ner, holding it up, "Harkaway! By Jove, Flashey, your
young friend's in luck."

"Give me the ticket," says Flashman with an oath, leaning across the
table with open hand, and his face black with rage.

"Wouldn't you like it?" replies the opener, not a bad fellow at the
bottom, and no admirer of Flashman's. "Here, Brown, catch hold," and he
hands the ticket to Tom, who pockets it; whereupon Flashman makes for
the door at once, that Tom and the ticket may not escape, and there
keeps watch until the drawing is over and all the boys are gone, except
the sporting set of five or six, who stay to compare books, make bets
and so on, Tom, who doesn't choose to move while Flashman is at the
door, and East, who stays by his friend, anticipating trouble.

The sporting set now gathered round Tom. Public opinion wouldn't allow
them actually to rob him of his ticket, but any humbug or intimidation
by which he could be driven to sell the whole or part at an under value
was lawful.

"Now, young Brown, come, what'll you sell me Harkaway for? I hear he
isn't going to start. I'll give you five shillings for him," begins the
boy who had opened the ticket. Tom, remembering his good deed, and
moreover in his forlorn state wishing to make a friend, is about to
accept the offer, when another cries out, "I'll give you seven
shillings." Tom hesitated, and looked from one to the other.

"No, no!" said Flashman, pushing in, "leave me to deal with him; we'll
draw lots for it afterwards. Now, sir, you know me--you'll sell Harkaway
to us for five shillings, or you'll repent it."

"I won't sell a bit of him," answered Tom, shortly.

"You hear that now!" said Flashman, turning to the others. "He's the
coxiest young blackguard in the house--I always told you so. We're to
have all the trouble and risk of getting up the lotteries for the
benefit of such fellows as he."

Flashman forgets to explain what risk they ran, but he speaks to willing
ears. Gambling makes boys selfish and cruel as well as men.

"That's true,--we always draw blanks," cried one. "Now, sir, you shall
sell half, at any rate."

"I won't," said Tom, flushing up to his hair, and lumping them all in
his mind with his sworn enemy.

"Very well then, let's roast him," cried Flashman, and catches hold of
Tom by the collar: one or two boys hesitate, but the rest join in. East
seizes Tom's arm and tries to pull him away, but is knocked back by one
of the boys, and Tom is dragged alon