on were more
attractive. He had not got the patient persistency of Tom Buller, or
with his superior quickness he might have gone far towards success. But
he wanted to establish his position at a jump, and every failure
discouraged and irritated him. And so his efforts became more and more
spasmodic, and he confined himself to trying to become the head of a
clique. But his overbearing vanity and selfishness would show itself
too glaringly at times, and many who accepted him as a leader at first
grew weary of him, and Edwards was his only really faithful follower.
Therefore he fell back upon Slam's, where certain young farmers of the
neighbourhood, for whom he sometimes provided drink, applauded his songs
and jokes, and fooled him to the top of his bent. But he none the less
chafed at his want of appreciation in the school, and bitterly hated
Crawley, who in a great measure filled the place which he coveted.

Since the cricket match in which he had figured so ignominiously, Saurin
had become a confirmed loafer, and frequented the old reprobate's yard
almost daily. And, indeed, a new attraction had been added to the
establishment. Wobbler, the pedestrian, a candidate for the ten-miles
championship of Somersetshire, was residing there during his training
for that world-renowned contest. It cannot be correctly said that
Wobbler was very good company, for indeed his conversational powers were
limited, which was perhaps fortunate, seeing that his language was not
very choice when he did speak. But he was a man of varied
accomplishments; not only could he walk, but he could run, and swim, and
box. Indeed he had only deserted the pugilistic for the pedestrian
profession because the former was such a poor means of livelihood,
closely watched as its members were by the police. Now, Saurin had long
wished to learn to box, an art which was not included in the curriculum
of the Weston gymnasium, and here was an opportunity. The professor's
terms were half-a-crown a lesson, provided there was a class of at least
four. The ordinary allowance of pocket-money at Weston was
eighteenpence a week, _plus_ tips, _plus_ what was brought back to
school after the holidays. In the words of Mr Slam, "it wouldn't run
to it." There were seven occasional frequenters of the forbidden yard
who were anxious to acquire the rudiments of the noble art of self-
defence, but half-a-crown a lesson was a prohibitive tariff. Indeed it
seemed con