ey--Stanley by the grace of God.

"Bring the boy Doe in," ordered Stanley, "and kick that gas-bag
Pennybet out. If he were a year younger we'd whack him too."

No one thought himself specifically addressed, and Penny was left in
possession of the floor. But Stanley's curt treatment rankled in his
heart. So, placing his feet wide apart and his hands in his
waistcoat pockets, he respectfully drew attention to the opprobrious
epithet "gas-bag" which had been employed in requesting him to
retire from this Chamber of Horrors, and asked that the offensive
remark might be withdrawn.

Stanley scorned communication with an impertinent junior. He
telegraphed a glance to Bickerton.

"Turf him out, Bicky."

But Penny, perceiving that rough treatment would ensue, gracefully
removed himself from the room, so timing his motions that he closed
the door from outside just as Bickerton from within arrived at the
handle. Bickerton, defeated, swung round upon the assembly and
asked if he should follow the fugitive.

"That kid's too smart to live," said Stanley, more generous than his
peers. "Let him be. He'd best you and a good many more of us.
Besides, it's nearly tea-time, and we've got to get this Doe
business over."

Bickerton accordingly took up his place on the fender and considered
himself empanelled upon the jury. Doe stood with his hands behind
his back, his cheeks very flushed, and his knees slightly shivering,
but upheld by the thought of his resemblance to Charles I. He would
scorn to plead before this unjust tribunal.

"Now, Edgar Doe," began Stanley, and his voice was the signal for
silence in the court and for all eyes to be concentrated on the
prisoner. "You've made a little fool of yourself. You've openly set
us all at defiance and, no doubt, thought yourself mighty clever. I
don't think you'd have been so ready to do it if we hadn't been
decent and had you in here sometimes. But that's beside the point,
only I may say in passing that we shan't have you here any more."

"I don't care," said Doe. "I don't want to come, and I wouldn't come
if you asked me."

"Yes, we all know that. It was the obvious thing to say, Mr. Edgar
Gray Doe. Now we aren't bullies, and perhaps, had you comforted your
friend on the Q.T., and been copped doing so, we'd have let you off.
But it's the beastly blatancy of it all that constitutes the gravity
of your offence and detracts from its value as a self-denying act of
friendship. Do I