ll's quill
pens with his teeth; "but what?"

"You're so good-natured," said Aspinall, "fellows make you do things you
wouldn't do of your own accord."

"Who makes me do things?" demanded Dick, sternly.

"I don't know," pleaded the boy, feeling that this sort of tight-rope
dancing was not in his line; "perhaps some of your friends in the Fourth
and Fifth. But I may be all wrong."

"What do they make me do?" said Dick.

"They make you," said Aspinall, feeling that it was no use trying to
keep his balance any longer, and that he might as well throw down his
pole and tumble into the net; "they make you break rules and get into
rows, Dick, because you see it goes down with them, and they cheer you
for it. You wouldn't do that of your own accord."

"How do you know that?"

"I don't think you would," said the boy.

If any one had told Aspinall, ten minutes ago, he would be talking to
Dick in this strain, he would have scouted the idea as a bit of chaff.
As it was, he could hardly believe he had said as much as he had, and
waited, in an uncomfortable sort of way, for Dick's next remark.

"Oh! that's what you think, is it?"

"Please don't be angry," pleaded the boy, "you asked me."

"What about Heathcote?" demanded Dick, abruptly, after a pause.

"What do you mean, Dick?"

"I mean, is he making a mess of it, too?"

"Oh, Dick; I never said you were making a mess, of it."

"Well, then, is Heathcote being led astray?"

"I don't know. He seems different; and talks funnily about things."

"Does what? I never heard Georgie talk funnily about things, and I've
known him a good bit. Who's leading him astray? Am I?"

Poor Aspinall was on the tight-rope again, at the most ticklish part.
For he did think Dick was running Heathcote into mischief,
unintentionally, no doubt, but still unmistakably, "Am I?" repeated
Dick, rounding on his man, and fixing him with his eyes.

"Heathcote's not so strong-minded as you are, Dick, and when he sees you
doing things, I fancy he thinks he can do them too. But he can't pull
up like you, and so he gets into rows."

"Oh!" said Dick, returning to his quill pen, and completing its
demolition. Then he pulled out the letter, and read it to himself
again, and this time, instead of returning it to his pocket, twisted it
up into a spill, and lit the gas with it.

"What should you say was the English of 'Dominat qui in se dominatur,'
young 'un," he asked, casually, when the operati