n affair to
be approached with levity; "it's no joking matter. The kid's in a
beastly mess, and, when he owns up, we must try to get him off as
lightly as possible. I think perhaps we've let this youth and his
chum, the Gray Doe, get too cheeky, and to that extent we're to
blame.... Now, Ray, answer me some questions. Did you get a thousand
lines from our revered housemaster, Carpet--Mr. Fillet?"

"Yes."

"When did you complete them?"

"Yesterday afternoon."

"In short, on the afternoon immediately preceding the tragedy which
took place in the microscopic hours of this morning?"

"Yes, I s'pose so."

"That's a remarkable coincidence, isn't it?"

"I'm bothered if I see why."

"My dear child, you really mustn't be 'bothered' in here. It's gross
disrespect to my brother-prefects--my colleagues. Besides, you knew
perfectly well that in the stilly night a malicious attempt was made
upon--not upon the life--but upon the cane of Mr. Fillet, which is,
after all, the life and soul of the little man."

There was laughter in court, in which his worship joined.

"O law!" ejaculated I, as things began to fall into shape.

"Really, child, such expressions as 'O law!' are out of order,
especially when they're only so much bluff.... I must now approach a
subject which may have sordid recollections for you, but in the
interest of the law I am bound to allude to it. Were you
whacked--ahem!--chastised a few days ago by the aforesaid Mr.
Fillet?"

"Yes."

"When did the old gaffer--when did Mr. Fillet whack you?"

"Yes, tell the gentleman that," put in Kepple-Goddard, a prefect who
felt that he was not playing a sufficiently imposing part and wished
to have his voice heard.

"A week ago last Monday," I answered.

"Where did he whack you?" pursued Stanley.

"On the recognised spot."

"Now, don't be cheeky. In what place did he whack you?"

"Why, in his class-room, of course," I retorted. "Where do you think
he'd do it? In the High Street?" As I said this I was seized with a
nervous fit of giggling.

"Look here, sonny," said Kepple-Goddard, rapping on the table,
"you're going the right way towards getting a prefects' whacking for
contempt of court."

Stanley raised his hand for silence.

"Why did he whack you?"

"Because he couldn't get my sum right."

Here Banana-Skin, a large and overbearing prefect, so called because
of his yellowish complexion, burst in with the skill of a
prosecuting counsel:

"Oh, th