"Shan't Mug or I go this time?" asked Jack Vance; "it's rather a risky business."

"No, I'll go; I know now just where to hide."

During the half-hour between tea and evening preparation Jack Vance and Mugford lingered about in the dark and deserted quadrangle, anxiously awaiting their comrade's return. Once only was the silence broken, by Maxton chasing young "Rats" from the gymnasium into the big school, shouting, "I'll lick you, you little villain!" but with this exception, our two friends had the place to themselves.

It was a raw, cold night; every one seemed, very naturally, to be keeping indoors, and there were no signs of any members of the secret society being abroad. Jack Vance and his companion trotted softly up and down, endeavouring to keep themselves warm. At length, when their patience was wellnigh exhausted, there was a sound of footsteps, and Diggory was descried coming through the archway leading to the playing fields.

"Well," cried his two chums, in low, eager tones, "what have you heard?"

The answer was certainly one they had least expected,—

"Nothing."

"Nothing! what d'you mean?"

"Why, they didn't come; there wasn't any meeting. I waited and waited, until I saw it was no use staying any longer; so then I gave it up as a bad job."

"Did the note really say to-night?"

"Yes: I went down just before tea to see if it was still there, and I brought it away with me. Here, look for yourself."

As he spoke, Diggory produced the slip of paper from his waistcoat pocket. By the light of the archway lamp it was compared with a hastily-constructed key, and the former translation was found to be correct.

The Triple Alliance had certainly for once in a way "drawn blank," and the preparation bell putting an end to their further deliberations, they directed their steps toward the schoolroom, wondering more than ever what could be the meaning of that significant word, "To-night."

Now, the real reason of the three friends being thus at fault in their investigations was simply this: they were exactly twenty-four hours behindhand in their attempt to unravel the mystery. The conclusion they had come to with regard to the meaning of the note was correct: a tacit understanding had existed for some time among the inner circle of the Thurstonian party that this should be the signal for a gathering of the clan; but the note, when Diggory had found it, had been lying in the impromptu post office for a day and a half, and the meeting to which it was a summons had already taken place on the previous evening.

For the reader, who is a privileged person, we intend to put back the clock, and leaving the Triple Alliance dividing their attention between attempts to discover the meaning, first of their Latin author, and secondly of the enigma formed by this perplexing single-worded epistle, we will give a short account of the gathering to which it referred.

It was while the greater number of their school-fellows were gathered in numerous little groups, whiling away the free time before preparation discussing the various rumours that were current respecting Mr. Grice's encounters with Oaks and Allingford, that the same five conspirators assembled for another secret "confab" in the den beneath the pavilion.

In one way it was a fortunate thing for Diggory that he did not discover the note sooner, for hardly had Thurston set the lighted candle in the empty bottle than Noaks picked it up, and peered carefully into each of the four corners, and behind the heaps of benches and other lumber.

"What are you doing that for?" asked Gull.

"Oh, only to see that no one's come who wasn't invited. D'you remember last time what a stink there was of a burnt fusee? Well, after you'd gone I found young Trevanock knocking about the field, and I wouldn't swear but what he knew something about our meeting. I searched the young beggar's pockets; but he hadn't got any more lights, so I let him go."

The party grouped themselves round the candle, as they had done on the previous occasion, when Diggory had watched their movements from behind the pile of forms, and Thurston, with an inquiring look at Fletcher, asked, "Well, what's the object of this pleasant little reunion?"

"I suppose you can pretty well guess," answered the other. "The last time we were here we all agreed that before the end of the term was up we'd get even chalks with Allingford and Co. Well, seeing there's only eight days left, I thought it was about time we had another meeting, and decided what we were going to do.—By-the-bye," added the speaker, turning with something like a sneer on his lips, and addressing his chum, "it's the Wraxby match on Saturday; I suppose they haven't asked you to play in the team?"

The shaft went home, and Thurston's face darkened with anger.

"No," he answered indignantly, "and I wouldn't play, not if they all went down on their knees and begged me to. What do I care about the Wraxby match? If I could, I'd put a stopper on it, and bring the whole thing to the ground."

"Well," continued Fletcher calmly, "that's just what we're going to do. If you'd asked me this morning how we could put a spoke in Allingford's wheel, and pay out him and a lot of those other prigs like Oaks and Rowlands, I couldn't have told you; but now the thing's as easy as pat. They'll find out they haven't cold-shouldered me at every turn and corner for nothing. I'll give them tit for tat, and after Christmas, when I've left this beastly place, I'll write and tell them who did it."

"You seem to have got your back up, old chap," said Thurston, referring to the bitter tones in which the last few sentences had been spoken; "but out with it—what's your plan?"

"Why, this: I'd no idea what a chance we should have when I stuck that note in our pillar-box, but here it is all ready made. Allingford and Oaks have had a row with little Grice; he's reported them, and it's quite natural they should want to pay him out for doing it. As they're such good boys, I don't suppose they'll try anything of the kind; but we might undertake the job, and do it for them."

The speaker paused to see if he had been understood.

"What!" exclaimed Thurston bluntly, "you mean, play Grice a trick and make it appear they'd done it because of this rumpus about locking the door?"

"That's about it," returned the other, laughing. "What could we do better?"

Noaks murmured his approval of the scheme, but Gull and Hawley were silent. To tell the truth, since the big row following their attack on Browse had put a stop to any further chance of card-parties and other amusements in Thurston's study, their attachment to the ex-prefect had considerably lessened. Like many others of their kind, they were thoroughly selfish at heart, and saw no good in running any personal risk to settle the quarrels of a third person. The party feeling which had characterized the last school elections, and caused for the time being a spirit of ill-will and opposition towards the school leaders, had just about died a natural death; and if another public meeting had been called in the gymnasium, not half a dozen fellows would have shouted for Thurston, or allied themselves against the side of law and order. All this had tended to make Hawley and Gull lukewarm in their adherence to the cause. Noaks, however, who would have paid any price for the privilege of being able to hobnob with those who were in any higher position than himself, was ready to follow his two Sixth Form cronies to any extreme they might suggest.

"Well," he inquired, "and what's to be the trick?"

"I only just thought of one on the spur of the moment," answered Fletcher; "but if no one else has a better to suggest, I daresay it'll do. We might screw up little Grice's bedroom door so as to get him down late in the morning; his room's right away at the end of the passage. There is a screw-driver belonging to Oaks lying in one of the empty lockers—it has his name on the handle; and if we happened to drop it as we came away, I think that in the face of this row it would look uncommonly like his doing. D'you twig?"

There was something so mean and cowardly in this scheme, and in the manner in which the proposal was made, that even Thurston gave vent to an exclamation of contempt.

"So that's your little game, is it?" he inquired.

"Yes, that's it; that's my little project for putting a stop to the Wraxby match. There'll be an awful row, and the doctor'll keep the team from going. Now, then, who'll do the trick?—Will you, Hawley?"

"No fear," answered Hawley. "Gull and I did most of the last two blow-ups; it's some one else's turn now. Suppose you do it yourself, as it's your idea."

Fletcher frowned: in matters of this sort he liked to make the plans and get others to execute them. "Well, I was thinking one of you might," he began.

"Oh, bother!" interrupted Thurston, whose revengeful spirit had been once more aroused by the mention of the Wraxby match—"it's nothing; you and I'll do it."

"And I'll help if you like," added Noaks, who thought the present occasion a good opportunity to distinguish himself.

"All right," continued Thurston: "you go down town and get some screws, Noaks—two or three good long ones."

"Well, we'll fix to-morrow night," said Fletcher. "Keep awake, and meet at the top of B staircase, say at one o'clock; then there's no fear but what every one'll be asleep."

The Triple Alliance had for some hours ceased to puzzle their brains over either Virgil or cipher notes, and the whole of Ronleigh College was apparently wrapped in slumber, when three shadowy figures assembled on the landing at the top of staircase B, and proceeded noiselessly along the corridor, and down the side passage at the end of which Mr. Grice's room was situated.

"Have you got the screws?"

"Yes," answered Noaks, producing a twist of paper from his pocket.

"Don't you think I'd better go and keep cave at the top of the stairs?" whispered Fletcher.

"No," returned Thurston; "Noaks can do that. I'll make the two holes, and you must put the screws in; you're the best carpenter of the lot."

Standing in the cold, dark passage, the work seemed to take ages to perform; but at length it was finished.

"Hist! what are you doing?"

Fletcher had produced a scrap of paper from his pocket, and was seemingly about to slip it under the door.

"I want to make certain that it shall be put down to Oaks," he whispered; "so in case the screw-driver should be overlooked, I'm going to slip this under the door for Grice to find in the morning."

Thurston glanced at the paper, and saw printed thereon in bold capitals the following inscription:—

"BE IN TIME BY THE SCHOOL CLOCK."



CHAPTER XXI.

REAPING THE WHIRLWIND.

Work at Ronleigh commenced with a sort of half-hour's preliminary practice in the various classrooms; the school then assembled for prayers, after which came breakfast. During the progress of this meal on the Friday morning, in the small hours of which had been enacted the scene described at the end of the previous chapter, it became evident that "something was up." The table, at which sat most of the boys of the Third Form, was in a state of great disorder, while the discussion of some topic of unusual interest seemed to be occupying the attention of the prefects. It was not, however, until after the boys had swarmed out of the dining-hall that the reason of this subdued commotion became generally known; and then, like the sudden report of an explosion, every one seemed to become acquainted with the news at the same moment. Mr. Grice had been screwed up in his bedroom! Oaks and Allingford had done it! The doctor had summoned them to meet him in his study!

It was from a member of the Third Form that the Triple Alliance heard the particulars of what had happened. "'Little Grice,'" said this young gentleman, whose own height was about four feet two inches—"'little Grice' never turned up until just before the bell rang for prayers, and then he was simply bursting with rage, and told us all about it. They'd put a note under his door telling him to be in time by the school clock; and besides that, when one of the men went to get him out, he found a screw-driver with Oaks's name on, so it's as clear as day who did it."

This conversation took place in the quadrangle. Travers, the Third Form boy, rushed off to impart his information to other hearers, and the three chums passed on through the archway, and came to a stand-still in a quiet corner of the paved playground.

"Well," asked Diggory, "who did it?"

"Who d'you think it was?" retorted Jack Vance.

"Why, some of Thurston's lot, I believe."

"So do I."

Mugford, who was always rather slow at grasping a new idea, opened his eyes in astonishment. "But," he exclaimed, "how about the paper and the screw-driver?"

"Pooh!" answered Diggory, "how about that cipher note that said, 'To-night'?"

"Of course," added Jack Vance, "they'd evidently arranged it beforehand, and that paper was to say when they were to do the trick."

It seems possible sometimes to come by wrong roads to a right conclusion; and though the boys were mistaken in changing from their first opinion as to the meaning of the note, yet in this instance their error caused them to hit the right nail on the head.

"It was one of Thurston's lot who did it," repeated Diggory decisively; "neither Oaks nor Allingford would ever dream of doing such a mad thing."

"I don't see exactly how you can prove it," said Jack Vance thoughtfully; "that one word 'To-night' might mean anything."

"Of course it's no proof in itself," answered the other; "but what I mean to say is, that if the doctor, or any other sensible chap, knew all we do about the cipher, and what they said at their last meeting, he wouldn't doubt for a moment but that it was one of them who screwed up Grice's door. Travers says the doctor has sent for Oaks and old Ally; it'll be an awful shame if they get into a row."

"I don't see how they are going to get out of it," sighed Mugford.

"Then I do," answered Diggory stoutly, with a sudden flash in his bright eyes: "the Triple Alliance can get them out!"

"How?"

"Why, we must tell all we know, and show Dr. Denson the note."

"When?"

"Now."

"Won't it be sneaking?"

"I should consider we were beastly sneaks if we didn't."

"So we should be!" exclaimed Jack Vance. "They've always been jolly decent to us, and it was on our account they had this row with Grice."

"If Noaks finds we've split, he'll send that knife to the police," said Mugford.

"I don't care a straw what Noaks does," answered Diggory boldly. "You fellows needn't have anything to do with it; I'll go and tell Dr. Denson myself."

"No; I'll come too," said Jack.

"So'll I," added Mugford; and off they started. It was always a great ordeal to enter the doctor's study, even in what might be termed times of peace; and now, as Diggory turned the handle of the door, in answer to the muffled "Come in" which had followed his knock, the three friends experienced a sudden shortness of breath, and an unpleasant sinking sensation at the pit of the stomach.

The two prefects were standing at the front of the writing-table. Allingford's face was very white, and Oaks's very red, "for all the world like the Wars of the Roses," as Jack Vance afterwards remarked, though it would be difficult to clearly understand the simile.

The head-master glanced round for a moment to see who had entered the room, and, without taking any further notice of the three juveniles, continued the speech he was in the act of making when they entered the apartment.

"I am not going to defend the action of Mr. Grice," he was saying. "We are all apt to make mistakes, and I will tell you candidly that on this occasion I think Mr. Grice was unwise; but it is absolutely necessary that I should uphold the authority of my masters. If boys consider they are not justly dealt with, they have me to appeal to; but the idea that disputes between the two should be settled by practical joking is simply outrageous. This is the first instance of the kind that I ever remember to have happened at Ronleigh, and I tell you plainly that I am determined to make an example of the offenders."

"I assure you, sir," said Oaks, in a low, agitated voice, "that we have had no hand in this matter."

"I am sorry even to seem to doubt your word, Oaks," answered the doctor, "but I think you must own that appearances are very much against you. A screw-driver bearing your name was found in the passage, and this piece of paper, which was pushed under the bedroom door, and which now lies before me, bears a direct reference to the dispute about the school time. As far as I can see at present, the only conclusion which can be arrived at is that this is an act of retaliation which has sprung from your contention with Mr. Grice."

The captain was about to speak, but Dr. Denson held up his hand.

"As I said before," he continued, "I am sorry, Allingford, even to appear to doubt your word; I have always had reason to rely with confidence upon the integrity and honour of my prefects, and believe me, this interview is to me an exceedingly painful one. The matter, however, is too serious to be passed over lightly, and you must hear me to the end. The conduct of the school during the present term has been far from satisfactory: two acts of gross misconduct have already been committed, and I cannot but blame those whom I hold mainly responsible for the order of the school that in both instances the offenders should have gone unpunished. It seems hardly possible to me that such things should happen without its coming to the ears of the prefects who were the perpetrators of the deeds in question. Here we have a third example of the same thing. If neither of you took any actual part in screwing up this door, I am still inclined to think that you must have been cognizant of the act, and I demand to know the names of the offenders. Take time to think before you answer. I warn you once more that I am determined to sift the matter to the bottom."

Once more the two prefects protested that they had not the remotest idea who had played the trick on Mr. Grice.

Dr. Denson frowned, and sat for some moments without speaking, rapping the blotting-pad in front of him with the butt end of a seal; then remembering the presence of the small boys, he turned towards them with an inquiring look.

"Well?"

Diggory's face wore something of the same expression which Jack and Mugford had seen upon it when long ago their friend first distinguished himself at The Birches by going down the slide on skates. He gave a nervous little cough, and advancing towards the head-master's table, laid thereon the cipher note, at the same time remarking, "If you please, sir, we know who screwed up little—hem! Mr. Grice's door, or, at all events, we think we do."

So sudden and unexpected was this announcement that it caused the doctor to half rise from his chair, while Oaks and Allingford turned and gazed at the speaker in open-mouthed astonishment. They none of them expected for a moment that the three youngsters had come for any more important purpose than to solicit orders for new caps or "journey-money," and this confession came like a thunderbolt from a clear sky.

"What!" exclaimed the head-master, taking the scrap of paper, and glancing alternately from the mystic word to the boy's face—"what on earth is this? Explain yourself."

It would be unnecessary to attempt a verbatim report of Diggory's evidence; in doing so we should but be repeating facts with which the reader is already acquainted. Let it suffice to say that, with many haltings and stumbles, he gave a full account of his finding the first cipher, translating the same, attending the secret meeting, and, lastly, discovering on the previous day the brief note which he had just produced.

The telling of the tale occupied some considerable time, for the doctor had many questions to ask; and when it came to the account of the conversation which had taken place under the pavilion, his face visibly darkened.

"My eye," remarked Diggory, an hour later, "I wouldn't go through that again for something! I swear that by the time I'd finished the perspiration was running down my back in a regular stream."

"Well," said the doctor, turning to Jack Vance and Mugford, when their companion had finished speaking, "and what have you two got to say?"

"Only the same as Trevanock, sir; we—we found it out together."

"Then, in the first place, why didn't you tell me all this before?"

"We were afraid to, sir," faltered Jack Vance; "and we thought it would be sneaking."

"Dear, dear," exclaimed the head-master impatiently, "when will you boys see things in a proper light? You think it wrong to tell tales, and yet quite right that innocent people should suffer for things done by these miserable cowards!"

"No, sir," answered Diggory: "we've come now to try to get Oaks out of a scrape; though we—were afraid—"

"Afraid of what?"

"Nothing, sir."

"Afraid of telling more tales, I suppose. Well, well; the question now is whether the same boys are guilty of having screwed up Mr. Grice's door. Why they should have done such a thing I don't understand, nor do I see how it is to be brought home to them simply by means of this exceedingly brief note."

There was a silence. Diggory glanced up, and received a look from the two prefects that amply repaid him for the trying ordeal through which he had just passed. Jack Vance leaned over to whisper something in his ear, when their attention was attracted by an exclamation of surprise from Dr. Denson.

"Aha! what does this mean?—Look here, Allingford."

Every member of the company edged forward, and looking down at what lay on the writing-table, saw in a moment that the mystery was solved.

The communication which had been slipped under the bedroom door was written on a half-sheet of small-sized note-paper; a similar piece of stationery had been used for the cipher note. The head-master had accidentally brought them together on his blotting-pad and the rough, torn edge of the one fitted exactly into the corresponding side of the other. They had both unmistakably come from the same source!

Even the dread atmosphere of the doctor's study could not restrain some show of excitement on the part of those interested in this disclosure, but it was quickly suppressed.

"Oaks," said the doctor, "go and give my compliments to Mr. Cowland, and ask him to open school for me; and at the same time inform the following boys that I wish to see them at once, here in my study: Fletcher One, Thurston, Gull, Hawley, and Noaks."

To the Triple Alliance hours seemed to pass before a shuffling of feet in the passage announced the arrival of the Thurstonians. One by one they filed into the room, the door was shut, and there was a moment of awful silence. Even Diggory trembled, and Allingford, noticing it, laid his big hand reassuringly on the small boy's shoulder.

"I wish to know," began the doctor, "which of you boys were concerned in what took place last night? I refer, of course, to the screwing up of Mr. Grice's bedroom door."

No one spoke, but Fletcher turned pale to the lips.

"Had you anything to do with it, Fletcher?"

"No, sir."

"Then will you tell me the meaning of this?" continued the head-master, holding up the cipher note.

"I—I don't know what it means," began the prefect.

"Don't lie to me, sir," interrupted the doctor sternly. "You know very well what it means; it's of your own invention."

Thurston saw clearly that the game was up, and with the recklessness of despair decided at once to accept the inevitable.

"I screwed up Mr. Grice's door," he said sullenly.

"And who assisted you?"

To this inquiry Thurston would give no reply, but maintained a dogged silence. Gull and Hawley, however, anxious at all costs to save their own skins, practically answered the question by saying, "We didn't," and casting significant glances at Noaks and Fletcher.

What followed it is hardly necessary to describe in detail. The five culprits were subjected to a merciless cross-examination, during which a confession, not only of their various transgressions, but also of the motives which had prompted them to adopt such a line of conduct, was dragged from their unwilling lips. The cloak was torn off, and the cowardice and meanness of their actions appeared plainly revealed, and were forced home even to their own hearts.

"Thurston and Fletcher," said the doctor, when at length, long after the bell had rung for "interval," the inquiry concluded, "go to your studies, and remain there till you hear from me—Noaks, go in like manner to the housekeeper's room.—Gull and Hawley, as you seem to have taken no active part in this last misdemeanour, you may go. As regards your previous misconduct, I shall speak to you on that subject when I have decided what is to be done with your companions."

For the Triple Alliance the remainder of the day passed in a whirl of conflicting emotions. In a very short time the whole school knew exactly what had taken place in the doctor's study, and every boy was incensed at the underhanded meanness of this attempted attack on Oaks and Allingford. It was a good thing for Thurston and Fletcher that they had their studies, and Noaks the housekeeper's room, in which to find shelter, or they would have been compelled to run the gauntlet. Hawley and Gull, though not found guilty on this particular count, were hustled and abused for their former misdeeds, which it was perfectly evident would be remembered against them during the remainder of their life at Ronleigh.

As for Diggory and his two chums, never were three small boys made so much of before. "What was the cipher?"—"How did they find it out?"— these and a hundred other questions were continually being dinned in their ears, coupled with slaps on the back, ejaculations of "Well done!"—"You're a precious sharp lot!" and many other expressions of approval.

At the close of this eventful day two things alone remained vividly impressed upon their minds.

The first was an interview with Allingford and Oaks in the former's study.

"Well," said the captain, "you kids have done us a good turn. We were in a precious awkward box, and I don't know how we should have got out of it if it hadn't been for you."

"Yes," added Oaks: "I was never more surprised at anything in my life than when Trevanock said he knew who'd done the business. It made old Denson open his eyes."

"So it did," continued Allingford; "and if it hadn't come out, the whole school would have got into another precious row, and there'd have been a stop put to the Wraxby match. I tell you what. You youngsters thought it sneaking to let out what you knew; in my opinion you'd have been jolly sneaks if you'd shielded those blackguards, and allowed everyone else to suffer. Well, as I said before, you've done is a good turn, and as long as we're at Ronleigh together we shan't forget you."

The second thing which lodged in the recollection of the three friends was a look which Noaks had bestowed upon them as he passed out of the doctor's study.

"Did you see his face?" said Diggory. "He looked as if he could have killed us. He's never forgiven us since that time he was turned off the football field for striking you at The Birches."

"No," added Jack Vance; "and then we were the means of old Noaks getting the sack over those fireworks; and that reminds me he's always had a grudge against me for letting out that time that his father was a servant man; and now there's this last row. Oh yes! he'll do his best now to get us into a bother over that knife of Mugford's."

"Of course he will," answered Diggory; "that's what he meant by glaring at us as he did."

"I don't care!" exclaimed Jack Vance, with forced bravado; "he can't prove we stole the coins."

"Of course he can't," sighed Mugford; "but if there's a row it'll rather spoil our Christmas."



CHAPTER XXII.

WHEN SHALL WE THREE MEET AGAIN?

The Wraxby match was played and won. Allingford and his men journeyed to the neighbouring town, so gaming the additional credit of a victory on their opponents' ground; and thus, for the first time for many years, Ronleigh lowered the flag of their ancient rivals both at cricket and at football.

"Hurrah!" cried "Rats," who was in a great state of excitement when the news arrived; "they won't ask us again if we'd like to play a master, the cheeky beggars!"

The same afternoon on which Ronleigh so distinguished herself saw also the melancholy ending of the school life of two of her number. Thurston and Fletcher One went home to return no more; practically expelled, though the doctor, in this instance, did not make a public example of their departure.

Another thing happened on this memorable day which caused quite a sensation, especially among the members of the upper and lower divisions of the Fourth Form.

"I say, have you heard the latest?" cried Maxton, bursting into the reading-room just before preparation, regardless alike of the presence of Lucas and the rule relating to silence.

"What about?" asked several voices.

"Why, about Noaks!"

"No."

"Well, then, he's run away!"

Magazines and papers fell from the hands which held them, and the usual quiet of the room was broken by a buzz of astonishment.

"Run away! Go on; you don't mean it!"

"I do, though: he's skedaddled right enough, and they can't find him anywhere."

The report was only too true. Afraid to face his schoolfellows, and having already received several intimations, from fellows passing the housekeeper's parlour, that a jolly good licking awaited him when he left his present place of refuge, Noaks had watched his opportunity, and when the boys were at tea had slipped out, and, as Maxton put it, "run away."

No one mourned his loss; even Mouler would not own to having been his friend; and everybody who expressed any opinion on the subject spoke of his departure as being decidedly a good riddance.

The Triple Alliance, however, had cause to feel uneasy when they heard of this latest escapade of their ancient enemy.

"He's got my knife with him," said Mugford; "he may go any day and try for that reward."

For the time being, however, no communication was received from the police-station at Todderton, and none of the three friends was caused, like Eugene Aram, to leave the school with gyves upon his wrists. Whatever evil intentions Noaks might have cherished towards them were destined to be checkmated by a fortunate circumstance, the possibility of which neither side had yet foreseen.

The last day of the term arrived in due course, bringing with it that jolly time when everybody is excited, happy, and good-tempered; when the morning's work is a mere matter of form, and the boys slap their books together at the sound of the bell, with the joyful conviction that the whole length of the Christmas holidays lies between them and "next lesson."

Directly after dinner every one commenced "packing up;" which term might have been supposed to include every form of skylarking which the heart of the small boy could devise, from racing round the quadrangle, arrayed in one of Bibbs's night-shirts, to playing football in the gymnasium, North versus South, with the remains of an old mortar-board.

It was at this period of the day that the Triple Alliance proceeded to carry out a project which had for some little time occupied the minds of at least two of their number. The idea was that the little fraternity should celebrate their approaching separation, and the consequent breaking up of their association, with a sort of funeral feast, the cost of which Jack and Diggory insisted should be borne by the two surviving members. Only one outsider was invited to attend—namely, "Rats," whose cheery presence it was thought would tend to enliven the proceedings, and chase away the gloomy clouds of regret which would naturally hang over the near prospect of parting.

The box-room (where such functions usually took place) being at this time in a state of indescribable uproar, it was decided that the banquet should be served in one of the remote classrooms.

"None of the fellows'll come near it," said Jack Vance; "and if old Watford should be knocking round and catch us there, he won't do anything to-day; we shall have to clear out, that's all."

Accordingly, about a quarter to four, the three friends, with their solitary guest, assembled at the trysting-place. Jack Vance carried two big paper bags, Diggory a biscuit-box and a small tin kettle, while the other two were provided with four clean jam-pots, it having been announced that there was "going to be some cocoa."

For the preparation of this luxury Diggory mounted a form and lit one of the gas-jets, over which he and Jack Vance took it in turns to hold the kettle until the water boiled. Sugar, cocoa, and condensed milk were produced from the biscuit-tin, and the jam-pots having been filled with the steaming beverage, the company seated themselves round the stove, in which there still smouldered some remains of the morning's fire, and prepared to enjoy themselves.

From the first, however, the proceeding's fell as flat as ditch-water. Even the gallant efforts of "Rats" to enliven the party were of no avail; and for some time everybody munched away in silence, Jack Vance occasionally pausing to remark, "Here, pass over that nose-bag, and help yourselves."

The classroom itself, which belonged to the Third Form, was suggestive of that glad season known as "breaking-up." The ink-pots had all been collected, and stood together in a tray on the master's table; fragments of examination papers filled the paper-basket, and were littered here and there about the floor, while some promising Latin scholar had scrawled across the blackboard the well-known words, Dulce Domum. These inspiriting signs of a "good time coming" were, however, lost on the Triple Alliance. Their present surroundings served only to remind them of the old days of "The Happy Family," when they had first come to Ronleigh, never expecting but to have completed the period of their school lives in one another's company.

"Well," said Jack Vance, suddenly broaching the subject which was uppermost in each of their minds, "we've had jolly times together.— D'you remember when we made the Alliance, the day you first came to The Birches, Diggory?"

"Yes," answered Diggory; "it was just after we'd been frightened by the ghost. D'you remember the 'Main-top' and the 'House of Lords' and the Philistines? I wonder what's become of them all?"

One reminiscence suggested another, and after exhausting their recollections of The Birches, they recalled their varied experiences at Ronleigh. Only one adventure was by mutual consent not alluded to: their clandestine visit to The Hermitage, coupled with Noaks's threat, hung like the sword suspended by a single hair above the head of Damocles at the feast.

At length, when the paper bags had been wellnigh emptied, Jack Vance intimated his intention of making a speech—which announcement was received with considerable applause.

"Don't finish up your cocoa," he began, "because, before we dissolve the Alliance, I'm going to propose a toast. We've been friends a long time, and both here and at The Birches, as Diggory says, the Triple Alliance has done wonders and covered itself with glory." (Cheers.) "We said when we started that we'd always stand by each other whatever happened; and so we have, and so we would again if we were going to be together any longer." ("Hear, hear!") "I wish 'Rats' could have joined us, but then I suppose it wouldn't have been the Triple Alliance. However, now it's finished with; but before we break it up, I'm going to call upon you to drink the health of Mr. Mugford. May he have long life and happiness, and a jolly fine house, with a model railway, and a lake for boating in the grounds, and ask us all to come and stay with him whenever we feel inclined."

This sentiment was received with shouts of applause, and in honouring it the jam-pots were drained to their muddy dregs.

No one expected that Mugford would reply, for he was decidedly a man of few words; but on this occasion he rose above his usual self, and sitting with his hands in his trouser pockets, his feet on the fender of the stove, and his chin sunk forward on his breast, delivered himself as follows. The room was already growing dark with the early winter twilight, which perhaps rendered it more easy for him to undertake the task of responding to the toast.

"You've always been very kind to me," he began, speaking rather quickly.

"No, we haven't," interrupted Jack Vance.

"Yes, you have. Just shut up; I'm going to say what I like. You made friends with me because I happened to be in the same room at The Birches; but you always stuck to me, and helped me along a lot when we came here first. I know I'm stupid, and sometimes I feel I'm a coward; but I enjoyed being with you, and shall always remember the times we've had together—yes, I swear I shall—always. And now I've got a drop of cocoa left, so I'm going to propose a toast. You must take 'Rats' in my place. I hope you'll have heaps of larks; and you must write me a letter sometimes and tell me what you're doing. Here goes—The new Triple Alliance!"

It was customary to laugh at whatever Mugford said, but on this occasion not even a smile greeted the conclusion of his remarks.

Only Diggory spoke. "No, we shan't have another Triple Alliance; now it's going to end."

He turned, and taking something out of the biscuit-tin, said solemnly, "I, Diggory Trevanock, do hereby declare that the association known as the Triple Alliance is now dissolved; in token of which I break this bit of a flat ruler, used by us as a sugar-spoon, into three parts, one of which I present to each of the members as a keepsake, to remind them of all our great deeds and many adventures."

Each boy pocketed his fragment of wood in silence. Jack Vance tried to crack a joke, but it was a miserable failure.

"There was something I wanted to say," began "Rats" thoughtfully. "I shall remember it in a minute. Oh, bother!"

"What's up?"

"Why, I know what it was; Mugford's talking about writing to him reminded me of it. I'm awfully sorry, but there were some letters came for you chaps this morning. I took them off the table, meaning to give them to you; but I quite forgot, and left them in my desk."

"Well, you're a nice one!" cried Diggory. "Suppose you go and fetch 'em now!"

"Rats" scrambled to his feet and hurried out of the room.

Jack Vance pulled out his watch, and held it down so that the glimmer of the red light from between the bars of the stove fell upon its face.

"My word," he exclaimed, "it's time we thought about packing!"

"Wait a jiff for those letters," answered Diggory.

A moment later "Rats" came scampering down the passage. "Here they are," he cried; "I'm very sorry I forgot 'em. A letter for Mugford, and a paper for Vance."

Diggory relighted the gas-jet which he had turned out after boiling the kettle, and proceeded, with the assistance of "Rats," to gather up the remains of the feast. They had hardly, however, got further than emptying the tin kettle down the ventilator before their attention was attracted by a joyful exclamation from Jack Vance.

"What d'you think's happened?" he cried, brandishing the open newspaper. "Why, they've caught the thieves who stole old Fossberry's coins!"

"Not really!"

"They have, though. It was the old woman who looks after the house, and her husband; they're to be tried at the next assizes. They did it right enough; some of the coins were found in their possession, and—Hullo! what's the matter with you?"

The latter remark was addressed to Mugford, who suddenly jumped on a form, began to dance, fell off into the coal-box, scrambled to his feet, and capered wildly round the room.

"He's gone mad!" cried Diggory; "catch him, and sit on his head!"

"No, I haven't!" exclaimed Mugford, coming to a standstill; "but what do you think's happened? Guess!"

"Not that you're going to stay on here!"

"Yes! My uncle says he'll pay for me, and I'm to come back again after Christmas!"

"Well, I'm sure!" gasped Jack Vance; "and we've just dissolved the Alliance! We must make it again."

"No, you shan't!" shouted "Rats;" "Diggory said you wouldn't. I'm coming in, as Mugford suggested, so it'll have to be a quadruple one next time."

"Well, so it shall be," cried Jack Vance, embracing Mugford with the hugging power of a juvenile bear: "next term we'll start afresh."

Diggory and "Rats" promptly fell into each other's arms, and all four, coming into violent collision, tumbled down amidst the debris of the overturned coal-box; and after rolling over one another like a lot of young dogs, scrambled to their feet, turned out the gas, and rushed away to complete their packing.

So, as the door slams behind them, they vanish from our sight; for though the renewal of their friendship tempts us to follow them further in their school life, we are reminded that our story has been told. Here ended the existence of the Triple Alliance, and here, therefore, should the history of its trials and triumphs be likewise brought to a conclusion.

THE END