but he was
rather a favorite with the doctor for his openness and plainness of
speech; so blurted out, as he walked by the doctor's side, who had
already turned back:

"Yes, sir, generally. But I thought you wished us to exercise a
discretion in the matter, too--not to interfere too soon."

"But they have been fighting this half-hour and more," said the doctor.

"Yes, sir, but neither was hurt. And they're the sort of boys who'll be
all the better friends now, which they wouldn't have been if they had
been stopped any earlier--before it was so equal."

"Who was fighting with Brown?" said the doctor.

"Williams, sir, of Thompson's. He is bigger than Brown, and had the best
of it at first, but not when you came up, sir. There's a good deal of
jealousy between our house and Thompson's, and there would have been
more fights if this hadn't been let go on, or if either of them had had
much the worst of it."

"Well but, Brooke," said the doctor, "doesn't this look a little as if
you exercised your discretion by only stopping a fight when the
school-house boy is getting the worst of it?"

Brooke, it must be confessed, felt rather graveled.

"Remember," added the doctor, as he stopped at the turret-door, "this
fight is not to go on--you'll see to that. And I expect you to stop all
fights in future at once."

"Very-well, sir," said young Brooke, touching his hat, and not sorry to
see the turret-door close, behind the doctor's back.

Meantime Tom and the stanchest of his adherents had reached Harrowell's,
and Sally was bustling about to get them a late tea, while Stumps had
been sent off to Tew, the butcher, to get a piece of raw beef for Tom's
eye, so that he might show well in the morning. He was not a bit the
worse except a slight difficulty in his vision, a singing in his ears,
and a sprained thumb, which he kept in a cold-water bandage, while he
drank lots of tea, and listened to the babel of voices talking and
speculating of nothing but the fight, and how Williams would have given
in after another fall (which he didn't in the least believe), and how on
earth the doctor could have gotten to know of it--such bad luck! He
couldn't help thinking to himself that he was glad he hadn't won; he
liked it better as it was, and felt very friendly to the slogger. And
then poor little Arthur crept in and sat down quietly near him, and kept
looking at him and the raw beef with such plaintive looks, that Tom at
last burst out l