ho stood round. A fair field and no favour! A ring
was formed, and as my heart beat rapidly on towards the critical moment,
these two strained every nerve to get the advantage for his side before
"time" should be called.

"Bravo, our man!" cried one. "Stick to it, Newcome!" shouted others.
"Now you have it, Halliday!" called out a third. Never was duel before
the walls of Troy more desperate. The crowd burst in onto the field and
thronged round, foremost among whom Jim's aunt's voice was heard crying
out shrilly,--

"Well, I never, it's James and Mr Newcome, my love. How hot they are!"

It was evident the contest in which the two youths were engaged was one
not destined to end before time was up. I pointed to within half a
minute of the fated hour--and it would take far longer than that for
even so powerful a champion as Jim to wrest the ball from Charlie's
defiant grasp. The timekeeper turned away from the rivals and held me
up. On went my hand, and on went the struggle.

"Now, Newcome; one tug more?"

"Bravo, our man! You'll do it yet!"

"Time's up! No side!"

Then rose those two from the earth, and immediately the astonished Jim
felt himself embraced before the whole multitude by his aunt.

"Well, James, and how do you feel after it all?"

"Hungry," replied Jim.

So ended the famous match. After that Jim had no more trouble from his
uncle and aunt on the subject of athletics, which they were fain to
admit were a branch of science beyond their comprehension.

Charlie started that same night for London, with the intention of making
one more effort to help Tom Drift at all hazards. I, meanwhile, was
restored to the possession of my lawful owner, who returned to his
studies in the "Mouse-trap"; sitting up all night, I am sorry to say, to
make up for the loss of the day.

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.

HOW GEORGE READER WENT UP FOR HIS FINAL EXAMINATION AND LEFT ME BEHIND
HIM.

"Old man, you're overdoing it!"

These words were uttered by Jim Halliday, one evening two years after
the events related in our last chapter, to his friend George Reader, as
the two sat together in Jim's rooms at Saint George's.

Time had wrought changes with both. My master had secured the
scholarship for which he had worked so hard during his first year's
residence, and no longer inhabited the "Mouse-trap." His present
quarters were the rooms immediately above those in which he was at this
moment sitting, and it is