fully under little Mr. Stephen, the assistant. Only Miss
Huntingdon, in the Infant Department, remained quiet and neat as a dove
new-preened among her murmuring throng of unconscious little folk.

But in the senior school, though I never reported a boy to my father
(preferring to postpone his case for private dealing in the playground),
the lid of the desk was opened and snapped sharply every five minutes to
give exit and entrance to "Lochgelly." Seldom have I seen my father so
roused. He hated not to understand everything that was going on in the
school. He longed to ask me what I knew about it, but, according to his
habit, generously forbore, lest he should lead me to tell tales upon my
fellows. For, though actually junior assistant to my father, I was still
a scholar, which made my position difficult indeed. To me it seemed as
if the clock on the wall above the fireplace would never strike the hour
of four.

CHAPTER II

"IN THE NAME OF THE LAW!"

At last--at last! The door between the seniors and Mr. Stephen's juniors
was thrown open. My father, making his usual formal bow to his
assistant, said, "When you are ready, Mr. Stephen!" And Mr. Stephen was
always ready. Then with his back to the hinges of the door, and his
strong black beard with the greying strands in it set forward at an
angle, Mr. John MacAlpine, head-master of Eden Valley Academy, said a
few severe words on the afternoon's lack of discipline, and prophesied
in highly coloured language the exemplary manner in which any repetition
of it would be treated on the morrow. Then he doubled all home lessons,
besides setting a special imposition to each class. Having made this
clear, he hoped that the slight token of his displeasure might assure us
of his intention to do his duty by us faithfully, and then, with the
verse of a chanted psalm we were let go.

Class by class defiled with rumble of boots and tramp of wooden-soled
clogs, the boys first, the girls waiting till the outside turmoil had
abated--but, nevertheless, as anxious as any to be gone. I believe we
expected to tumble over slow serpents and nimble spectres coming
visiting up the school-loaning, or coiling in festoons among the tall
Scotch firs at the back of the playground.

We of the sixth class were in the rear--I last of all, for I had to
lock away the copybooks, turn the maps to the wall, and give my father
the key. _But_ I had warned the other seniors that they were not to
start