ton began to make uncouth sounds as if he were being choked
in his efforts to suppress a hearty burst of laughter.

"Well, this 'ere's a pretty game," continued Wrench, as he took hold of
the bat by the handle and ran his hand along the muddy string till at
the bottom of the bucket his hand came in contact with a heavy brick.
"Why, any one would think it was a tom-cat with a string round its neck
and a brick at the other end of the string so as to keep him down. Four
or five years ago! Why, that would be time enough for all the flesh and
skin to have gone; but I never knowed that cats' skillingtons was shaped
like a cricket-bat.--Here, steady, youngster!" he continued to the
little fellow, "if you laugh like that you will have a fit."

"Oh, I can't bear it! I can't bear it!" panted the little chap, and
wrenching himself free from Glyn's grasp he rushed out at the well-house
door, ten or a dozen of his comrades bounding up to him as he shouted,
"Oh, come and look! come and look! Here it is! They've pulled it up,
drowned and quite dead."

There was a yell of delight from the little crowd, and all rushed up to
the well-house-door, to begin performing something like a triumphant
war-dance about the blackened and muddy bat.

"Here, I say, some one," cried Burton, "run and tell old Slegge that
they have found his cricket-bat drowned in the well like a dead dog in a
pond."

"Hush! Hush! Oh no. Hold your tongue!" whispered another of the boys
excitedly. "Let him find it out for himself. Don't let the cat out of
the bag."

"Bat out of the bag, you mean," said Glyn, who knew of the disappearance
of the bat and began to see through what had been done. "Which of you
did this?"

There was no reply.

"Do you hear?" cried Glyn, catching Burton by the collar of his jacket.

"I shan't tell," replied the little fellow. "Serve him right for
loading the old bat with lead.--Chuck it down again, somebody."

"Nay," cried Wrench; "I am not going to have any more things drowned in
my well. Now then, stand aside, some of you! Clear out, and take that
bat away."

"Here," cried Burton. "Come on, boys! Bring it along."

"Stop a moment," said Glyn. "Here's a painted wooden label here.
What's this on it?"

"B--e--a--s--t," said Wrench, "only it's turned nearly black with being
in the water, and very badly done; but that's it, sure enough,
sir--_beast_."

"Yes, that's it--_beast_," said another of the boys, snatching