is own). If he,
Loman, had felt quite certain that he had damaged the rod himself, of
course he would not think of such a thing; but he was not at all certain
the thing was not defective to begin with. In any case it was an
inferior rod--that he had no doubt about--and Cripps was not acting
honestly by trying to pass it off on him as one of the best make. Yes,
it would serve Cripps right, and be a lesson to him, and he was sure,
yes, quite sure now, it had been damaged to begin with.

And so the boy argued with himself and coquetted with the tempter.
Before the afternoon was over he felt (as he imagined) quite comfortable
in his own mind over the affair. The rod was tied up again in its bag
exactly as it had been before, and only wanted an opportunity to be
returned to Mr Cripps.

After that Loman settled down to an evening's study. But things were
against him again. Comfortable as his conscience was, that top joint
would not let him alone. It seemed to get into his hand in place of the
pen, and to point out the words in the lexicon in place of his finger.
He tried not to mind it, but it annoyed him, and, what was worse,
interfered with his work. So, shutting up his books, and imagining a
change of air might be beneficial, he went off to Callonby's study,
there to gossip for an hour or two, and finally rid himself of his
tormentor.

Stephen, meanwhile, had had Mr Cripps on his mind too, for that
afternoon his bat had come home. It was addressed to "Mr Greenfield,
Saint Dominic's," and of course taken to Oliver, who wondered much to
receive a small size cricket-bat in a parcel. Master Paul, however, who
was in attendance, was able to clear up the mystery.

"Oh! that's your young brother's, I expect; he said he had got a bat
coming."

"All I can say is, he must be more flush of cash than I am, to go in for
a thing like this. Send him here, Paul."

So Paul vanished, and presently Stephen put in an appearance, blushing,
and anxious-looking.

"Is this yours?" asked the elder brother.

"Yes; did Mr Cripps send it?"

"Mr Cripps the lock-keeper?"

"No, his son. He said he would get it for me. I say, is that a good
bat, Oliver?"

"Nothing out of the way. But, I say, young 'un, how much have you given
for it?"

"Not anything yet. Mr Cripps said I could pay in June, when I get my
next pocket-money."

"What on earth has he to do with when you get your pocket-money?"
demanded Oliver. "Who is this y