ay junior! Tom! answer me! Is he here?" asked Norman, not
solicitous to identify any one.

But gruff voices broke in upon them. "There they are, nothing like 'em
for mischief."

"Come, young gentlemen," said a policeman, "be off, if you please. We
don't want to have none of you at the station to-night."

A general hurry-skurry ensued. Norman alone, strong in innocence, walked
quietly away, and, as he came forth from the darkness of the alley,
beheld something scouring away before him, in the direction of home. It
popped in at the front door before him, but was not in the drawing-room.
He strode upstairs, called, but was not answered, and found, under the
bedclothes, a quivering mass, consisting of Tom, with all his clothes
on, fully persuaded that it was the policeman who was pursuing him.

CHAPTER XXII.

Oh Life, without thy chequered scene,
Of right and wrong, of weal and woe,
Success and failure, could a ground
For magnanimity be found?
WORDSWORTH.

Dr. May was called for late the next day, Friday, and spent some time
in one of the houses near the river. It was nearly eight o'clock when
he came away, and he lingered, looking towards the school, in hopes of a
walk home with his boys.

Presently he saw Norman coming out from under the archway, his cap drawn
over his face, and step, gesture, and manner betraying that something
was seriously wrong. He came up almost to his father without seeing
him, until startled by his exclamation, "Norman--why, Norman, what's the
matter?"

Norman's lips quivered, and his face was pale--he seemed as if he could
not speak.

"Where's Tom?" said the doctor, much alarmed. "Has he got into disgrace
about this business of Tomkins? That boy--"

"He has only got an imposition," interrupted Norman. "No, it is not
that--it is myself"--and it was only with a gulp and struggle that he
brought out the words, "I am turned down in the school."

The doctor started back a step or two, aghast. "What-how--speak, Norman.
What have you done?"

"Nothing!" said Norman, recovering in the desire to reassure his
father--"nothing!"

"That's right," said the doctor, breathing freely. "What's the meaning
of it...a misunderstanding?"

"Yes," said Norman, with bitterness. "It is all Anderson's doing--a word
from him would have set all straight--but he would not; I believe, from
my heart, he held his tongue to get me down, that he