had fallen. And Singh, who was standing with
Morris, enthusiastically joined the master in the applause and cheers
that welcomed Glyn as he carried out his bat.

"Splendid!" cried Morris. "Grand! The finest bit of batting I have
seen in schoolboy life. I am proud of you, my lad. Oh, if you would
only shine like this over your algebra!"

It was all genuine.

So the result was that the Strongley boys went back after a second bad
beating, in spite of the four old members of their eleven, one of whom
had actually begun to shave.

And then the school-life went on, with its ups and downs, pleasures and
pains, as school-life will, till one morning--the morning following a
pillow-chat in bed between the two boys who play the principal parts in
this story, when their discourse had been about the length of time that
had elapsed since the Colonel had visited Plymborough--Wrench came to
the class-room to announce that the Doctor desired the presence of Mr
Severn and Mr Singh.

There was a whispered word or two as the pair rose from their seats
wondering what it meant, and there were plenty of malicious grins,
Slegge's containing the most venom, as he whispered to Burney loud
enough for Singh to hear, "Cane!" while Burney's merry little face grew
distorted as he caught Glyn's glance, and then began to rub his knuckles
in his eyes, as if suggesting what his big friend would be doing when he
came back from seeing the Doctor.

"I say, is anything the matter?" said Singh nervously.

"No. Nonsense!" replied Glyn. "I am sure we have both been doing our
best."

This was as they got outside the class-room and were following Wrench
into the hall.

"Hurrah! I know!" whispered Glyn. "I believe it's the dad come down at
last."

"Oh!" cried Singh joyously. "Then he'll want us to come and dine with
him. How jolly!"

For it was long indeed since the Colonel had been down; and though he
wrote pretty regularly, first to one and then to the other, excusing
himself on the ground that he had been very busy of late over Indian
business connected with the late Maharajah's affairs, letters did not
mean a day's holiday ending with a pleasant dinner and a long talk about
old days in Dour.

So the boys fully expected to find the fierce-looking old Colonel
chatting with the Doctor and waiting to greet them in his hearty manner.
But they were disappointed, for as they entered the study the Doctor
laid down his pen, nodded gravely to