the high jump. Instead of casting in
his lot in class with a jovial though somewhat distracting set, he now
kept his mind free for his studies, and earned the frequent commendation
of the Doctor and Mr Jellicott.

Now, reader, I ask you, if you had been one of the Fifth of Saint
Dominic's would not all this have been very riling? Here was a fellow
convicted of a shameful piece of deceit, caught, one might say, in the
very act, and by his own conduct as good as admitting it. Here was a
fellow, I say, whom every sensible boy ought to avoid, not only showing
himself utterly indifferent to the aversion of his class-fellows, but
positively thriving and triumphing before their very faces! Was it any
wonder if they felt very sore, and increasingly sore on the subject of
Oliver Greenfield?

One boy, of course, stuck to the exile through thick and thin. If
Oliver had murdered all Saint Dominic's with slow poison, Stephen would
have stuck to him to the end, and he stuck to him now. He, at least,
never once admitted that his brother was guilty. When slowly he first
discovered what were the suspicions of the Fifth, and what was the
common talk of the school about Oliver, the small boy's indignation was
past description. He rushed to his brother.

"Do you hear the lies the fellows are telling about you, Noll?"

"Yes," said Oliver.

"Why don't you stop it, and tell them?"

"What's the use? I've told them once. If they don't choose to believe
it, they needn't."

Any other boy would, of course, have taken this as clear evidence of the
elder brother's guilt; but it only strengthened the small boy's
indignation.

"_I'll_ let them know, if _you_ won't!" and forthwith he went and
proceeded to make himself a perfect nuisance in the school. He began
with Wraysford.

"I say, Wray," he demanded, "do you hear all the lies the fellows are
telling about Noll?"

"Don't make a row now," said Wraysford, shortly. "I'm busy." But
Stephen had no notion of being put down.

"The fellows say he stole an exam paper, the blackguards! I'd like to
punch all their heads, and I will too!"

"Clear out of my study, now," said Wraysford, sharply.

Stephen stared at him a moment. Then his face grew pale as he grasped
the meaning of it all.

"I say, Wray, surely _you_ don't believe it?" he cried.

"Go away now," was Wraysford's only answer.

But this did not suit Stephen, his blood was up, and he meant to have it
out.

"Surely