and
it occurred to him, on reviewing it, that he had made a mistake. It
was, of course, extremely painful and humiliating to have to acknowledge
it; but, once acknowledged, it would have been far more humiliating to
Mr Ashford's sense of honour to persist in it.

He summoned the boys once more to his presence, and they trooped in like
three prisoners brought up on remand to hear their final sentence.

The master's mouth twitched nervously, and he half repented of the
ordeal he had set before himself.

"You said just now, Richardson, that the punishment I proposed to
inflict on you was not fair?"

"Yes, sir, we think so," replied Dick, simply.

"I think so, too," said Mr Ashford, equally simply, "and I shall say no
more about it. Now you can go."

The boys gaped at him in mingled admiration and bewilderment.

"You can go," repeated the master.

Richardson took a hasty survey of his companions' countenances, and
said--

"Will you cane us instead, please sir?"

"No, Richardson, that would not be fair either."

Richardson made one more effort.

"Please, sir, we think we deserve something."

"People don't always get their deserts in this world, my boy," said the
master, with a smile. "Now please go when I tell you."

Mr Ashford rallied three waverers to his standard that morning. They
didn't profess to understand the meaning of it all, but they could see
that the master had sacrificed something to do them justice, and with
the native chivalry of boys, they made his cause theirs, and did all
they could to cover his retreat.

Two days later, a letter by the post was brought in to Mr Ashford in
the middle of school.

Coote's face grew crimson as he saw it, and the faces of his companions
grew long and solemn. A sudden silence fell on the room, broken only by
the rustle of the paper as the master tore open the envelope and
produced the printed document. His eyes glanced hurriedly down it, and
a shade of trouble crossed his brow.

"We're gone coons," groaned Heathcote.

"Don't speak to me," said Dick.

Coote said nothing, but wished one of the windows was open on a hot day
like this.

"This paper contains the result of the entrance examination at
Templeton," said Mr Ashford. "Out of thirty-six candidates, Heathcote
has passed fifteenth, and Richardson twenty-first. Coote, I am sorry to
say, has not passed."

CHAPTER THREE.

HOW OUR HEROES GIRD ON THEIR ARMOUR.

Our heroes, each in the