to with ecstacy by a crowd of a dozen, who
hailed the promises and threats of the prisoner with shouts of mocking
laughter.

W.E. Grim, Esq., explained to a few of his particular chums, Rogers
among them, the wonderful shooting he was going to have "up at Acton's
place" in Yorkshire, and they listened with visible envy.

"Look here, Grimmy, if you tell us next term that you bagged two
woodcock with one barrel, we'll boot you all round Biffen's yard--so
there."

Acton had, as a matter of fact, invited Dick Worcester, Gus Todd, Jack
Senior, of Merishall's house, and Grim, to spend Christmas with him at
his mother's place, and they had all accepted with alacrity.

The northern express rolled into the station, and Grim was hurriedly
informed by Rogers that he was to bag the end carriage for Acton under
pain of death. Grim tore down the platform, and, encouraged by the
cheerful Rogers, performed prodigies of valour, told crams to groups of
disgusted Amorians, who went sighing to search elsewhere for room,
engaged in single combat with one of Sharpe's juniors, and generally
held the fort. And then, when Acton came running down, and wanted to
know what the deuce he was keeping him waiting for, Grim realized that
Rogers had "done" him to a turn. He shouted weird threats as he was
hurried away, to the bubbling Rogers, and that young gentleman lifted
his hat in ironical acknowledgment. There was the warning shriek from
the engine, and then the train crawled out, taking toll of all the
Amorians going north, and leaving the others to shout after them
endearing epithets and clinching witticisms.

For two days before the Amorians were on the wing home there had been
heavy falls of snow, culminating, on the going-away day, in a heavy
snow-storm. All the way from St. Amory's the express had been held up by
doubtful signals, and in the deeper cuttings the snow had piled up in
huge drifts. The express had toiled on its northern journey, steadily
losing time at every point. At Preston Acton had telegraphed home that
probably they would arrive quite three hours late. Thus it was that,
tired but jolly, the party of five Amorians got out of the main line
express at Lowbay, and, each laden with rugs and magazines, stumbled
light-heartedly across the snow-sodden platform into the local train,
which had waited for the express nearly three hours. They found
themselves sixteen miles from home, and with no prospect of reaching it
before midn