ry conviction.
"Can't you mind your own infernal business and leave me to mind
mine?"

This was so rude that I felt quite justified in leaving him to mind
his own infernal business, whatever it might be. I strolled away.

Now, with this interesting performance of Freedham's, my desire to
describe this cricket match ends. There was a hot finish, but, in
spite of some fortunate overs from myself, the Suckers won. The last
wicket down, Chappy got out of his deck-chair with a sudden
quickness which suggested that such was the only method of
successfully getting his fat self upon his feet; and, when he had
shaken down his white waistcoat and said: "Bye-bye, Radley. Reg'lar
meals, no smoke, and you may grow into a fine lad yet," carried
himself off with the awkward leg-work of a heavy-bodied man,
cheerily acknowledging the greetings of the little Sucker boys, and
prodding the fattest of them in the ribs. Radley strolled away,
followed by the wondering looks of boys who were told that this big
man was S.T. Radley, of Middlesex. Freedham, quite recovered,
returned to his day-boy roof among the endless roofs of Kensingtowe
Town. And I plied homeward to Bramhall House, depressed by the
prospect of Preparation for the rest of the evening, and by the
restored consciousness of Fillet's hostility, which, forgotten
during the cricket match, now came back upon me like a sense of
foreboding.

CHAPTER III

AWFUL ROUT OF RAY

Sec.1

The following afternoon I was looking rather glumly out of a window
at the broad playing fields which, in the greyness of a rainy day,
seemed as deserted as myself. From my place I could see nearly all
the red-brick wall that surrounds Kensingtowe grounds; I could see
the iron railings which, at long intervals, break the monotony of
the wall. Now the railings of Kensingtowe, like all places with sad
memories, have an honourable place in my heart.

Naturally it was a rule, strictly enforced, that boys must make
their exit from the fields by going through the Bramhall gate rather
than over the railings. Naturally, too, this rule was sometimes
disregarded, for the architect, whom I deem a desirable soul, had
made the passage over the railings invitingly possible by means of
some well-placed cross-pieces, which he sketched into his designs,
saying (I imagine): "We shall have the lads climbing over at this
point--well, God bless 'em--I hope they're not caught and whopped
for it." Right at the fa