of those wretched Gargoyles eat
humble pie under the very flag they were so proud of? So amongst them
they designed an appropriate costume for the "Mystic Order of Beetles,"
and the meeting-place and dressing-room were arranged in the barn.

So the society was started. Having started it, the next thing was to
capture some of the enemy. In order to accomplish this interesting
purpose, a band of scouts was established for the purpose of reporting
on the movements of the enemy at the first favourable opportunity. It so
happened that this was on the very day that Paul went to Wyndham to make
inquiries about the flag.

The scouts were rather disappointed when they found, from their post of
observation on the other side of the hedge, that the boy making his way
to St. Bede's was Percival. There had been already one trial of strength
with him which had not been entirely successful. Besides which Wyndham
had championed his cause, and they were bound to respect Wyndham's
opinion. Furthermore, the fame of Paul's heroism had reached St. Bede's,
as the reader has seen, and they had lost their former contempt for him.
They were therefore on the point of turning disconsolately away when
their eyes were gladdened by the sight of Plunger and Harry following
Paul.

Here were the prizes they had longed for. The enemy was delivered into
their hands.

So the scouts had carried off their prisoners to the barn, where their
comrades were waiting them. What followed we have seen.

Plunger and Harry looked on the extraordinary circle which surrounded
them in wonder. No word fell from the Beetles. They stood perfectly
still, as though enjoying the surprise which their extraordinary
appearance had created in the breast of their prisoners.

"I say, you are a rum lot!" Plunger at length burst out. "Mystic Order
of Beetles! Ha, ha!"

He burst into a wild fit of laughter, but his laughter was suddenly
checked by a resounding thud upon the shoulders. He then discovered that
the Beetles standing around him were armed with sheepskin bladders
attached to sticks. They did not hurt much, but the noise they made was
considerable.

"Silence! Thy mirth is unseemly," came from the chief of the circle, who
was no other than Mellor. "Remember, that thou hast been admitted to the
Mystic Order of Beetles, and hast promised by the sacred emblem above
thee to be true to the cause."

The sacred emblem above! The prisoners looked up. There was a flag
hangi