an't fight
him myself. But I say, you will give him another licking, please?"

"Well, we'll see," said Glyn. "I dare say he'll make me before I have
done."

"That's right," cried little Burton joyously; and he began to busy
himself in putting his mice together, as he called it, and hooking the
wire fastening before shutting up and closing the lid of his desk, while
it was quite a different face that looked up into Glyn's, as the boy
cried: "There, it doesn't hurt half as much now."

"If I were you I'd go and wash my face," said Glyn.

"What; is it dirty?"

"Oh, it's all knuckled and rubbed. You must have been crying ever so
long; your eyes are quite swelled. There, be off. I want to write my
letter."

While Glyn had been earnestly engaged comforting Burton and before he
started his letter, he had not observed the return of Singh with his
pockets looking bulgy and his face wearing a good-tempered smile.

"Done?" he said, as Burton took his departure.

"What, you back again?" cried Glyn. "I thought I should have been in
time enough to come and meet you. If you had been another quarter of an
hour I should."

"What; did you mean to come?" cried Singh joyously.

"Of course."

"Oh, you are a good chap! Here, come on up to our room. Look here."

He slapped his pockets as he spoke, and half-held open that of his
jacket, the thought of the succulent treasures contained therein having
completely swept away all his past ill-humour.

"Oh, I don't know that I want anything to-night," said Glyn.--"Yes, I
do. I want to find little Burton. After we had gone away to-day Slegge
kicked him brutally."

"What for?" cried Singh indignantly.

"Because he wouldn't bring an insulting message to fetch us back."

"Oh!" cried Singh. "And you wouldn't stop and lick him! He'll get
worse and worse. Poor little chap! I like Burton."

"So do I," said Glyn rather coldly.

"What makes you speak like that?" asked Singh.

"I was thinking about what I ought to do."

"To do? What do you mean?"

"About giving him such a hiding as he deserves--that is, if I can."

"Oh, you can," cried Singh joyously; "and you will now, won't you?"

"Well, I wasn't going to because he was insolent to me; but now he's
been such a brute to that poor little chap I feel as if I ought to--and
I will."

But somehow that encounter did not come off, and possibly the
recollection of the active little white quadrupeds that were closely
cage