g of the Form, Hasluck--to-night."

"What about?"

"A little matter between Newall, Moncrief, and me. It touches the honour
of the Form."

And Hasluck at once consented.

CHAPTER XII

THE FORUM

"Meeting of the Fifth in the Forum."

The whisper had travelled from form to form, and, as invariably
happened, conjecture was busy as to what the meeting of the Fifth could
be for.

"It's a breach-of-promise case they've got on!" said Freddy Plunger
confidentially to half a dozen members of the Third who had been
discussing the event.

"Breach of promise?" repeated Baldry. "None of your gammon, Freddy!"

"Fact! Haven't you heard? One of the freshers has been making desperate
love to the matron--giving her his portrait, with his love, and that
sort of thing. You wouldn't wonder at it from an old stager like you,
Baldry, or Sedgeley; but from a fresher--well, it's awful, isn't it?
What's the school coming to--that's what I should like to know?"

Harry Moncrief blushed to the roots of his hair as the boys standing
round Plunger turned to him and tittered.

"What are the damages?"

"A broken topper, a pair of plaids, a white waistcoat, and spats over
patents."

More titters, and more glances in the direction of Harry. He knew well
enough that this reference on Plunger's part was meant for him to the
costume with which he had adorned himself on his coming to Garside.

"Plunger's been crowing it over me ever since I came here. I shall have
to take it out of him," he thought.

The outburst of laughter that followed did not mend matters. So he
hastened away, in no pleasant mood, without any regard to whither he
was going. He came to a stop when he reached the cricketing-shed, in the
playing-fields adjoining the school. It was this shed which was known as
"The Forum." Here it was that the meeting of the Fifth was to be held.

Harry stopped and regarded it with some interest.

"Stan will be at the meeting, I suppose, and Paul Percival. Wouldn't I
like to know what it's all about!"

He had an uncomfortable feeling that things weren't going quite smoothly
with his cousin and Paul Percival. Bit by bit the glamour with which he
had viewed the school was wearing off. He no longer regarded it through
rose-coloured glasses. Plunger had lorded it over him and made fun of
him; his cousin and Paul, whom he had expected to find on the same
footing as himself, might have been in a different world, so great was
the d