one of the boxes, but not the right one,
for he produced a `z.'

"Ah, I thought so," said Mr Durfy, with a sneer that made Reginald long
to cram the type into his mouth. "Now let's try a capital `J.'"

As it happened, Reginald knew where the capital "J" was, but he made no
attempt to reach it, and answered,--

"If you want a capital `J,' Mr Durfy, you can help yourself."

"Magog" nearly jumped out of his skin as he heard this audacious reply,
and scarcely ventured to look round to notice the effect of it on Mr
Durfy. The effect was on the whole not bad. For a moment the overseer
was dumbfounded and could not speak. But a glance at the resolute pale
boy in front of him checked him in his impulse to use some other retort
but the tongue. As soon as words came he snarled,--

"Ho! is it that you mean, my beauty? All right, we'll see who's master
here; and if I am, I'm sorry for you."

And he turned on his heel and went.

"You've done it now," said "Magog," in an agitated whisper--"done it
clean."

"Done what?" asked Reginald.

"Done it with Durfy. He will make it hot for you, and no mistake.
Never mind, if the worst comes to the worst you can cut. But hold on as
long as you can. He'll make you go some time or another."

"He won't make me go till I choose," replied Reginald. "I'll stick here
to disappoint him, if I do nothing else."

The reader may have made up his mind already that Reginald was a fool.
I'm afraid he was. But do not judge him harshly yet, for his troubles
are only beginning.

CHAPTER SEVEN.

AN EXCITING END TO A DULL DAY.

Horace meanwhile had wended his way with some trepidation and curiosity
to the manager's sanctum. He felt uncomfortable in being separated from
Reginald at all, especially when the latter was left single-handed in
such an uncongenial atmosphere as that breathed by Mr Durfy and Barber.
He could only hope for the best, and, meanwhile, what fate was in store
for himself?

He knocked at the manager's door doubtfully and obeyed the summons to
enter.

Brusque man as the manager was, there was nothing disagreeable about his
face as he looked up and said, "Oh--you're the youngster Mr Richmond
put in here?"

"Yes, sir, my brother and I are."

"Yes, and I hear you're both fools. Is that the case?"

"Reginald isn't, whatever I am," said Horace, boldly.

"Isn't he? I'm told he's the bigger fool of the two. Never mind that,
though--"

"I assure you," bega