be worried by bad boys. Where are you going?"

"Nonsense! They would not dare---but I am going to think this out," said
Prout. "It needs thought. In intention they cribbed, and I must think
out my duty."

"He's perfectly capable of putting the boys on their honor. It's _I_
that am a fool." The Reverend John looked round remorsefully. "Never
again will I forget that a master is not a man. Mark my words," said the
Reverend John. "There will be trouble."

But by the yellow Tiber
Was tumult and affright.

Out of the blue sky (they were still rejoicing over the cat war) Mr.
Prout had dropped into Number Five, read them a lecture on the enormity
of cribbing, and bidden them return to the form-rooms on Monday. They
had raged, solo and chorus, all through the peaceful Sabbath, for their
sin was more or less the daily practice of all the studies.

"What's the good of cursing?" said Stalky at last. "We're all in the
same boat. We've got to go back and consort with the house. A locker
in the form-room, and a seat at prep. in Number Twelve." (He looked
regretfully round the cozy study which McTurk, their leader in matters
of Art, had decorated with a dado, a stencil, and cretonne hangings.)

"Yes! Heffy lurchin' into the form-rooms like a frowzy old retriever,
to see if we aren't up to something. You know he never leaves his house
alone, these days," said McTurk. "Oh, it will be giddy!"

"Why aren't you down watchin' cricket? I like a robust, healthy boy. You
mustn't frowst in a form-room. Why don't you take an interest in your
house? Yah!" quoted Beetle.

"Yes, why don't we? Let's! We'll take an interest in the house. We'll
take no end of interest in the house! He hasn't had us in the form-rooms
for a year. We've learned a lot since then. Oh, we'll make it a
be-autiful house before we've done! 'Member that chap in 'Eric' or 'St.
Winifred's'--Belial somebody? I'm goin' to be Belial," said Stalky, with
an ensnaring grin.

"Right O," said Beetle, "and I'll be Mammon. I'll lend money at
usury--that's what they do at all schools accordin' to the B.O.P. Penny
a week on a shillin'. That'll startle Heffy's weak intellect. You can be
Lucifer, Turkey."

"What have I got to do?" McTurk also smiled.

"Head conspiracies--and cabals--and boycotts. Go in for that 'stealthy
intrigue' that Heffy is always talkin' about. Come on!"

The house received them on their fall with the mixture of jest and
sympathy always extended to