The Gold Bat

at somebody had sent the lette

on the subject

he inquired, when Clowes came int

rter? Iwonder what sort of a lot the Town are bringing.""About n

g whom?"

ours.""What about them?"Trevor sprang at the paper, and t

colours?"Clowes surveyed him with the air of a nurse to whom t

Trevor felt in his pocket for the note, and flung

footer colou

didn't see Mill's study 'after treatment'. I did. Anyhow, how doyou account for the card I showed you?""But that sort of thing doesn't happen at school.""Well, it _has_ happened, you see.""Who do you think did send the letter, then?""The President of the League.""And who the dickens is the

umping on _me_," he ad

was quite blue both asto the face and speech. He didn't speak very clearly, but what onecould catch was well worth hearing. I should advise you to sleep with aloaded revolver under your pillow.""The first thing I shall do is find out who wrote this letter.""I should," said Clowes, encouragingly. "Keep moving."In Seymour's hou

followed at brief intervals by Smith, Robinson, and Jones, whocame respectively to learn the right time, to borrow a book, and to askhim if he had seen a pencil anywhere. Towards the end of the day, Millwould seem to have wearied somewhat of the proceedings, as was provedwhen Master Thomas Renford, aged fourteen (who fagged for Milton, thehead of the house), burst in on the thin pretence that he had mistakenthe study for that of his rightful master, and gave vent to a prolongedwhistle of

tly study. Why shouldn't I look at his study if I like? I've ajolly good

ord with a yawn. "It's such a faggoing

east, too.""Yes, isn

y _has_ been ragged," cont

s."This remark seemed to suggest a train of thought to Renford, who madethe following cryptic observation. "Have you seen

this morning.""Were they all right?"

ne ofthe disaster early, before Mill's energetic hand had repaired

. Made a fair old hash of things, didn't he, Bertie?""Bertie" was the form in which the school elected to serve up the nameof De Bertini. Raoul de Bertini was a French boy who had come to Wrykynin the previous term. Drummo

don?"

icverisimilitude to a bald and unconvincing narrative."Bertie grinned politely. He always grinned when he was not quite equalto the

ck on the man.""Once," announced M'Todd, solemnly, "he kicked me--for m

an excellent andpraiseworthy act on Mill's

"Or haven't they made you a prefecty

erinquiringly, as if to ask what he had come for. A friend may

y. He seated himself on the table,and

ut Mill, of co

d?""Yes."Rand-Brown smiled, as if the recollection amused him. He

haven't seen the list."He objected to the introduction of the topic. It is never

ation was an embarrassingone, for a few minut

u chaps comi

ught they would, and t

u don't want him, eh, Bertie? Wh

grinned