s when, during the next few days, it leaked
out somehow, and spread all over Templeton, that Heathcote had had a
letter from the ghost.

Interviewers waited on him from all quarters. Seniors cross-examined
him, Fifth-form fellows tried to coax the letter out of him, and the Den
called upon him, under threats of "Rule 5," to make a full disclosure of
what had befallen him. He had a fair chance of losing his head with all
the attention paid him; and, had it not been for Cresswell's advice,
emphasised by Dick, he might, like the ass in the lion's skin, have made
himself ridiculous. As it was, he was not more than ordinarily
intoxicated by his sudden notoriety, and kept the ghost's letter
prudently hidden in his own pocket.

One fellow, and one only besides Dick, saw it. And that was Pledge.

"What's all this about the ghost?" asked the senior of his fag one
evening during preparation in their study. "Is it true you've had a
letter?"

"Yes," said Heathcote, very uncomfortably.

"Do you mind letting me see it?"

"I'd rather not, please," said the boy.

"Don't you think it was meant for me to see?" asked Pledge.

Heathcote was puzzled. He had never thought so yet, and wished Dick was
at hand to be consulted.

"I don't think so," he said.

"It says, doesn't it, that you are to be on your guard against me, and
that I shall be sure and do you harm, and that the less you see of me
the better, eh?"

"Yes; have you seen the letter?"

"No, or I shouldn't ask to see it.--How would you like to have letters
written about you like that?"

"Not at all. Do you know who wrote it?"

"No. No one knows. And you believe it, of course?"

"No, I don't," said Heathcote, making up his mind at a bound on a
question which had been distracting him for a week.

Pledge seemed neither pleased nor surprised by this avowal.

"Doesn't everybody say you ought to?"

"Perhaps they do," said Heathcote, getting into a corner.

"Doesn't your chum say so?"

"He only goes by what other fellows say."

"You mean Cresswell?"

"I daresay Cresswell may have said something," said the new boy, getting
deeper and deeper, and beginning to shuffle in spite of himself.

"You _know_ he has said something," said Pledge, sternly. "The ghost
didn't tell you to tell falsehoods, did it?"

"No. Cresswell did say something."

"And you think it was very friendly of him, don't you?"

"No, I don't," said the unhappy Heathcote.

"Is Cresswe