of the noise and the dust. It was impossible to tell what the fight was
about; the blood on both sides was evidently up, and the battle, it was
clear, was anything but a mock one. Riddell stood there for some time a
bewildered and unrecognised spectator. It would be useless for him to
attempt to make himself heard above all the din, and worse than useless
to attempt single-handed to interpose between the combatants. The only
thing to do seemed to be to wait till the battle was over. But then,
thought Riddell, what would be the use of interfering when it was all
over? His duty was to stop it, and stop it he must!

With which resolve, and taking advantage of a momentary lull in the
conflict, he advanced with a desperate effort towards a boy who appeared
to be the leader of one of the two parties, and who was gesticulating
and shouting at the top of his voice to encourage his followers. This
champion did not notice the captain as he approached, and when he did,
he mistook him for one of the enemy, and sprang at him like a young
tiger, knocking him over just as the ranks once more closed, and the
battle began again.

What might have been Riddell's fate it would be hard to say had not a
loud shout of, "Man down there! Hold hard!" suddenly suspended
hostilities.

Such a cry was never disregarded at Willoughby, even by the most
desperate of combatants, and every one stood now impatiently where he
was, waiting for the obstruction to regain his feet.

The spectacle which the new captain of Willoughby presented, as with
scared face and dust-covered garment he rose slowly from the floor, was
strange indeed. It was a second or two before any one recognised him,
and then the boys seemed not to be sure whether it was not his ghost, so
mysteriously had he appeared in their midst, coming from no one knew
where.

As, however, the true state of affairs gradually dawned on them, a loud
shout of laughter rose on every hand, and the quarrel was at once
forgotten in the merriment occasioned by this wonderful apparition.

Riddell, pale and agitated, stood where he was as one in a dream, from
which he was only aroused by voices shouting out amid the laughter,
"Hullo! where did you come from? What's the row? Look at him!"

At the same time fellows crowded round him and offered to brush him
down, accompanying their violent services with bursts of equally violent
merriment.

With a hard effort Riddell shook himself free and st