surmounting the lower half of him was a gorgeous
white waistcoat, cutaway jacket, and tall hat. Paul could not help
smiling, for he at once saw the reason of this remarkable attire. Young
Moncrief had followed out precisely the instructions sent him by his
friend Plunger.

"He seems to have got himself up regardless of expense, Stan," smiled
Paul. "He means making an impression on the school. But you needn't
scowl so, old fellow. It's all done for your sake. He thinks it the
correct form, and doesn't want to let you down."

"Correct form--don't want to let me down!" repeated Stanley, bewildered.
"What on earth are you driving at?"

Thereupon Paul related to Stanley the conversation he had had with Harry
on the day he had visited Oakville, and the mysterious document he had
shown him from Plunger as to the correct way to dress, and what to do on
entering Garside.

"And the little soft has nibbled at Plunger's bait," laughed Stanley.
"It isn't a bad joke, and I suppose I mustn't spoil it."

So Stanley and Paul kept out of the way of the throng of boys who, with
Harry Moncrief in their midst, were making their way across the grounds
in the direction of the schoolhouse. Harry, with his arm linked in
Plunger's--a dark boy, with mischief-sparkling eyes--seemed quite
unconscious of the fact that the boys were laughing at him.

"Bax is busy with some of the other freshers," Plunger was saying; "so
you'd better get over your introduction to Mrs. Trounce, and we'll hunt
up old Bax after."

"All right, Freddy," answered Harry, quite elated at the thought that he
had at last entered a public school where there were boys bigger and
older than himself, and that he was being initiated into its mysteries
and ways. "After that I suppose I can find my cousin?"

"Oh, yes!"

"And there's a chum of his I met at home during the vac.--Paul Percival.
Do you know him?"

"Ra-ther. He's one of the seniors--in the same form as your cousin. I
didn't know that you knew him."

"I've only met him once, but I should like to meet him again. Pater
thinks no end of him."

"Oh, you'll see plenty of him at Garside--a good deal too much. Those
Upper Form fellows think no end of themselves, I can tell you. This way
to the divine Trounce. You haven't forgotten?"

"Of course not; I've got all the rules by heart. See, here's the photo."

He drew from his pocket a photograph of himself as he spoke, with some
writing on the bottom, which he hande