linger."

"All I can say is," said Braddy, "Greenfield will have to ask me before
I have anything to do with him."

"And do you know," said Ricketts, "I heard to-day he is down to play in
the match against the County."

"Is he?" exclaimed Braddy in excitement; "very well, then. _I_ shall
not play if he does. That's all about that."

Ricketts laughed.

"Awfully sorry, old man, but you're not in the fifteen this time."

Braddy's face was a picture at this moment--he turned red and blue and
white in his astonishment.

"What!" he exclaimed, as soon as he could find words. "I'm not in the
team!"

"You'll see the list on the notice board; you'd better go and look."

Off went the wretched Braddy to be convinced of his fate.

"You're in the team, Ricketts, I see," said Tom Senior. "Shall _you_
play if Greenfield does?"

"Don't know," said Ricketts. "A fellow doesn't get a chance to play
against the County every day. It's precious awkward."

"So it is; that's just where we began, too," said Tom, philosophically.
And, as a matter of fact, whenever these young gentlemen of the Fifth
started the subject of Greenfield senior among themselves, they always
found themselves in the end at the identical place from which they had
set out.

Nor were they the only boys at Saint Dominic's in this dilemma. The
Guinea-pigs and Tadpoles were equally taken aback by the new aspect of
affairs. These young gentlemen had looked upon Oliver's "row" with his
class as a peculiar mercy designed specially for their benefit. They
had hardly known such a happy time as that during which the row had
lasted. Did they want a pretext for a battle? Greenfield senior was a
glorious bone of contention. Did they want an object for an indignation
meeting? What better object could they have than Greenfield senior?
Did they want an excuse generally for laziness, disobedience, and
tumult? Greenfield senior served for this too. Indeed, the name of the
Fifth Form Martyr had passed into a household word among the lower
school, either of glory or reproach, and round it the small fry rallied,
as round an old flag of battle.

But now, both friend and foe were aghast. To the Guinea-pigs half the
charm of their position had been that they were Greenfield senior's sole
champions in all Saint Dominic's. While every one else avoided him,
they stuck to him, week-days and Sundays. Now, however, they
discovered, with something like consternation,