l manner before the latter had
time to carry out his offensive designs, he turned sharply round and hit
him a very severe blow in the lower part of his waistcoat.

The result fulfilled his highest expectations. Tipping collapsed like a
pocket-rule, and staggered away speechless, and purple with pain, while
Paul stood calm and triumphant. He had shown these fellows that he
wasn't going to stand any nonsense. They would leave him alone after
this, perhaps.

But once more there were cries and murmurs of "Shame!" "No hitting below
the belt!" "Cad--coward!"

It appeared that, somehow, he had managed to offend their prejudices
even in this. "It's very odd," he thought; "when I didn't fight they
called me a coward, and now, when I do, I don't seem to have pleased
them much. I don't care, though. I've settled _him_."

But after a season of protracted writhing by the parallel bars, Tipping
came out, still gasping and deadly pale, leaning on Biddlecomb's
shoulder, and was met with universal sympathy and condolence.

"Thanks!" he said with considerable effort. "Of course--I'm not
going--to fight him after a low trick like that; but perhaps you fellows
will see that he doesn't escape quite as easily as he fancies?"

There was a general shout. "No; he shall pay for it! We'll teach him to
fight fair! We'll see if he tries that on again!"

Paul heard it with much uneasiness. What new devilry were they about to
practise upon him? He was not left long in doubt.

"I vote," suggested Biddlecomb, as if he were proposing a testimonial,
"we make him run the gauntlet. Grim won't come out and catch us. I saw
him go out for a drive an hour ago." And the idea was very favourably
entertained.

Paul had heard of "running the gauntlet," and dimly suspected that it
was not an experience he was likely to enjoy, particularly when he saw
everyone busying himself with tying the end of his pocket-handkerchief
into a hard knot. He tried in vain to excuse himself, declaring again
and again that he had never meant to injure the boy. He had only
defended himself, and was under the impression that he was at perfect
liberty to hit him wherever he could, and so on. But they were in no
mood for excuses.

With a stern magisterial formality worthy of a Vehm-Gericht, they formed
in two long lines down the centre of the playground; and while Paul was
still staring in wonder at what this strange manoeuvre might mean,
somebody pounced upon him and carried