"everybody thinks you must take after your
mother; you're such a sweet-tempered chap."

"What do you know about my mother?" snarled Tom.

"Only what your young friend tells everybody about her."

"What business has he to go talking all over the school about my
affairs?" exclaimed Tom furiously. "What's my mother to do with him?"

"A great deal, it seems," replied Margetson, "for he promised her, on
the strength of her assertion that you were a nice boy, to be your
friend, and now he's awfully hurt you won't let him."

"I thought it was Tom who was awfully hurt," put in Gus, by way of
parenthesis.

"I tell you what it is, you fellows," said Tom, "it may be all very
funny for you, but I've had quite enough of it. Ever since that young
canting humbug came here I've led the life of a dog. If, instead of
making a fool of me, you'd tell me how I can pay him out, I should be
better pleased."

"All very fine," said Margetson; "why don't you pay your own bills?"

"If you want some one to punch his head," said Shadbolt the ugly, "I
don't mind trying; my life is insured."

"Suppose we make him stupid," suggested Gus, "with milk punch, and shove
him inside the doctor's study."

"Couldn't you get hold of his watch and boil it?" said Margetson, who
had heard of the experiments practised on me in Mrs Packer's parlour.

"If I got hold of it I'd smash it into fifty pieces!" growled Tom
between his teeth.

"Look here, you fellows, I've got a glorious plan!" exclaimed Gus
suddenly.

"What is it?" they all cried.

But Gus's plan requires a new chapter.

CHAPTER SEVEN.

HOW A PLEASANT TREAT IN STORE WAS PREPARED FOR MY MASTER.

Gus proceeded then to divulge his plan for giving Tom Drift his revenge
on my master.

"Let's take him to Gurley races on Saturday," said he. "You know it's a
holiday, and if we can only get him with us, well astonish his
sanctimonious young soul. What do you say?"

"You'll never get him to come," said Margetson.

"Won't we? Well see about that," replied Gus, "he needn't know where
he's going."

"But even so," said Drift, "you won't get him; he's not in love with me,
and I don't fancy any of you are much in his line."

"Oh, you'll have to manage that part, Tom. You know how the young
idiot's pining to make it up with you, for your dear old mother's sake!"

"Now you needn't start that nonsense again," put in Tom sulkily.

"All right; but don't you see, if you were to take a f