you off--I must keep my word!" Tom cried, sobbed, and
implored in vain. "I can't help it," he said, "and now, don't howl! I
had rather no one knew it. It will soon be over. I never thought to have
this to do to one of us." Tom roared and struggled, till, releasing
him, he said, "There, that will do. Stop bellowing, I was obliged, and I
can't have hurt you much, have I?" he added more kindly, while Tom went
on crying, and turning from him. "It is nothing to care about, I am
sure; look up;" and he pulled down his hands. "Say you are sorry--speak
the truth--keep with me, and no one shall hurt you again."

Very different this from Tom's chosen associates; but he was still
obdurate, sullen, and angry, and would not speak, nor open his heart to
those kind words. After one more, "I could not help it, Tom, you've no
business to be sulky," Norman took up the bottle, opened it, smelled,
and tasted, and was about to throw it into the river; when Tom
exclaimed, "Oh, don't, don't! what will they do to me? give it to me!"

"Did they give you the money to pay for it?"

"Yes; let me have it."

"How much was it?"

"Fourpence."

"I'll settle that," and the bottle splashed in the river. "Now then,
Tom, don't brood on it any more. Here's a chance for you of getting quit
of their errands. If you will keep in my sight. I'll take care no one
bullies you, and you may still leave off these disgraceful tricks, and
do well."

But Tom's evil spirit whispered that Norman had beaten him, that he
should never have any diversion again, and that Anderson would punish
him; and there was a sort of satisfaction in seeing that his perverse
silence really distressed his brother.

"If you will go on in this way, I can't help it, but you'll be sorry
some day," said Norman, and he walked thoughtfully on, looking back to
see whether Tom was following, as he did slowly, meditating on the way
how he should avert his tyrant's displeasure.

Norman stood for a moment at the door, surveying the court, then walked
up to a party of boys, and laid his hand on the shoulder of one, holding
a silver fourpence to him. "Anderson Junior," said he, "there's your
money. I am not going to let Stoneborough School be turned into a gin
palace. I give you notice, it is not to be. Now you are not to bully May
junior for telling me. He did not, I found him out."

Leaving Anderson to himself he looked for Tom, but not seeing him,
he entered the cloister, for it was the hou