next.

"Well," said Jack, "we've got a prisoner of war now, and no mistake.
What shall we do with the beggar? go for a policeman?"

"No, we don't want to get the chap sent to prison."

"If we tell Aunt Mab she'll let him go, and he ought to be punished."

"Of course he does--young villain! It's like his cheek coming here and
bagging all the fruit."

"I have it!" said Jack, suddenly struck with a bright idea. "We'll
lick him!"

Valentine hesitated. "I don't like setting on a chap two against one,"
he answered. "I don't mind a stand-up fight."

"Well, that's what I mean," answered Jack joyously. "Look here!" he
continued, hammering on the door of the shed--"look here, you inside
there! I'm going to punch your head for stealing those pears. If you
like to come out I'll fight you, and then you can go; if not, you can
stay where you are. Will you come?"

"Yes," answered the prisoner sullenly.

Twenty years ago a fight was not quite such a rare occurrence at
Melchester School as it would be to-day. Jack threw off his coat with
alacrity.

"Now, Val, you watch; and if the beggar tries to bolt, you leg him
down."

With a dogged look the stranger took up his ground, and on the signal
being given for the commencement of hostilities, lowered his head, and
made a wild rush at his antagonist. The latter stepped aside, and
greeted him with a smart cuff on the side of the head. Once more the
visitor came on like a runaway windmill, but this time Jack walked
backward and refused the encounter.

"Oh, look here," he cried, in an injured tone, "can't you do any better
than that? Can't you stand up and hit straight? Don't you know how to
box?"

"No."

"Well, what's the good of saying you'll come out and fight? What's
your name?"

"Joe Crouch."

"Well then, Joseph, you'd better take your hook. There's your old
basket, only just leave those pears behind; and don't come here again,
or we'll set the bobby on your track."

Crouch marched off, evidently astonished at finding himself at liberty
to depart. When he reached the gate, he turned, and touched his cap.
"Morning, gen'lemen," he said, and so disappeared. Valentine laughed,
and regarded his cousin with a queer look in his face.

"You are a rum fellow, Jack; you're always wanting to fight somebody.
When you get two fellows against you like Garston and Rosher, you go at
it like a tiger; and then another time, just because you get hold of a
chap who