entleman sportsman, also to have a chance of
drawing a favourite horse.

The hall was full of boys, and at the head of one of the long tables
stood the sporting interest, with a hat before them, in which were the
tickets folded up. One of them then began calling out the list of the
house. Each boy as his name was called drew a ticket from the hat, and
opened it; and most of the bigger boys, after drawing, left the hall
directly to go back to their studies or the fifth-form room. The
sporting interest had all drawn blanks, and they were sulky accordingly;
neither of the favourites had yet been drawn, and it had come down to
the upper-fourth. So now, as each small boy came up and drew his ticket,
it was seized and opened by Flashman, or some other of the standers-by.
But no great favourite is drawn until it comes to the Tadpole's turn,
and he shuffles up and draws, and tries to make off, but is caught, and
his ticket is opened like the rest.

"Here you are! Wanderer--the third favourite!" shouts the opener.

"I say, just give me my ticket, please," remonstrates Tadpole.

"Hullo! don't be in a hurry," breaks in Flashman; "what'll you sell
Wanderer for now?"

"I don't want to sell," rejoins Tadpole.

"Oh, don't you! Now listen, you young fool: you don't know anything
about it; the horse is no use to you. He won't win, but I want him as a
hedge. Now, I'll give you half a crown for him." Tadpole holds out, but
between threats and cajoleries at length sells half for one shilling and
sixpence--about a fifth of its fair market value; however, he is glad to
realize anything, and, as he wisely remarks, "Wanderer mayn't win, and
the tizzy is safe anyhow."

East presently comes up and draws a blank. Soon after comes Tom's turn.
His ticket, like the others, is seized and opened. "Here you are then,"
shouts the opener, holding it up--"Harkaway!--By Jove, Flashey, your
young friend's in luck."

"Give me the ticket," says Flashman, with an oath, leaning across the
table with open hand and his face black with rage.

"Wouldn't you like it?" replies the opener, not a bad fellow at the
bottom, and no admirer of Flashman. "Here, Brown, catch hold." And he
hands the ticket to Tom, who pockets it. Whereupon Flashman makes for
the door at once, that Tom and the ticket may not escape, and there
keeps watch until the drawing is over and all the boys are gone, except
the sporting set of five or six, who stay to compare books, make bets,