ter having gone the round and seen that all lights were out,
and all doors and bolts fastened--"we shall have to settle to-morrow
what to say to them about coming out, you fellows."

"I thought that was left to the captain," said Hawkesbury.

"I vote we stick out against the Henniker having anything to do with
us," said Philpot, "in or out of school."

"Yes, and do away with afternoon school and preparation too," said
Rathbone; "they are both nuisances."

"And get a holiday to go out of bounds once a week," said Flanagan in
the act of dropping asleep.

These sweeping schemes of reform, however, agreeable as they sounded,
seemed none of them likely to receive the assent of our prisoners.

Smith's idea was a good deal more moderate. "I don't see that we can
stick out for more than leave to talk when we are not in class, and do
away with `detentions.'"

"That really seems hardly worth all the trouble," said Hawkesbury, "does
it?"

"It's left to the captain," said Smith, shortly, "and that's my idea, if
you agree."

"We ought to bargain they don't take any more notice of this affair, or
write home about it," suggested Shankley.

"Who cares what they write home?" scornfully inquired Smith.

"Ah, it may not matter to _you_," said Hawkesbury, smiling very sweetly,
"but to all the rest of us it does."

Smith glared at the speaker, and looked as if he was about to fly at his
throat; but he controlled himself, and merely replied, "Very well, then,
they are to promise not to say anything about it at home, as well as
give in on the other things. Is that settled?"

Everybody said "yes," and shortly afterwards most of the mutineers were
peacefully asleep.

"Fred," said Smith to me that night, as we kept watch together, "unless
that fellow Hawkesbury lets me alone I shall give the thing up."

"Don't do that," said I. "Really, I don't think that Hawkesbury means
it. I'll speak to him if you like." It cost me a great effort to say
this.

Smith fired up unwontedly at the suggestion.

"If you do, you and I will never be friends again," he said,
passionately. Then recovering himself, he added, repentantly, "Fred,
I'm awfully sorry I lost my temper. I know I'm a brute; but please
don't think of speaking to any one about it."

"All right, old man," said I.

And so the night wore on, and when presently it came to be our turn to
lie down and sleep in the big bed, I, at any rate, did so a good deal
disturbed in m