to trot him out."

"Perhaps they're going to have an eight-handed mill, those four—you know—like what we had."

"I know, when you rammed me below the belt," said Cottle.

"Crams. You know I played on your third waistcoat button. I was never below it once."

"Perhaps Yorke's going to give a lecture on the ascent of Hawk's Pike."

"I know what it is. They're going to give the chaps back their subscriptions. What a run there'll be on the shop directly after!"

This last rumour was industriously put about by the juniors, and was believed in a good many quarters.

A new diversion, however, served to put aside speculation for a time.

"Hullo, who's that lout?" asked D'Arcy, as he and Wally, having shaken off the others for a season, were "taking a cool," arm in arm near the playing-field gate.

The object of this remark was a stalwart, middle-aged, labouring man, who carried an American cloth bag in his hand, and, to judge by the mud on his garments, had travelled some distance. He was trying to open the gate into the field, and on seeing our two juniors beckoned to them inquiringly.

"You can't get in there," said Wally. "You'll have to go to the other gate at the Watch-Tower."

"Is this here Fellsgarth School, young master?" said the man.

"Rather," replied Wally.

"Is the governor at home!"

"Who—Ringwood? I don't know; they'll tell you at the gate."

"He's come to mend the door of your young brother's room, I expect," said D'Arcy. "I hope he won't bung up the squirt-hole while he's about it."

"No. I say, carpenter," said Wally, as the man was about to turn off in the direction of the other gate, "when you mend that door in Forder's, make it strong, do you hear? It gets kicked at rather by fellows. And don't bung—"

"Carpenter? I ain't no carpenter. I want to see the governor."

Gruffly as the man spoke, he evidently regarded the two young gentlemen as persons of some distinction, and lingered a moment longer to ask another question.

"Beg your pardon, young gents," said he; "but you don't chance to know if Alf Rollitt has come back?"

They gazed at him in amazement.

"Rollitt? no. Do you know where he is, I say?"

"Not come back?" said the man, hoarsely. "I made sure as he'd be back afore now."

"Do you know where he is?" repeated Wally.

"Not me—he's bound to be somewheres. But the missus, she wouldn't rest till I come and see."

"The missus! I say, do you know Rollitt?"

"Well, they do say it's a wise father as don't know his own child."

"What! Are you Rollitt's father?" asked they, glancing involuntarily at the shabby clothes and rough, weatherbeaten face.

"Nothing to be ashamed of, are it?" said the stranger. "'Tain't my Alf's fault I ain't in gents' togs."

This rebuke abashed our two juniors considerably.

"Rather not," said Wally. "Our lot's backing Rollitt up, you know. We've been out to look for him, haven't we, D'Arcy?"

"Of course we have; good old Rollitt," said D'Arcy.

"Thank you kindly, young gents," said Mr Rollitt, who seemed rather dazed. "I ain't no scholar, nor no gent either. But my boy Alf's a good boy, and he don't mean no disrespect to the likes of you by running away. He's bound to be somewheres."

"I say," said Wally, "if you come round to the other gate, you can get in—we'll show you where Ringwood's house is."

"Tell you what," said he to D'Arcy, as the two boys went back by the field to meet him, "he doesn't seem a bad sort of chap—it won't do to let my young brother Percy and those Modern cads get hold of him. I vote we nurse him on our side while he's here."

"All serene," said D'Arcy. "Ask him to tea after the meeting."

"I suppose we shall have to let those other chaps be in it too," suggested Wally dubiously, after a moment.

"Better. We'll all see him through together."

The spectacle of two juniors, looking very important, carefully conducting an anxious-faced labouring man across the School Green, was enough to rouse a little curiosity. And when presently the bodyguard, after sundry whispered communications, increased from two to nine, who marched three in front, two behind, and two on either side of their celebrity, speculation became active and warm.

The escort glared defiantly at any one who ventured to approach the group; but when it was observed that they made straight for the doctor's house, and one by one shook hands with the visitor on the doorstep, there was very little doubt left as to who the stranger might be.

"Mind you come to tea," said Wally, as they parted.

"Don't you make no mistake, I'll be there," said the guest.

Work in school that morning dragged heavily. The impending meeting was perplexing the minds of not a few. The phenomenon of. Yorke's and Clapperton's names appended to the same document puzzled boys who still kept alive the animosity which had wrecked the School clubs earlier in he term and brought the sports to a deadlock. And the addition of the names of the captains of the other two houses made it evident that the whole School was concerned in the business. This, coupled with the mystery of Rollitt's disappearance, and the now notorious internecine feuds of the Modern seniors, gave promise of one of the biggest meetings ever held in Hall.

As to the juniors, they had a treble care on their mind. First, the meeting, and the expected refunding of the Club subscriptions; second, the consequent run on the shop; and third, the "small and early."

In Wally's study afterwards to meet A. Rollitt, Senior, Esq.

However, despite all these cares, the morning's work was got through, the dreaded impositions were avoided, and when the midday meal was ended a general rush was made for the familiar benches in Hall.

The state of doubt every one was in operated adversely to the usual cheering. Fellows didn't know whom they were expected to cheer. Dangle, for instance, pale and sullen,—were the Moderns expected to cheer him? The Classics hissed him, which was one reason why his own house should applaud. But then, if they cheered Dangle, how should they do about Clapperton, who had fought Dangle a week ago? They got over the difficulty by doing neither, but starting party cries which they could safely cheer; and chaffing everybody all round.

Punctually at three, Yorke rose and said they no doubt were curious to know what the meeting was called for. It was called for one or two purposes. The first was to see if they could revive the School clubs. (Cheers.) He wasn't going to say a word of ancient history. (Laughter.) But as they stood now, they had a lot of fellows anxious to play, they had the materials for as good a fifteen this winter, and as good an eleven next spring (cheers), as any school in the country; and yet the playing-fields stood idle, and the name of Fellsgarth was dropping out of all the records. They had had enough of that sort of thing. Every one was sick of it. Fellows had agreed with him when it was proposed to disband the clubs; he hoped they would agree with him now that the time had come for reviving them. But there was to be a difference. The clubs were not to be open to everybody, as heretofore. They didn't want everybody. (Hear, hear, from Wally, D'Arcy, Ashby, and Fisher, as they pointed across to the Modern juniors.) They only wanted fellows who would play and could play; as to the former, that of course would be decided by the fellow himself, who would send in an application to the committee. As to the latter, that would be decided by the captain. (Oh!) Yes, by the captain. What's the good of a captain if he's not to decide a matter like that? And if the fellow is not satisfied with the captain's decision, he may appeal to Mr Stratton, the new president of the club. (Cheers.) There's nothing to prevent any one who plays his best joining—there's nothing to prevent those youngsters at the end of the room, who are kicking up such a row, joining the clubs, as long as they work hard in the field. (Cheers and laughter.) The fellows who won't be eligible are the louts, and those who can play but won't. (Loud cheers.)

Clapperton rose to second the motion. He had lost a great deal of his "side" during the last few days, and though he looked in better tiff than he had done lately, the present occasion was evidently an effort. He said: "Yorke has made a generous speech. He avoided ancient history, and therefore did not go into the reason why the clubs were dissolved and the School sports came to smash. I could tell you—but what's the use? You all know. Yorke said to me before the meeting, 'Let bygones be bygones, old man—we were all to blame—bury the hatchet—let's get right for the future.' Gentlemen, there was one fellow who was not to blame. His name was not Clapperton. It was Yorke." (Loud cheers.) "But I say with him, if you let me, 'Bury the hatchet.'" (Cheers.) "And to prove it, I beg to hand in my name to the committee for election. I answer for myself that I am willing to play; and if the captain decides that I can play," (laughter), "why, I will play." (Loud applause.)

Fullerton and Corder both sprang up to support the motion. The former made way for Corder, who merely wished to say how delighted he was. He also voted for the burying of the hatchet. He had minded being stopped football more than anything else. He gave in his name. He would play, and he might tell them that the captain had already told him he could play. (Laughter, and cries of "Blow your own trumpet.") All right—it was the only thing he had to be cocky about; and he meant to be cocky. He supported the motion. (Cheers.)

Fullerton handed in his name, and was very glad to think that he and his old friend Clapperton would have a chance of running up the field again together. ("If you're elected!" from the end of the room, and laughter.) Oh, of course, if he was elected. He hoped when the gentleman down there was captain, fifty years hence, he would deal as liberally with candidates as he was sure Yorke would deal now. (Laughter, at Wally's expense.)

The other prefects followed suit, and gave in their allegiance to the new clubs. Curiosity was alive to see what attitude Brinkman and Dangle would adopt. For a while it seemed as if they would take no part; but at length, when Yorke was about to put the motion, Brinkman rose and said, "I made up my mind when I came here I'd have no more to do with the clubs. But Yorke's 'Bury the hatchet' gives a fellow a chance. If you mean that," (Yes, yes), "if this is a fresh start, here's my name!" (Loud cheers.) "You needn't cheer. I didn't mean to give it—but now I have, I—I—won't shirk it," and he sat down hurriedly.

Then Dangle rose, with a sneer on his face.

"This sort of thing is infectious. I can't feel quite so sure as some of you about burying the hatchet; but, not to be peculiar, you may put me down—"

"And I can tell you at once, and before all these fellows," said Yorke, rising hotly, and interrupting, "that we won't have you! And that brings me to the other business—and that's about Rollitt. We can't bury the hatchet so easily, as far as he is concerned. For he is still absent, and no one knows what has become of him. I'm not going to say a word to make little of Fisher's major's mistake. It was bad enough, in all conscience, for Rollitt. But it was only a mistake. But what do you fellows say of the cad who deliberately gets up a story about him; and, even when he finds out there is not a shadow of truth in it, repeats it in a worse form than before? There are some her who believed the first report and joined in the suspicions. That was hardly to be wondered at. But every one of them had the decency, as soon as the money was found, to admit that they had been wrong, and to regret their unfair suspicion of a Fellsgarth fellow. All but one—this cad here! Only last night, you fellows, he wrote the letter I hold in my hand. I mean to read it to you, and I hope you won't forget it in a hurry."

"You shan't read it; it wasn't to you!" said Dangle, making a rush at the paper; "give it back!"

"You shall have it back," said Yorke in a warmer temper than any one had seen him in before, "when I've read it. Stop, and listen to it. It'll do you good."

"Read away!" sneered Dangle, giving up the contest. "It's the truth."

Yorke read, and as he proceeded, shame and anger rose to boiling-point in the audience, so that towards the end the reader's voice was almost drowned in the hisses.

"There," said the captain, crumpling up the paper in his hand and flinging it at the writer's feet, "there's your letter; and until you apologise to the whole school you have insulted, you needn't expect we'll bury the hatchet!"

Dangle scowled round and tried to swagger.

"Is that all the business?" he sneered.

"No!" shouted some voices. "He ought to be kicked."

"Wait a bit," cried Wally, excitedly, standing on a form, "there's Rollitt's governor just come. Some of our chaps have gone to fetch him. He'll—"

Here the door opened, and, escorted by half a dozen of the juniors, Mr Rollitt, looking more bewildered than ever, walked in.

He looked apologetically from one side to the other, saying, "Thank'ee kindly," and "No offence, young gents," until he found himself at the end of the Hall among the prefects.

Then Yorke got up again, still hot with temper, and a dead silence ensued. Dangle smiled at first. But his face gradually blanched as he looked round and found his retreat cut off, and guessed what was coming.

"Mr Rollitt," said Yorke, "we are your son's schoolfellows. A great wrong has been done him. He has been suspected of being a thief, and has run away. We all now know that he's not a thief; and we are ashamed that he has ever been suspected. We hope he will come back, so that we may tell him so. But there is one fellow here who still says your son is a thief, although he knows as well as we do he isn't. What shall we do to him?"

Mr Rollitt looked up and down, casting a glance first at his young protectors at the end of the Hall, then scanning the benches before him, then running his eye along the row of prefects, and finally taking the measure of Yorke as he stood and waited for an answer.

Then suddenly the question seemed to come home.

"My son Alf a thief? There's one of 'em says that, is there? My son Alf a thief? Do to him! Why, I'll tell you. Just keep him till my son Alf comes back, and make him go and say it to his face. That's what I should do to him, young gents."

"That's what we will do," said Yorke. "The meeting is over."

And amid the excitement that ensued, the rush to put down names for the new club, the cheers and hootings and hand-shakings of old enemies, Mr Rollitt was carried off in triumph by his nine hosts to high tea in Wally Wheatfield's room.



CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.

THE WATCH-TOWER.

Wally's study—he always liked to call it a "study," but his friends preferred to call it a den—could comfortably accommodate six. The juniors had frequently to own that nine, the normal size of the party, was a jam. When, in addition to that, a big, brawny man was thrown in, it came to be a serious question as to how the four walls would sustain the strain.

Wally, however, was determined to manage somehow. He indignantly rejected Percy's offer to his more spacious apartment over the way. No. He had captured the lion—he and D'Arcy—and they would entertain him in their own den.

After all, it was not so bad. It only meant letting the fire out and putting one chair in the fender, and shoving the other end of the table (which had been doubled in length by the addition of the table out of a neighbouring room, that was within four inches of the same height) close up against the door, which it was just possible to shut. As, however, the door opened outwards, it was necessary for the gentleman occupying the foot of the table to sit out in the passage, much to the inconvenience of the casual passers-by.

To a shy man like Mr Rollitt, it was a difficult position to find himself the honoured guest of nine young gentlemen like these.

"Thank'ee kindly, young masters," said he, when Ashby relieved him of his hat and Fisher minor of his bag, and Percy undermined him with a chair, and Cottle handed him the Boy's Own Paper, and Cash came in with a hassock, and D'Arcy put a railway rug over his knees.

Wally, whose ideas of hospitality were of the old school, deemed it expedient, while tea was being served, to engage his guest on the subject of the weather.

"Rather finer the last few days than it was the other week when it rained?" said he. "Rollitt's having fine weather for his trip."