e had a strong position to start
with, and if only he played his cards well he might score off the enemy
with credit.

He therefore declined an invitation to Parson's to partake of shrimps
and jam at tea, and kept himself in his own house till the time
appointed for reporting himself to the captain. Then, instead of going
to Bloomfield, he presented himself before Riddell.

"Well?" said the captain, in his usual half-apologetic tone.

"Oh!" said Telson, "I'm reported, please, Riddell."

"What for? Who reported you?" asked Riddell.

"Game--for fighting," replied Telson.

"He hasn't told me of it. You'd better come in the morning."

"Oh! it's all right," said Telson. "I was fighting King in the `Big'
this afternoon."

Riddell looked perplexed. This was the first case of a boy voluntarily
delivering himself up to justice, and he hardly knew what to do.

However, he had found out thus much by this time--that it didn't so much
matter what he did as long as he did something.

"You know it's against rules," said he, as severely as he could, "and
it's not the first time you've done it. You must do fifty lines of
Virgil, and stop in the house on Monday and Tuesday."

"All right! Thanks," said Telson, rapidly departing, and leaving
Riddell quite bewildered by the apparent gratitude of his fag.

Telson betook himself quietly to his study and began to write his lines.
It was evident from the restless way in which he looked up at every
footstep outside he did not expect to remain long undisturbed at this
harmless occupation. Nor was he disappointed.

In about ten minutes King entered and said, "I say, Telson, you're in
for it! You're to go to Bloomfield directly."

"What's he given you?"

"A licking!" said King; "and stopped my play half a week. But I say,
you'd better go--sharp!"

"I'm not going," said Telson.

"What!" exclaimed King, in amazement.

"Cut it," said Telson; "I'm busy."

"He sent me to fetch you," said King.

"Don't I tell you I'm not coming? I'll lick you, King, if you don't cut
it!"

King did "cut it" in a considerable state of alarm at the foolhardiness
of his youthful comrade.

But Telson knew his business. No sooner had King gone than he took up
his Virgil and paper, and repaired once more to Riddell's study.

"Please, Riddell," said he, meekly, "do you mind me writing my lines
here?"

"Not a bit," said Riddell, whose study was always open house to his
youthful fag.