ome, you know."

"Who wants to write lots of letters home?" said Dig, whose
correspondence rarely exceeded two letters a term.

"Well, of course, you're not obliged," explained Simson seriously. "If
I drew Roaring Tommy--I mean," said he, correcting himself with a blush,
"if I drew the favourite, you know, and potted the sweep, I should turn
the stamps into tin."

"Is Roaring Tommy the favourite, then?" asked Tilbury.

"Yes. I oughtn't to have let it out. I told Mills I wouldn't; because
it might get his father into a row. Mills says he's dead certain to
win. I say, shall you fellows go in?"

"I don't mind," said Tilbury, "as it's not money. Any fellow sell me
six stamps?"

"Yes, for sevenpence," said Arthur. "I'm not going in, young Simson.
My governor said to me the chances were some young blackleg or other
would be on to me to shell out something for a swindle of the kind; and
he said, `Don't you do it.' Besides, I've not got the money."

"I could lend you six stamps," said Simson, who was very keen on the
scheme, and failed to see any point in Arthur's other remarks.

"Not good enough," said Arthur.

"Not much chance of scoring, either," said Dig, "if there's about twenty
go in and only one wins."

"Just as likely you win it as anybody else," said Simson.

"Come on, you needn't funk it. Lots of fellows are in--Felgate's in."

Arthur whistled.

"He's a prefect," said he.

"Of course he is, and he doesn't see any harm in it."

"Who else?" asked Arthur.

"Rogers, and Munger, and Sherriff."

"A first eleven chap," ejaculated Dig.

"Lots of others. There's twelve names already out of twenty-one. No!
thirteen, counting Tilbury. It'll be too late to do it to-morrow."

Arthur looked at Dig and Dig looked at Arthur. Twenty-one sixpences
were ten shillings and sixpence, and ten shillings and sixpence would
buy a new bat,--at a cost of six stamps. His father had warned him
against gambling with money, but had said nothing about postage-stamps.
And the cautions Dig had received against all "evil ways" did not even
specify gambling at all.

Simson took out his list and wrote Tilbury's name, and then waited for
Arthur's decision.

"May as well," said Dig.

"Wait till to-morrow," said Arthur, who still felt qualms.

"You'll be too late then," said Simson.

"All right--that'll settle it then," said Arthur.

"Felgate said he thought you'd be sure to go in," urged the tempter.

"Did he?