et rid of the habits he learnt with street cads in the holidays of his
own accord, he'll have to be kicked out of them. We will wait for him
one day, and if we see him knock a School House straw off, my God, we
will boot him to blazes!"

"Right you are. It won't be bullying. It will be treating a dirty beast
in the only way he can understand."

About three days later, from their study window, they saw Hazlitt minor
proceeding to the notice-board after lunch. They left their study and
walked into the cloisters.

Hazlitt minor read the notices, discovered that, as he was posted on no
game, he must of necessity take himself to the "pick-up," and then
looked round. Davenham was conscientiously perusing a notice, although
there was no likelihood of his own name appearing on any. (It is almost
true to say that nobody looked at the board except the people about whom
there are no notices to read.) There was an announcement four days old
to the effect that C.J. Mansell had been presented with his First
Fifteen colours. Davenham seemed to find it vastly interesting. Hazlitt
stole up behind, and knocked his hat flying across the cloister. In a
second Gordon and Lovelace were on him. They did not care in the very
least what happened to Davenham. He played no part in their life. But a
School House man had been "cheeked" by a filthy little outhouse swab.
These aliens had to be taught their place.

"What do you mean by that, you awful tick?" shouted Lovelace. "Davenham,
go and fetch a hockey stick from Tester's study."

Hazlitt let out with his feet and caught Gordon on the ankle, but the
horrible hack he got in return quieted him.

Davenham appeared with a hockey stick.

Gordon managed to get Hazlitt's head between his knees, and Lovelace
began to give that worthy a beating he was never likely to forget. In a
few minutes he was blubbering for mercy. Fletcher passed by.

"Here you are, Archie," yelled Gordon; "come and have a shot at this
swine Hazlitt; we are teaching him that he can't go about knocking off
School House hats with impunity."

"Right you are, my lads."

By the time Archie had finished, Hazlitt had almost collapsed. Gordon
let him go, and with a hefty boot sent him flying into the cloisters.

"I don't think we shall have any more of him for a bit," said Lovelace,
with satisfaction.

"No; these outhouse lads want showing their place from time to time. The
School House, after all, is _the_ place. We are like