"

"It was Rosher or one of those chaps wrote it," said Jack. "You'd
better look out; any one of them could give you a licking."

"They'd have to try first," answered Valentine, hotly.

His cousin laughed; the reply rather tickled his fancy.

Those concerned had not long to wait before matters came to a head.
That same afternoon Mr. Rowlands set a history lesson for the following
day. "Take the reign of Elizabeth," he said. "By-the-bye, there's a
genealogical tree at the end of the chapter; get that up if you can."

The examination next morning was a written one, and the last question
on the board was, "Show, by means of a genealogical tree, the
connection between the Tudors and the Stuarts."

"Please, sir," said Garston, "you told us we needn't do that."

"I said you were to get it up if you had time," returned the master.
"Haven't any of you done it?"

"Yes, sir," came from the front desk.

"Very well; let those who have learned it write it down."

"Val, my boy," said Jack, in his happy-go-lucky style, as they met in
the dormitory to change for football, "you just keep your eyes open;
you're going to get licked."

Valentine replied with a snort of defiance, and the subject was
dropped. Tea was over, and in the short respite between the end of the
meal and the commencement of "prep.," Jack was strolling down one of
the passages, when his attention was attracted by a certain small boy
who stood beneath a gas-jet scanning the contents of a small book, and
occasionally scribbling something on a half-sheet of exercise-book
paper. Suddenly the youngster flung down the book in a rage, and
kicked it across the passage, whereupon Jack promptly cried, "No goal!"

"Hallo, little Garston!" he continued, "what's up with you?"

"Why, I've got to write out the translation of some of this Caesar for
old Thorpe, and I can't make head or tail of the blessed stuff. I say,
Fenleigh, you might do a bit for me!"

Jack was a good-natured young vagabond. "Where is it?" he said,
picking up the book. "All right! here goes."

Garston Minor slapped his piece of paper up against the wall, and wrote
at his friend's dictation. The translation was not very accurate, but
coming from the lips of a fellow in the Upper Fourth it was accepted
without question by the juvenile, and in ten minutes the rough copy of
the imposition was finished.

"Thanks awfully!" said the youngster, as he stuffed the book and paper
back into his p