hem.

"You lunatics! You're giving them twenty fresh chances at once!" cried
Jack desperately. "They can squeeze you into surrendering directly!"

"I believe he's right!" muttered Bacon, and they strove to get free
again.

But it was not easy to rid themselves of the table when once they were
ranked behind it. The boarders saw their opportunity, and a last fierce
combat began.

Something--Jack never knew what it was--suddenly impelled him to dive
under the table.

"Oh, Jack, we don't fight underground!" exclaimed Cadbury mockingly; but
Jack paid no heed.

Cadbury was wrong; there was a very definite attack being made beneath
cover of the table, where it was least suspected. An attack, too, of a
kind that would have been thought impossible.

It was very dark under there, but Jack was at once certain that he was
not the only hider from the light. A small, lithe figure was wriggling
along the floor in front of him, passing one pair of legs after another,
but scanning each in turn.

Jack's hand was almost upon it. The words "This isn't fair play!" were
bursting from his lips, when the figure ceased to crawl. It was opposite
a pair of ribbed brown stockings clothing two sturdy legs, when it
stopped, and drew something forth from somewhere about its person.

At sight of this, a chill of horror seemed to freeze Jack, and for the
moment he was struck dumb. Stiffly he put forward a hand which seized,
as in a grip of iron, the thin right arm of the figure before him. It
was the arm of the March Hare, and in its hand was an open penknife.

The sudden clutch was wholly unexpected, and the knife dropped. With his
other hand Jack picked it up. As he did so, the March Hare uttered a
cry. It was neither loud nor long, but there was something so startling
in it that the commotion of the fight ceased suddenly, and in the midst
of a strange stillness Jack emerged, dragging his captive by one hand,
and holding the open penknife in the other.

[Illustration]

If a white flag had been raised, the battle could not have ended more
abruptly. For a few seconds nothing was heard but quick, short breaths
on all sides. Presently Hallett's voice, hoarse and low, asked:

"What does it mean, Brady?"

Jack, white to the lips, pointed from the Hare to Armitage, then to the
spot where he had found him. The Hare was shivering and sobbing.

"Hallett--I hear you say knifes--war wiz knifes! I on'y go to ze
Toppeen-drowner. I not wasn' goin