es with me.'

'How many, Dick?' asked Ted eagerly.

'Dunno,' said Dick, exposing his hands; 'he jus' cut away till he was
tired, chi-ikin' me all the time. But I'll get even, you see!'

Dick's palms were very puffy; there were a couple of blue blisters on his
fingers, and across each wrist an angry-looking white wheal. The boys
were sufficiently impressed, and, in spite of his wrath against Joel Ham,
Dicky could not resist a certain gratification on that account. Boys take
much pride in the sufferings they have borne, and their scars are always
exhibited with a grave conceit. Ted displayed his hands, still betraying
evidence of the morning's caning, and Jacker Mack spoke feelingly of
stripes and bruises remaining since Tuesday. Peterson was the only one
quite free from mark or brand of the master's, and he recollected many
thrashings with extreme bitterness, and was quite in sympathy with the
party.

'What say if we give him a scare?' said Dick. 'Are you on?'

Jacker and Ted were dubious. It was too sudden; their recent experiences
had made them unusually respectful of the master. Dick marked the
hesitation, and said scornfully:

'Oh, you fellows needn't be afraid. You won't be let in for it. I know a
trick that's quite safe--bin thinkin' about it all the afternoon.'

If Dick were quite sure it was safe, and if there were not the smallest
possible chance of their complicity being disclosed, Jacker and Ted were
quite agreeable. Peterson was always agreeable for adventure, however
absurd. Dick explained:

'Hamlet's gone down to the pub. He's sure to get screwed to-night.
There's a fool feller there from McInnes, knockin' down a cheque an'
shoutin' mad. Hamlet'll get his share in spite of all, an' he'll be as
tight as a brick by ten o'clock. You know my joey 'possum? Well, I'll fix
him up into the awfullest kind of a blue devil, with feathers an' things.
We'll push him into Jo's room, and when Jo comes home an' strikes a light
he'll spot him, an' think he's got delirious trimmens again. That'll give
him a shakin'.'

'My oath, won't it!' ejaculated Peterson.

Jacker was elated, and grinned far and wide.

'P'raps he'll go nippin' round, thinkin' he's chased by 'em like he did
las' Christmas holidays,' suggested the elder McKnight gleefully.

This villainous scheme was the result of the boys' extraordinary
familiarity with many phases of drunkenness. Waddy was a pastoral as well
as a mining centre, and strange r