o go and speak with him in his study.

His sentence was as short as it was astounding "Heathcote, in future you
fag for Swinstead, not Pledge. Good-night."

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.

WHICH TREATS OF LAW AND JUSTICE.

While Pledge was dressing on the following morning, the Captain's fag
brought him a note.

"There's no answer," said the junior, tossing it down on the table, and
departing, whistling. Pledge opened it and read:--

"As you are determined to defy the rules, and make others do the same, I
send this note to say Heathcote is no longer your fag, and that you will
have to do without one for the future. I also wish to say that unless
you are prepared to abide by school rules, it will save trouble if you
send in your resignation as a monitor at once.--E. M."

His first impulse on reading this letter was to laugh, and toss the
paper contemptuously into the hearth. But on second thoughts, his
amusement changed to wrath, not quite unmixed with dismay.

He knew well enough last night, when he sent Heathcote out, that he was
bringing matters between himself and the Captain to an issue. And he
had been too curious to see what Mansfield's next move would be, to
calculate for himself on what it was likely to be. And now he felt
himself hit in his weakest point.

Not that the "Spider" was desperately in love with Heathcote. As long
as that volatile youth had owned his allegiance and proved amenable to
his influence, so long had Pledge liked the boy and set store by his
companionship.

But lately Heathcote had been coming out in an unsatisfactory light.

For no apparent reason he had upset all his patron's calculations, and
spoiled all his carefully arranged plans, by going over to Dick and
placing Pledge in the ridiculous position of a worsted rival to that
noisy young hero. And, as if that were not enough, he had let himself
be used by the Captain as a means of dealing a further blow. For, when
Pledge came to think of it, Heathcote had made prompt use of his new
liberty to absent himself from his senior's chamber that very morning.

He left his study door open, and watched the passage sharply for the
deserter.

He saw him at last, labouring under a huge pile of books, which he was
carrying to his new lord's study.

"Ah, Georgie!" cried Pledge, with studied friendliness, "you'll drop
that pile, if you try to carry all at once. Put some down here, and
make two loads of it. So you've been promote