e entirely lost, and that the meeting would bring about a still more
hostile attitude on the part of the rank and file towards those in
authority.

The Thurstonians, however, attempting to make the most of this temporary
triumph, met with an unexpected disaster, which quickly turned the
changing tide of public opinion.

During a momentary pause in the hubbub which followed Thurston's
address, Fletcher senior, with the usual smile upon his face, began to
speak.

"Thurston has just said that as regards these rows the fault lies with
the prefects, and that they are culpable in trying to shift the blame on
to other fellows without first getting sufficient evidence to warrant
their so doing. As one of the prefects, I think it only fair to myself
to mention that I was not in favour of this meeting being called.
I suggested to my friend Allingford that this matter should be allowed
to rest until some inquiries had been made--"

"Stop!" cried the captain sternly. The two lines were deepening between
his eyebrows, and the corners of his mouth were drawn down. The boys
had seen that look before, as he stood at the wicket when runs were few
and the bowling dangerous. "Stop! Speak the truth: you're not my
friend."

"Allingford says we are not friends," continued the speaker, with the
same eternal smile upon his lips. "I'm sorry to hear it. I know I've
always tried to be his friend, ever--"

"You're lying!" interrupted the other sharply. "Take care, or I'll
prove it!"

There was a dead silence all over the room. Fletcher did not know what
was coming, and though he felt uneasy, he had gone too far to go back.

"I can't understand," he began, "why you should have this unkind feeling
towards me. I can only repeat, in spite of what you say, that I _am_
your friend."

"Very well," returned the other, with an angry flash in his eyes, "as it
was partly an attack on myself, I had meant to have said nothing about
it; but since you persist in your miserable hypocrisy, I'll expose
you.--You remember," he continued, turning to the audience, and speaking
with a ring of bitter scorn in his voice, "that paltry rhyme that was
fastened on the notice-board after the Town match? Well, allow me to
introduce you to the author of it. He was too modest to sign his name
to it, but here he is, all the same--a fellow who tries to bring
ridicule and contempt on his own side; who stabs a man in the dark, and
in the daylight professes to