a
week since the Sheen episode.

"All right," said Painter.

"Suppose we go by the High Street," suggested Jackson, casually.

"Then we'd better get a few more chaps," said Painter.

A few more chaps were collected, and the party, numbering eight, set
off for the town. There were present such stalwarts as Borwick and
Crowle, both of Dexter's, and Tomlin, of the School House, a useful man
to have by you in an emergency. It was Tomlin who, on one occasion,
attacked by two terrific champions of St Jude's in a narrow passage,
had vanquished them both, and sent their mortar-boards miles into the
empyrean, so that they were never the same mortar-boards again, but
wore ever after a bruised and draggled look.

The expedition passed down the High Street without adventure, until, by
common consent, it stopped at the lofty wall which bounded the
playground of St Jude's.

From the other side of the wall came sounds of revelry, shrill
squealings and shoutings. The Judies were disporting themselves at one
of their weird games. It was known that they played touch-last, and
Scandal said that another of their favourite recreations was marbles.
The juniors at Wrykyn believed that it was to hide these excesses from
the gaze of the public that the playground wall had been made so high.
Eye-witnesses, who had peeped through the door in the said wall,
reported that what the Judies seemed to do mostly was to chase one
another about the playground, shrieking at the top of their voices.
But, they added, this was probably a mere ruse to divert suspicion.

They had almost certainly got the marbles in their pockets all the
time.

The expedition stopped, and looked itself in the face.

"How about buzzing something at them?" said Jackson earnestly.

"You can get oranges over the road," said Tomlin in his helpful way.

Jackson vanished into the shop indicated, and reappeared a few moments
later with a brown paper bag.

"It seems a beastly waste," suggested the economical Painter.

"That's all right," said Jackson, "they're all bad. The man thought I
was rotting him when I asked if he'd got any bad oranges, but I got
them at last. Give us a leg up, some one."

Willing hands urged him to the top of the wall. He drew out a green
orange, and threw it.

There was a sudden silence on the other side of the wall. Then a howl
of wrath went up to the heavens. Jackson rapidly emptied his bag.

"Got him!" he exclaimed, as the last orange sped