s made so
much of before. "What was the cipher?"--"How did they find it out?"--
these and a hundred other questions were continually being dinned in
their ears, coupled with slaps on the back, ejaculations of "Well
done!"--"You're a precious sharp lot!" and many other expressions of
approval.

At the close of this eventful day two things alone remained vividly
impressed upon their minds.

The first was an interview with Allingford and Oaks in the former's
study.

"Well," said the captain, "you kids have done us a good turn. We were
in a precious awkward box, and I don't know how we should have got out
of it if it hadn't been for you."

"Yes," added Oaks: "I was never more surprised at anything in my life
than when Trevanock said he knew who'd done the business. It made old
Denson open his eyes."

"So it did," continued Allingford; "and if it hadn't come out, the whole
school would have got into another precious row, and there'd have been a
stop put to the Wraxby match. I tell you what. You youngsters thought
it sneaking to let out what you knew; in my opinion you'd have been
jolly sneaks if you'd shielded those blackguards, and allowed everyone
else to suffer. Well, as I said before, you've done is a good turn, and
as long as we're at Ronleigh together we shan't forget you."

The second thing which lodged in the recollection of the three friends
was a look which Noaks had bestowed upon them as he passed out of the
doctor's study.

"Did you see his face?" said Diggory. "He looked as if he could have
killed us. He's never forgiven us since that time he was turned off the
football field for striking you at The Birches."

"No," added Jack Vance; "and then we were the means of old Noaks getting
the sack over those fireworks; and that reminds me he's always had a
grudge against me for letting out that time that his father was a
servant man; and now there's this last row. Oh yes! he'll do his best
now to get us into a bother over that knife of Mugford's."

"Of course he will," answered Diggory; "that's what he meant by glaring
at us as he did."

"I don't care!" exclaimed Jack Vance, with forced bravado; "he can't
prove we stole the coins."

"Of course he can't," sighed Mugford; "but if there's a row it'll rather
spoil our Christmas."

CHAPTER XXII.

WHEN SHALL WE THREE MEET AGAIN?

The Wraxby match was played and won. Allingford and his men journeyed
to the neighbouring town, so gaming the a