rk ... too late!

The crumbling edge was giving way under his hands, under his body. No
time for terror. His jerk gave the finishing touch....

Down he went--over and over; his Sunday hat bouncing gaily on before;
nothing to clutch anywhere; but by good luck, no stones----

The thought flashed through him, "I'm killed!" And five seconds later he
rolled--breathless and sputtering--to the feet of the two remaining
boys, who had sprung back just in time to escape the dusty avalanche.

There he lay--shaken and stupefied--his eyes and mouth full of sand; and
his pockets and boots and the inside of his shirt. Nothing seemed to be
broken. And he wasn't killed!

Some one was flicking the sand from his face; and he opened his eyes to
find the deliverer kneeling beside him, amazed and concerned.

"I say, that was a pretty average tumble! What sort of a lark were you
up to? Are you hurt?"

"Only bumped a bit," Roy panted, still out of breath. "I spec' it
startled you. I'm sorry."

The bareheaded one laughed. "You startled the Scab's minions a jolly
sight more. Cleared the course! And a rare good riddance--eh,
Chandranath?"

To that friendly appeal the Indian boy vouchsafed a muttered assent. He
stood a little apart, looking sullen, irresolute, and thoroughly
uncomfortable, the marks of tears still on his face.

"Thanks veree much. I am going now," he blurted out abruptly; and Roy
felt quite cross with him. Pity had evaporated. But the other boy's
good-humour seemed unassailable.

"If you're not in a frantic hurry, we can go back together."

Chandranath shook his head. "I don't wish--to go back. I would
rather--be by myself."

"As you please. Those cads won't bother you again."

"If they do--I will _kill_ them."

He made that surprising announcement in a fierce whisper. It was the
voice of another race.

And the English boy's answer was equally true to type. "Right you are.
Give me fair warning and I'll lend a hand."

Chandranath stared blankly. "But--they are of _your_ country," he said;
and turning, walked off in the opposite direction.

"A queer fish," Roy's new friend remarked. "Quite out of water here.
Awfully stupid sending him to an English school."

"Why?" asked Roy. He was sitting up and dusting himself generally.

"Oh, because----" the boy frowned pensively at the horizon. "That takes
some explaining, if you don't know India."

"D'_you_ know India?" Roy could not keep the eagerness out of his ton