the former gave
any sign of being aware of the presence of the trio. He then honoured
them with a casual survey as they stood back to let him enter first.

"New kids?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Westover's?"

"Yes."

The hero grunted and passed in, and they heard him shouting to the
matron to ask if his traps had come from the station, and whether
anybody had come yet.

Anybody come! He didn't count them, that was plain.

Not knowing exactly what to do, they determined on another walk round
the Quad, preferring to be reconnoitred by the enemy in the open, and
not indoors--possibly in a corner.

The enemy reconnoitred in force. After the first arrival, boys dropped
in in twos and threes, in cabs, in omnibuses, in high spirits, in low
spirits. The old square began to get lively. The echoes which had
slept soundly for the past fortnight woke up suddenly, and the rooks in
the elms began to grow uneasy, and summoned a cabinet council to discuss
what was going on in the lower world.

"Hallo, Duff, old man," cried one boy near to our heroes, as he caught
sight of a chum across the square. "Seen Raggles?"

"Yes; he's got a cargo down. He's asked me."

"Tell him I'm up, will you?"

"What's a cargo?" asked Heathcote, as the speaker went past.

"Goodness knows," said Dick--"perhaps it's a crib."

"My brother Will used to call a hamper a cargo," said Aspinall.

"Humph," said Dick, who never liked to be corrected, "there's something
in that."

"I hope there is," said Heathcote.

It said a great deal for the solemnity of the occasion that Dick did not
at once proceed to administer condign punishment. He took note of the
offence, though, and punished the offender quietly in bed some days
after. Just at the present moment, had he been inclined to square
accounts, he had no leisure; for a sudden cry of "Dredger!" was raised,
whereat they noticed a number of boys step off the pavement on to the
grass. Before they could conjecture what this sudden manoeuvre might
mean, a rush of steps arose behind, and next moment they were caught up
in the toils of a net constructed of towels knotted together, stretching
across the path, and held at each end by two swift runners who swept
them along at a headlong pace, catching up a shoal of stray fish on the
way until even the stalwart dredgers were compelled, from the very
weight of their "take," to slacken speed.

A crowd collected to witness the emptying of the net. One by