rd wall to run your head against."

"That confounded old Browse has gone and sneaked!" cried the other, with
a flush of passion on his face. "Let's wait till Ally's gone, and then
make a raid on the old stew-pot."

Hawley and Gull sprang to their feet with a murmur of assent; Fletcher
shrugged his shoulders and remained silent.

"What we'll do is this," continued Thurston. "He sits with his back to
the door. I'll pop in first and throw this tablecloth over his head;
then, while I hold him down, you chaps upset the things and put out the
light. Then we'll rush out all together, and he won't know for certain
who did it."

Five minutes later the conspirators crept out into the passage, and
tip-toed towards the door of the adjoining study. Fletcher lingered
behind, and, instead of following the expedition, stole softly away
in the opposite direction. Another moment, and the unfortunate Browse
was struggling to rise from his chair, with his head enveloped in the
tablecloth. Hawley and Gull, following immediately in rear of their
leader, sent the table, with its load of books and writing materials,
over with a crash, threw the chairs into different corners of the room,
and were about to scatter the contents of the bookcase over the floor,
when Allingford suddenly burst into the room, and stood glaring round
like an angry lion.

With one swing of his right arm he sent Thurston staggering against the
wall, and then, stepping forward without an instant's hesitation, he
dealt each of the other marauders a swinging box on the ear.

The two Fifth Form boys were big, strong fellows, and for a moment it
seemed as though a stand-up fight would ensue. The captain, however,
followed up his attack with amazing promptness, and before his
antagonists had time to think of resistance he had taken them both by
the shoulders and sent them flying into the passage.

"There!" he exclaimed. "I'll teach you gentlemen to come playing pranks
on Sixth Form studies. What business have you got here, I should like
to know?--As for you," continued the speaker, casting a scornful glance
at the originator of the outrage, "I should have thought a fellow who's
a prefect ought to know better than to go rioting with every scamp in
the school."

Thurston's conduct on the cricket field had clearly proved him to be no
coward. He stood his ground, and returned Allingford's angry glances
with a look of fierce defiance. He attempted to make some