son stared, half in astonishment, half in anger. "You're too
fast, young sir; you'll have to be put down, I see," said he. But he
did not give Reginald his knife again.

School was indeed a new world to Reginald. He made friends and found
enemies; he worked hard--indeed, often sat up by candle-light to
prepare examples for the next day. He played well, and on the whole
was tolerably popular. Thompson, however, still kept the knife, using
it upon all occasions, which caused a thrill of indignation to go
through Reginald's delicate frame.

"If I can't get it one way, I will another," thought he; and he
brooded over the knife until he magnified every word that Thompson
said into a series of insults to himself, and Thompson, pleased with
the power he possessed over the boy, exercised it on all occasions.

So the spring went by, and the summer came, and the days slipped away,
and the holidays were close at hand.

"If I were strong enough, I would fight him for it," said Reginald to
Barton, one day, when Thompson had been more than usually aggravating.

The remark was repeated to Thompson, who was standing by the side of
the river that ran at the foot of the playground.

At that moment Reginald drew near.

"So you would like to fight me if you were big enough?" said he, with
a sneer.

"I should!" answered Reginald, warmly.

"Ah! it's a bad state of feeling. If the knife causes such wicked
thoughts, the best way is to get rid of it. So here it goes, and there
is an end of it!" And drawing the knife from his pocket, he flung it
into the river. It fell short of where he intended, and Reginald saw
his beloved knife through the clear river, lying within what he
supposed to be an easy reach. Without a moment's thought he jumped in
after it, regardless of the cry that rose, "The water's deeper than it
looks!"

His hand had, as if by instinct, grasped the knife, but as he tried to
struggle back through the swiftly-running water he got confused, for,
as the boys had called out to him, it was a great deal deeper than it
looked, and just there the ground shelved suddenly, and Reginald,
taking a false step, lost his footing.

There was a general outcry, which brought Dr. Field and a visitor who
had just arrived to the spot:

"Murray's in the river!"

And they pointed to the spot where the poor boy had sunk.

With such a cry as the boys long remembered, the visitor had plunged
into the water, and had caught the boy, who