nificence, for it was the last at which several of the elder boys,
among them Jack, could hope to be present. Fireworks committees were
formed and treasurers appointed, and nothing else was spoken of but the
sums collected and promised, and the apportionment thereof in Catherine
wheels, Chinese dragons, and so on. Jack was one of the treasurers. He
had been very successful so far, but the sum total on which he and his
companions had set their hearts was still unattained. The elder boys held
a committee meeting one day to consider ways and means, and the names of
all the subscribers were read out.

"'We _should_ manage two pounds more; we'd do then,' said one boy.

"'Are you sure everybody's been asked?' said another, running his eye
down the lists. 'Bless me, Sawyer's not in,' he added, looking up
inquiringly.

"'No one would ask him,' said the first boy, shrugging his shoulders.

"A sudden thought struck Jack.

"'I'll tell you what, _I'll_ do it,' he said, 'and, between ourselves, I
shouldn't much wonder if he comes down handsomely. He's been very civil
of late--I rather think he'd be glad of an opportunity to do something
obliging to make up for that mean trick of his about Carlo, and what's
more,' he added mysteriously, 'I happen to know he's by no means short of
funds just now.'

"They teased him to say more, but not another word on the subject could
be got out of Jack. What he knew was this--that very morning when the
letters came, he had happened to be standing beside Mr. Sawyer, who, with
an eager face, opened one that was handed to him. He was nervous as
usual, more nervous than usual probably, and perhaps his hands were
shaking, for as he drew his letter hastily out of the envelope, something
fluttered to the ground at Jack's feet.

"It was a cheque for twenty pounds, and conspicuous on the lowest line
was the signature of a well-known publishing firm. Instinctively Jack
stooped to pick it up and handed it to its owner--it had been impossible
for him not to see what he did, but he had thought no more about it,
beyond a passing wonder in his own mind, as to 'what on earth Sawyer got
to write about,' and had forgotten all about it till the meeting of the
fireworks committee recalled it to his memory.

"But it was with a feeling of pleasant expectancy, not unmixed with some
consciousness of his own magnanimity in 'giving old Sawyer a chance
again,' that Jack made his way to the junior master's quarters, th