tle
playful joke. I think the beastly way in which they took that bread game
spoke for itself. I should like to have hammered them for that."
"West will be changing all our hours and classes soon to suit the
convenience of the day-boarders. That'll be the next move. I know it,
because I heard him ask that gawky chap they call Mason if he could stay
on Wednesday evenings for the dancing class. If he could, indeed! That's
the way they're going to be treated."
"If they are, it'll be war to the knife between us and them," observed
Hallett, folding his arms with an air of conscious might.
"War wiz knife, Hallett? Ah!"
It was a black-browed foreign child of nine who whispered these words,
creeping close to Hallett, and gazing up curiously into his face.
Hallett burst out laughing.
"Listen to this bloodthirsty brigand of a March Hare! The instinct of
his ancestors is strong within him. No, Harey," he continued, "I won't
stickle for knives, or even pistols. Shall we call it war to the fist?
Anything will do, so long as it's war."
"What do you all think of the weekly? Is he as bad as the rest?" asked
Grey, one of the juniors. He was always careful to find out what he
ought to think before he thought it.
[Illustration]
"Which is the weakly one?" asked Cadbury. "That lily-flower bending on
its stalk to address the cheeky, black-eyed imp? He looks weakly enough,
all eyes and hair."
"No, no; that's Hughes, from the Bank. I mean the new weekly boarder,
who's to go home from Saturday to Monday."
"I know the one," said Hallett. "The apple-faced boy who does so much
laughing. I heard someone call him Brady."
"Oh, that fellow! He doesn't look so bad," pronounced Trevelyan, who
ranked only second to Hallett.
"He seems to have a strong sense of humour," remarked Vickers gravely,
at which his comrades giggled. Vickers was commonly believed to have
none. He never laughed when anyone else did.
"A weekly boarder is a very different thing from a day-boy," Hallett
went on. "If Brady was wise he wouldn't go mixing himself up with that
lot. I shall give him a wrinkle when he comes my way. He really looks
rather decent, and he was the only one who grinned about the bread. Of
course it may have been from sheer force of habit, and therefore no
credit to him; but still, he did grin."
At this moment the discussion in both camps was brought to a sudden
finish by the return of the masters. The chief himself, Mr. West, was
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